The Norwegian city of Tromsø is a dramatic gateway to a great Arctic adventure, writes TOM KELLY, as he goes in search of the elusive Northern Lights
N URGENT FRISSON spreads across the ship’s warm, comfortable dining room from all corners, rippling from table to table, a whispered contagion triggering an instant reaction. Chairs are pushed back, down jackets quickly pulled on and camera bags grabbed as everyone bolts for the open decks. It might be bitingly cold out there, but you’ve got to be ready if you’re hunting “Nordlys”, the elusive Aurora Borealis we know better as the Northern Lights.
We landed in Tromsø, about 350km inside the Arctic Circle, a couple of days earlier to rendezvous with MS Nordkapp, part of Norwegian cruise specialists Hurtigruten’s fleet. The capital of Arctic Norway, Tromsø has been the gateway to expeditions of some of our greatest polar explorers such as Roald Amundsen, the first man to reach each pole and Nobel Prize winning, Fridtjof Nansen. It’s a bustling, lively town, with seawater in its veins. It was once known as the Paris of the North, and it thrives in climatic adversity, with a university and the so-called Arctic Cathedral looking like stacked-up slabs of ice. And if you’re into that kind of thing, the world’s northernmost brewery.
The centre of the town is on an island connected by a soaring bridge (and tunnel) and the traditional wooden buildings give the streets a real charm. Walking them is another thing altogether. The locals stride about, sure-footed on icy, snow-compacted footpaths in all manner of footwear, while we shuffle from lamppost to corner, barely daring to commit to an actual step until the under-pavement heating on the main street, Storgata, kicks in.
Tromsø remains a centre for all manner of Arctic adventures, including dog-sleigh rides. Or for a twist, night-time dog-sleigh rides. Once you’re inside the cosy padded all-in-one suits with heavy snow boots, the Norwegian chill gives way to a buzz of excitement.
The huskies are making a racket. Imagine how excited your own “man’s best friend” is at the prospect of walkies and then multiply it by 200. The thick-coated dogs are ready to go but these friendly working dogs enjoy a tickle and a rub like a family pet. Paired off in rows of double kennels with their partner they’re harnessed with, huskies are so hardy they sleep outside on the ground or on the kennel roof. A yip-yip from the driver and the team springs away into the night, slicing across the snow at a tremendous lick. They react to every shouted instruction, and dive-roll into the snow at each stop. Dogs from this kennel compete in a famous long-distance race that sees a team do 1,000km in six days or less.
Hurtigruten’s ships have been serving Norway’s Atlantic coastline since 1893 when Captain Richard With defied common sense by agreeing to provide a weekly service right through the six-month polar night. In an incredible act of navigation he pulled it off and the company carries on that tradition, sailing from Bergen in the south right up to Kirkenes in the north, with 34 ports of call along the way.
Of course, nowadays, the ships boast state-of-the-art navigation, integrating pinpoint satellite and radar data, not to mention a crew who know the awe-inspiring, craggy complexity of the fjords like the back of their hands.
Described by Lonely Planet as the world’s most beautiful sea voyage, it’s hard to argue. Hurtigruten’s cruise ships don’t just bring tourists, they provide a vital local artery provisioning and connecting small isolated fishing towns all along the way. We pull into Honningsvåg, with its sprinkling of brightly-coloured wooden houses perched on the edge of a fjord and soaring rock faces behind. Soon pallets of vital goods are forklifted on and off. That this is an essential lifeline somehow underpins the whole journey’s authenticity.
Reading between the lines, it seems the town of Hammerfest is none too pleased with Honningsvåg. The latter apparently has succeeded in usurping the former’s title of the most northerly city in Europe. Neither are cities of course, a linguistic loophole in Norwegian allows the claim. Still both have breathtaking scenery about them, with Honningsvåg (pop. some 2,400) having the additional calling card of being the port from which to reach the North Cape (or NordKapp). This is the northernmost point of Europe. Almost. The actual point is a less impressive headland within walking distance. Nordkapp has the geological drama to fit the geography. A sheer 307-metre high cliffed headland with a sculpture of a globe marks the spot. This is 71º N and the North Pole is out there in the great beyond. It’s bleak and cold, but magnificent, with a visitor’s centre selling welcome hot chocolate.
Back on board, there’s the tiniest sense of anxiety. Some fellow travellers have only one more night to see the Northern Lights and cloud cover has been obscuring the show. The Aurora Borealis (north wind meets the goddess of dawn) starts above 80 km, when the solar winds excite the atmosphere, triggering releases of photons. Any cloud at all draws a veil under them. They’re actually still happening during the daytime too, but the sun’s rays do the censoring then. And the forecast for the next evening is more cloud.
A night-time cross-country snowmobile ride from Kjollefjord to Mehamn offers to take our minds off the lights lottery. Suited-up securely, we race in convoy across an Arctic desert of snow dunes. Even inside heavy mittens, heated handlebars prove a boon. We’ve become like moving-statue watchers, staring at wisps of clouds until they seem to glow and vibrate. The night is clearer than expected and the guide is hopeful.
Suddenly a crack opens up across the sky and it’s filled with a milky white light. We pull up sharply and gawp into the sky above, cooing like babies; some people lie back on the snow to take it all in. You start to realise the light is perpendicular to the ground, filaments of glowing photons lined up by polar magnetism. They change shape and density in an instant, layered in creamy strata one moment, a folding curtain stretching off to the horizon the next.
Amateurs struggle to photograph them. They look white with tinges of green and purple. We want to stay longer, but must make a connection with our ship at the other side of the peninsula and it can’t wait.
Back on board, the celestial 360-degree show continues until about 1am, drawing us out on deck, wrapped-up and buffered, impervious to cold, when a collective gasp directs us to another lustrous formation. When it comes to hunting the light, dinner can wait, there’s always breakfast.
Northern Lights: getting there
Hurtigruten offers a range of Northern Lights trips from October to March. These combine a voyage along the coast of Norway with a range of winter activities.
A seven-day Classic Voyage North departs daily and costs from €1,146pp from Nov 1st to Dec 31st. Full board. Flights extra.