This trip was a combination of two things: my companion’s desire to to see the Northern Lights, and my disastrous journey to Japan. The voucher we got as compensation for my cancelled flight paid for a chunk of the travel, so we headed inside the arctic circle during what was meant to be the peak of an 11 year cycle of solar activity.
The sheer power of the cold climate was the first thing to grab me. I’ve never experienced sub zero temperatures like this, it certainly put winter in Yorkshire in perspective. Not only that - everything was functioning! Airports, roads, general services - again we are shamed in a nation where a light dusting sends all our infrastructure to hell.
We arrived quite late on a Thursday evening and got instantly lost. However, Tromsø is a small city on a small island, so most things aren’t that far away, even if you are going in the wrong direction. Our hotel was pleasant, warm and had a fantastic breakfast buffet where I continued my habit of Eating All The Nutella.
Luckily most imported TV was subtitled rather than dubbed, so we didn’t struggle to find something comprehensible to watch. Simon Cowell Talent Show Variant was present and correct with Norge Idol. It was interesting to see most of the local adverts depicted a country with lush green valleys during summertime. Aspirational I guess? As the only greenery we saw all weekend was covered in a few feet of snow. There was also an advert for butter which included swearing Vikings playing ice hockey that made us chuckle.
The first day was spent wandering around the city and getting our bearings. Once again the trusty 7-11 was there to provide us with sustenance, but at a much more inflated price than Japan. We took a bus out to the winter gardens at the uni to find it was a very apt name - the gardens were lost under a mass of snowfall. Even the benches were barely visible. We also took a walk over the bridge to the northernmost cathedral in the world. Tromsø also has the northernmost Burger King in the world. The More You Know.
Saturday was the best day. We left early in a minibus to be driven even further north into the wild. We were with a group of people who were going to go on some kind of sled ride, but it was just us two taking part in our activity - snowshoe rambling. We were kitted up in giant bodysuits and left to put on our snowshoes which were unruly devices for sure.
But then it was just us and the wilderness. We tracked our way around the edges of the farm or whatever it was we were on, seeing lakes, mountains and reindeer both wild and captive. I love walking through freshly fallen snow, the crunch sound is one of my favourites. There was a lot of crunch. After an hour or so of this we were due back at the farm for complimentary tea in a wigwam. Then it was back to Tromsø to prepare for the evenings hunt to see the northern lights.
Every night there are dozens of tours that promise you spectacular sky displays. Our company alone sent out around 10 packed coaches full of people. We went for one of the low key tours that promised hot chocolate AND a cookie. Sold.
We departed around 10pm and the first stop was around 90 minutes away in some kind of layby. On the journey there someone pointed excitedly to the sky and said they could see the lights, and I was disappointed just to see a small cloud formation. Where was the green glow? Where were the dancing skies? We piled off the bus and the first thing that hit me was the stars. Millions of them! I’ve never seen such a spectacular sight. I was happy just seeing this - free from light pollution and slightly delirious from the low temperature despite wearing a dozen layers. There were northern lights too, and I had to admit to continued disappointment. You are sold this photoshopped lie that you’ll see an atmosphere of luminescence right from the start.
The truth is, it takes a long time to reach anything like that, and it’s much more likely to appear that way through a camera than through your eyes. Walking around gazing upwards at the majesty of it all, it was annoying to be chastised by various camera nerds who claimed we were ruining their shots. They spent the whole night looking at this splendour through a camera display - their loss. There were specialist camera trips they could have gone on, and I wish they did.
So there we were, lying back on a snowy bank, counting shooting stars that chased across the sky. The organiser came over to us and said “you do realise the main show is over there, right?” beckoning to the lights. He took an “official” photo of us with the northern lights over our shoulders, although it did involve keeping your eyes open for ages while a blinding camera light shone right at you. I blinked, so I appear to be half asleep. As it was gone midnight by then, I probably was.
We bundled onto the bus and set off for the Finnish border. We arrived in another layby to find the temperature clock telling us it was -17. Christ! The trees and bushes were skeletons of ice. It was a proper North Of The Wall moment. And the northern lights were getting their sky groove on. Still not as glowing as you’d hope, but visibly green and moving. It was hypnotic. The inside of my nose was turning to icicles and I didn’t care. It was beautiful.
One quick reversal across the border with Finland and we were on our way. I think it was gone 2am by the time we arrived back to our hotel. Exhausted but enchanted by it all.
Sunday was a slower start, and mainly involved exploring the remainder of the island. There was a massive frozen lake that we spent a lot of time walking on and around. Couldn’t get over the sensation that it could crack at any second. On the way back into town we passed a graveyard, and next to one or two tombstones stood a candle. I can only assume that these were real candles and not fakes, but the idea of going out to light a candle for someone every night got me a bit teary. But when it’s several degrees below freezing your tits off, no one really notices.
For our final meal we ate reindeer, which wasn’t nearly as guilt inducing as I thought it would be, given that we saw some cuddly examples out in the wild. Bloody tasty it was too.
The flight home was actually three flights, a lot of waiting in Trondheim and then a mad dash through my old nemesis Copenhagen airport. We will meet again, delayer of flights.
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