Pictures: Lyle Such
Camera: Canon 5d Mkiii
Writing: Thu Buu
Tromsø Norway
From Bergen, we left the South and began our adventures in the North, above the Arctic Circle. It was time to immerse ourselves in a true winter wonderland. It was time to test our gear against the biting Scandinavian wind. I was a little nervous.
Because this was our first winter trip ever, our preparations started more than half a year in advance. From boots to pants and jackets to beanies, we were starting from nearly scratch. We both had our challenges. Lyle being lean and tall and myself short and small, winter clothing just did not fit us well. It took many returns, and even then, we had to settle for the next best things. Knowing that beanies just don’t fit me correctly, I knitted my own beanies. One was too small and fit Sydney perfectly; the other was a little too puffy and made my head look like a purple mushroom. Up until the day before our flight, we were still shopping. Luckily, we found the perfect, fleece-lined wool beanie for me in the toddler’s section at REI. That made Lyle very happy; he was not fond of my mushroom beanie at all.
After a long delay in Oslo waiting for our connecting flight, we arrived in Tromsø in the middle of a snowstorm. With our heavy packs on both shoulders, we stepped out of the little airport to look for our rental car. But with each car covered under a mountain of snow, it proved to be a harder task than normal. By the time we found our car, we were covered in the fluffiest, whitest, lightest, largest snowflakes I have ever seen! I was so happy. Finally! Real falling snow. Lots of snow.
Tromsø is said to be one of the best places to view the Northern Lights. Originally, we had planned on catching a northern lights hunting tour once we arrived, but due to the flight delay, that was no longer an option. Despite the fact that snow was falling relentlessly from thick masses of gray clouds, despite having repeatedly checked the weather forecast and not seeing a break anytime soon, we still ventured out on our first hunt for the northern lights. The search was an obvious failure, but we did find a cute little inlet that seemed like a fun place to visit during the daytime. We also discovered the enormous tunnels connecting the many neighborhoods of Tromsø. These tunnels run for miles and are equipped with multiple lanes, traffic lights, intersections and roundabouts. Satisfied with our efforts for the night, we rewarded ourselves with cups of hot chocolate (that we had brought along in our thermos) on the drive back to our hotel.
On the elevator ride, we made small talk with a couple of girls who had just returned from the northern lights tour. They had gone east, crossing the border into Finland where there was a small break in the clouds and they were able to see the lights. Darn, we headed west instead of east.
Next, we headed east looking for a nice forest to wander around in. We came across a vast snowy meadow with a large grove of trees. It looked like the perfect place to spend some time. Crossing the meadow and getting to the trees was a source of fun in itself. With my first step, I had sunken down to my thighs. The snow here was so light and fluffy, nothing like the snow in the mountains of California.
Luckily I didn’t listen to Lyle and had put on my waterproof pants. But I should have gone with my gut instinct and worn the gaiters. Walking in snow that high was another challenge. I kept tripping and falling and laughing and falling even more, but I eventually made it to the trees.
Once inside the grove of trees, it truly felt like we had been transported to a whole new magical world where time stood still. So pristine. So white. Untouched and pure. We were in awe. We frolicked in this winter wonderland, jumping off branches and pulling on them to create our own snow avalanches. Our first taste of a Norwegian forest will forever be imprinted with love and laughter in our hearts. This turned out to be one of our favorite moments on this trip.
One of our main concerns going into this trip was the winter driving we would encounter. Growing up in Wisconsin, Lyle was the more experienced driver out of the two of us, so he took the wheel. After a short period of overly cautious driving, he begain to get a feel for the little VW rental and was soon driving like the locals. With a great set of snow tires and an adequate navigator, we were able to conquer all of the iced-over, treacherous roads that Norway could throw at us.
The beautiful Artic Cathedral is the most striking structure in Tromsø. Its triangular shape mimics that of a Sami tent, and the white sides represent the glacial iciness of this region.
The next morning, we had time to just explore the area. Without a predetermined plan, we were free to do whatever we wanted. We drove back to the little inlet. The weather was turning bad, but that wasn’t going to stop our exploring. Lyle cursed the water by throwing giant chunks of snow into the water. I think that angered the snow goddess, because by the time we finished the Nini-Snowman, we were being pelted by sleet. It was coming down so forcefully that it felt like bullets shooting sideways at us. Back inside the safety of our car, we noticed that they were bullets, big, round balls of hail.
We said goodbye to Tromso on board the Ms Finnmarken, a working cruise ship that sails the renowned Hurtigruten Route. Because it is a working ship, it makes many short stops along the way, delivering mail and other essential items to small coastal towns spread along the entire Norwegian coastline. People hop on or off at any of these ports. Many tourists would begin their cruise in Bergen heading north all the way to Kirkenes. That was too much time on a cruise ship-on a cruise ship for us. Our itinerary had us on board for two nights, getting off in Kirkenes, after rounding the North Cape.
Our only sightings of the Northern Lights were from the cruise deck. Around 10 PM on the first night, the captain made an announcement that the lights were on display. We made our way towards the deck and there it was, dancing so effortlessly in the night sky. The green curtains swayed and bent, curved and arched, their patterns unpredictable. Their paths were never the same. At times, one end of the streak would light up brightly and like a wave, transmit itself along the length of the whole streak. Other times, a burst of green light shot across the sky. Then slowly the light would trickle downward conjuring the image of a bride’s veil. Mesmerizing! The brightest part of the show lasted for about 15 min., and then it disappeared, back into empty space.
In Iceland, we witnessed the never setting sunset. In the Artic Circle, we witnessed the prolonged sunrise. As we walked to breakfast our last day on board the Ms Finnmarken, I lamented the fact that we didn’t have our camera with us to capture such a clear and colorful sunrise. Thinking that within a few minutes, the sun would have risen above the horizon and the colors would have faded, we continued on towards the restaurant for breakfast. As we finished our breakfast and sat looking out the window, I was intrigued. After half an hour, the sun had not moved past the horizon, and the sky was still blushing with a colorful sunrise glow. We had enough time to go back to our room, retrieve the camera, and shoot some pictures.
Magerøya Island Norway
At one of the larger ports, we had arranged a day trip to the North Cape, but the winds were too harsh and dangerous for the bus to maneuver safely on the roads. Earlier that morning, a tour bus had flipped off the road on its way to the North Cape. Our trip was canceled. Standing aimlessly in the street, wondering what to do next, we were soon approached by a local taxi driver who was hoping to make some money giving personal tours of his town. We agreed.
It was a day well spent. Along with a dozen other tourists from the cruise, he drove us in a nice, clean van out of town. We headed up close to the North Cape and we were able to see the North Horn on our way. The landscape up that high was all but barren and desolate. It felt like we were in a desert, but instead of heat and sand, it was cold and snow that were blowing about.
Stockfish is a common snack in Norway. It’s unsalted fish that has been left on wooden racks to be dried naturally by the cold air. Cod is the most common type. Once dried, it becomes so hard that a hammer is used to smash the fish into smaller bits for snacking.
How can anyone live here, in this harsh environment? As if to answer my unvoiced question, we stopped in a couple of little fishing villages. People do brave the elements here and have carved out a simple way of life depending on the sea for their livelihoods. It’s definitely not a life for me.
We drove to The North Cape Tunnel, an underwater tunnel under the Magerøysundet Strait that connects Magerøya Island to mainland Norway. It is one of the longest subsea roads in Norway. He was very proud of this.
The second night on board, I commanded myself to get out of bed every few hours to watch for the lights. Having popped a Dramamine to avoid seasickness, the side effects were dragging on me. At three o’clock in the morning, my legs were anvils and each step up the stairs was a fight of will power. Once outside, the Arctic wind howled and pulled my hood off in one forceful gust as if to say, “This is my territory!” Pulling the hood back on and tying the strings to keep it in place, I slowly ushered myself along the side of the ship, one hand holding on to my hood, the other holding on to the railing screwed into the ship. In the distance, I spotted something moving. It wasn’t too bright, but there seemed to be a blur of diffused color in the sky. I decided that it might have the potential to turn into a bright light show. Carefully, I made my way back inside, down a couple flights of stairs and let myself into our dark cabin to wake Lyle up. By the time we returned, the blurry discolored blob had turned into a more noticeable light show, though still very far away, unlike the first night.
We decided to walk to the stern of the ship, and there we saw streaks of multicolored lights flying in long undulating lines as if they were playing chase with our ship. Over the course of an hour, streaks would disappear and reappear. They would flash brightly and slowly lose their luminous properties. They would spread apart, emitting soft nebulous clusters of lights. They were forever changing. Unfortunately, the brightness of these Northern Lights was compromised by the light from the ship. We’ve only experienced an inkling of this spectacular natural phenomenon. Just a whetting of the appetite. Until next time, Aurora Borealis! We shall meet again.
Kirkenes Norway
Our cruise ended in Kirkenes, a small town in Northern Norway near the borders of Russia and Finland. This would be the beginning of the next leg of our trip filled with winter fun and the search for the Northern Lights on land.
From the ship, we hopped onto a small van that took us straight to our next adventure, a snowmobile tour on the frozen fjords and king crab fishing.
It wasn’t really a snowmobile ride either. It was really more of a sleigh-ride, the sleigh being pulled by a snowmobile. We sat on rows of wooden benches covered in reindeer fur in what is best described as a wooden wagon. We slid through pine forests and across frozen lakes. On our way back, we did not gain enough momentum and got stuck on a little uphill track. We all had to get out, and the guys were able to push the sleigh up the slope. “Oh what fun, it is to ride in a one snowmobile open sleigh. Hey!”
We stopped at a simple wooden structure erected in the middle of a frozen river. This was where we were going to catch our king crabs. We really had no idea what was going to happen, but in our romantic minds, we would be able to help saw the ice and prepare the traps and test our patience as we wait for the crabs to crawl into our bait. But that would have been too much fun, perhaps too much work for everyone else who had signed up for this tour.
Instead, the guides removed a black foam piece covering the opening of a hole that had already been sawed into the ice. Then they pulled up a couple blocks of ice, about a foot thick. They sawed the sides of the square opening a little wider in order to haul up a green net filled with giant king crabs. The net was hung from the wooden structure. We have never seen such enormous live crabs in our lives. After deciding how many crabs we needed to feed our party, they replaced the rest back down the hole.
The guides prepared the crabs right on the spot. Whatever was not used for human consumption was thrown down the hole to feed other fish. Arctic king crab blood is icy blue. I did not know that. I said a silent prayer and thanked them for providing us our meal for the day.
We had to put on these gigantic snowsuits. It was obvious the guides didn’t really worry about size or fit. Lyle’s brother could’ve fit in the suit he handed me!
These fishing holes are communal. Anyone can come out and take what they need from the nets. These king crabs are invasive species introduced by the Russian government as a way to address hunger and joblessness. But because they have no natural predators in this habitat, their population has exploded exponentially, and now they’re threatening the balance of this arctic ecosystem. The Norwegian government has not found a way to deal with this problem except to encourage more crabbing.
At a cozy little farmhouse near the fjords, we enjoyed the best king crab feast we have ever had. Lyle didn’t even mind that he had to shell the flesh himself because it was so easy. Just one clean crack near the joints and pull. Out comes the whole leg, intact and juicy. So meaty and tasty were they, that after a few legs, we were full and satisfied.
We couldn’t go to the snow and not go dog sledding! Lyle was ecstatic about this activity. For me, I had been preparing myself for this moment for months. After reading and watching video clips about huskies and their work ethic, I was able to reassure myself that these dogs could care less about me. All they want to do is run.
At the Kirkenes Snow Hotel, there are close to 100 huskies trained and ready to run. They’re a loud bunch. When a team is leaving or about to return from a run, the dogs all start barking like there’s no tomorrow. They jump on top of their kennels or run out towards the track with all their might, their only restraint is their chains. Thank goodness they’re all tethered to the kennels. Imagine the chaos if otherwise!
We headed out at dusk pulled by a team of eight huskies. The sleigh was simple, wooden frames with wooden boxes covered in layers of blankets as cushion for seats. The musher stood in the back. I sat flat on the bottom of the sled in front of Lyle, whose legs wrapped around me like protective walls.
The ride was bumpy and jerky at first. As we turnedt the first bend in the track, the snow was spotted with color, and the air reeked of dog poop. One of our dogs was running on three legs and lifting his other leg to pee at the same time. Our musher explained that the dogs are so excited to be running, they just can’t help themselves. But after the initial excitement wore down, and the team got into rhythm, the ride was smoother. She also explained that this summer has been a warm one, causing the tracks to be icy, which makes the huskies’ job more difficult. This refrain, “This has been a warm winter” is one that we will here over and over again. Everyone in the world is concerned about global warming, and yet here in the great technologically-advanced, leader of the first-world nations, our United States congressmen can blindly refute the facts and deny the existence of climate change without blinking.
I had on four layers including a thick snowsuit and my trusted handy-dandy backpack. In my delusional mind, my backpack would be the last standing barrier between me and those deadly canine fangs.
Halfway through the trip, we stopped to wait for two other sleds that had fallen behind. The huskies rested. Some of them just stood around barking at nothing. Others sat quietly. And then there were a few who started rolling around in the snow, scratching and digging up ice in all directions. It was entertaining to see. They all had their own personalities.
The mushers made a campfire under the trees. With a mug of hot sweet berry juice to warm our bellies and a toasty fire at our feet, we were content to just sit, enjoy the beauty of the present moment and each other’s company.
When the other two girls arrived, they recounted their stories of misfortune as they traveled through Norway. As if they hadn’t had enough to deal with, a burning rubber smell began to fill the air. We looked towards the fire and noticed that one of their shoes had curved inward, the sole melting from the heat of the fire. Once again, we couldn’t help but appreciate our good luck as we travel the world. And so the disappointment of not seeing the lights again was soon dissipated.
We had chosen a sunset ride in the hopes that we might be lucky enough to spot the Northern Lights. Mother Nature had other plans for us. The skies stayed covered with a stubborn layer of gray clouds. Another unsuccessful search.
Snow Hotel-Kirkenes, Norway
There’s a small reindeer farm at the Snow Hotel. We were encouraged to feed the reindeer with little pellets. Rudolph is the albino reindeer with one antler missing. Sadly enough, he is also the little reindeer that gets bullied by the bigger ones. I tried to feed him when he was close to the fence, but he took so long to figure out how to get around a branch that by the time he got to me, the other reindeer had already eaten all the pellets. Poor dude, but I see why he’s an easy target.
Of all our scheduled activities, dogsledding was by far the most nerve wrecking for me. Not far behind dogsledding was sleeping in the actual Snow Hotel. The thought of having to get out of my sleeping bag in the middle of the night and walk down an icy corridor to get to the restroom was just dreadful. I hoped that we would be assigned an igloo near the restroom, but instead, we were placed in one on the opposite end.
The Snow Hotel is built from scratch every year. It takes three to four weeks to complete. Water is pumped from the nearby lake to make snow, the building material. To create the igloos, giant inflatable domes are blown up to form the initial structure. Then layers of snow are piled on top until the igloos themselves are formed and solidify. The walls between each igloo and the corridor are around five feet thick. The hotel itself is constantly decreasing in size by about one cm each day due to the natural process of compression that occurs with the snow and ice. Depending on weather, the Snow Hotel is usually open until mid April. Then it’s demolition time and all the melting ice and snow are pushed back into the lake from whence they came.
Artists are brought in from all over the world to decorate the hotel. The parlor was one of my favorite rooms. The chairs and tables were made of ice. An sailboat sculpture functioned as the bar. Sculptures of a beautiful, Norwegian maiden and Viking explorer were carved into the surface of the dome.
Before heading to bed after an unappetizing meal of moose tartar with salted ice chips, I checked the skies again for breaks in the clouds. The Northern Lights Watch reported high activities in our area. We just needed the clouds to move away. They were starting to thin. During the course of that night, three times, I wiggled out of my semi-warm sleeping bag, put on my stiff outer layers, and forced myself to walk down the frigid hallway and slipped quietly outside to inspect the skies. At 3AM, I took one last walk around the hotel and conceded to the elements. I was not to witness a light show that night.
At breakfast the next morning, a few people were passing around pictures of the lights they saw that previous night. It was of one very vibrant green arch that stretched across the sky and did not move for about 30 minutes between 3:30-4:00 AM. I had missed it by half an hour! Darn
The best way to keep warm in the sleeping bags was to sleep naked. Not my style. I just couldn’t muster up enough heat to stay warm even with three hand warmers placed in strategic locations. Lyle on the other hand, slept in shorts and a t-shirt. He was knocked out. That night was the best sleep he had the whole trip.
The motif in each igloo depends on what inspires each artist. Our igloo’s theme was Japan. Perfect for us. There were 25 igloos in this year’s hotel. Most igloos had two beds. A few igloos accommodated larger groups with up to four beds. The frame around each bed was an ice sculpture, but the bed itself was not made from ice. It’s a regular mattress so we were not sleeping on a slate of ice. Some beds had reindeer skins on them as an extra layer of insulation. Ours didn’t. We were issued puffy sleeping bags, bag liners, and thick wool socks.
Early the next morning, we heard a commotion outside. We went out to investigate, where we found that all the dogs were standing on top of their kennels, facing the same direction towards the woods and barking at the top of their lungs. There was definitely something going on. We looked closer, and there we saw it, a red arctic fox slowly lurking along the periphery of the woods, scanning the dog camp. After realizing that it’s cover had been blown, it trotted off into the woods, only to return another time when the dogs let down their guard.
“What does the Fox say?” Foxes here are sly and clever. They sneak around the dogs’ kennels and steal their food when the dogs are asleep, knowing the dogs are chained and unable to chase them down if they manage to grab a few scraps of meat.
We put on snowshoes and went for a short walk down to the lake. This was my first time using snowshoes. I must have been stuck in the 1800’s because when I think of snowshoes, I think of something like a tennis racket with straps on it. Real modern day snowshoes aren’t anything like that at all. They’re more like super short skis with straps. I wasn’t so good at snowshoeing. I kept stepping on my own shoes.
