View of the family-run Holmen Lofoten hotel in Norway. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
View of the family-run Holmen Lofoten hotel in Norway. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
In Norway’s rugged Lofoten Islands, the family-run Holmen Lofoten hotel is reimagining Arctic food traditions, writes Rosamund Brennan
On a hazy autumn morning in Sorvagen, a tiny fishing village in Norway’s Lofoten Archipelago, I can’t tear my eyes away from the skyline. Silvery swirls of cloud hug the mountain tops, like lace draping the shoulders of giants. It’s wild, visceral and breathtakingly beautiful. There’s certainly no shortage of cinematic views in Lofoten. This enchanted archipelago in the Arctic Circle is an endless stretch of shimmering fjords and colossal granite cliffs leaping out of icy waters. But still, it’s the sky for me. I’m utterly transfixed.
Perhaps it’s my fair drop of Viking ancestry, or the tales I’ve read about the elements here in Lofoten – a place where monstrous tidal whirlpools rip across the coastline, and sudden gale force winds have been known to send livestock, cars and even houses flying. Or perhaps it’s the magic of Holmen Lofoten, a fishing factory turned hotel and restaurant that is so deeply entwined with nature, you begin to feel you are part of it.
“We want our guests to slow down, log off and reload,” says Holmen Lofoten’s owner Ingunn Rasmussen, a fisherman’s daughter who grew up here, learning to fish, forage and live off the land and sea. “It’s about noticing the small things … just sitting by the sea, looking at the waves, or seeing flowers coming up in spring. Or feeling the crispness of the first snow on the mountains.”
Built into a rocky outcrop on the shores of Sorvagen, Holmen Lofoten is set in a huddle of converted fisherman’s cabins known as ‘rorbuer’, alongside modern, architecturally-designed suites which blend seamlessly into the landscape. The cabins were home to several generations of fishermen, including Ingunn’s father Inge, who spent decades trawling the seas for skrei (Arctic cod). A truly family-run property, Ingunn’s son Havar is the hotel manager and her brother Audun is the mountain guide.
I’m lucky enough to be staying in ‘Ingebua’, translating to ‘Inge’s shed’, the cabin where Ingunn’s father lived right up to the 1980s. As with all the cabins here, it’s been meticulously restored, blending contemporary Scandinavian design with its original wooden structure, and plenty of cosy touches like wood fireplaces and sheepskin rugs.
Inside the "Ingebua" cabin where I stayed at Holmen Lofoten. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
On my first evening at Holmen Lofoten, I walk a laborious 10 strides from my cabin to the restaurant, where Ingunn is waiting for me. Local, seasonal produce has been at the heart of Holmen Lofoten since it opened in 2007, with its kitchen crafting dishes from the bounty of the surrounding waters and mountains.
Tonight, we feast on a five-course set menu by chef Karel Krecbach, a sublime journey through the spoils of this rich landscape; from enormous, juicy scallops to strips of reindeer procured from a Sami herder in the north of Norway, and panna cotta made with locally foraged meadowsweet, lingonberries and blackcurrant leaf ice cream.
The kitchen at Holmen Lofoten. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
Most of the produce from the ever-changing menu is sourced from small-scale farms and producers in Lofoten, and some is foraged by chef Krecbach himself, like the reindeer moss which he collected just this morning from a nearby hillside. “It’s a dream to be able to cook with local produce from the mountains and fjords,” he tells me.
These hyper-local ingredients also feature in their “Kitchen on the Edge of the World” series. Taking place five times a year, these culinary retreats bring renowned chefs to Holmen for a program of fishing, foraging, craft and food. The 2025 series features the likes of Slovenian chef Ana Ros, behind the three Michelin-starred Hisa Franko, and celebrated British chef Simon Rogan.
Reindeer procured from an Indigenous Sami herder in the north of Norway. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
As we make our way through dinner, Ingunn regales me with stories of her childhood. She’s affectionately known around Holmen as ‘Ildsjel’, someone with a burning, passionate enthusiasm, and it’s not difficult to see why.
“This place is filled with so many memories for me. Sometimes, it’s like I can still hear their laughter,” she says, referring to her 12 siblings, and her mother and father, who lived together in a small house just up the hill from the fishing factory. Like many of the local children, she had her first working season when she was just five years old; baiting fishing lines and cutting cod tongues in the freezing cold till her hands were red raw. “I felt very proud to be trusted to do that work,” she says.
Remnants of the fishing village at Sorvagen, surrounding Holmen Lofoten. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
In the midst of a high-flying sales and management career in the oil sector, Ingunn felt the call of home, and in 2001 she purchased the little group of fisherman’s cabins at the edge of the world, now known as Holmen Lofoten.
While she initially wanted to create a family holiday home, it became clear this place was too good to keep to herself. “When I saw the architectural drawings … my mind just started to tick over. Like, what could this place be? I wanted to share it with other people.”
The next day, I embrace the philosophy of ‘friluftsliv’ (the Norwegian love of the outdoors) and hit the road with Sophie Zalokar, an Australian chef who works as Holmen’s marketing manager and event coordinator.
We go for a hike around the lake in Sorvagen, which winds through soaring moss-covered peaks, some with waterfalls exploding from their sides (such revelry is par the course on Lofoten’s many hiking routes). Then we set off on a drive across the archipelago, careering through the impressive network of roads and bridges that connect its seven main islands.
Hiking around the lake at Sorvagen. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
“When I first drove through these mountains my jaw was on the floor,” Sophie explains. “The scale and intensity of them was overwhelming. I was expecting Tom Cruise to come powering through in a jet any moment.”
In Bostad, we get a glimpse into sustainable, organic farming practices at Aalan Gard, a quaint, family-run goat farm that supplies cheese and tea to Holmen (as with all local suppliers, they are proudly listed on the back of their menus). Next, we visit Lofoten Wool, where textile craftswoman Ragnhild Lie produces a range of products including classic patterned Norwegian sweaters, much like those once worn by hardy fishermen like Inge.
As with many people who end up in this far-flung archipelago, Ragnhild only came for a season and fell in love with the place. “I feel very free here,” she says. “There’s lots of open space and fresh air. And it’s full of strange, nice, funny, good people.”
On the day I’m preparing to leave, the weather gods turn on us and my ferry is brought forward due to a big storm. As we drive to the terminal, those low hanging clouds take on an angrier shade of grey, and I’m beginning to understand why people here believe in Gods, trolls and mythical creatures.
Aboard the ferry, I watch the Lofoten Archipelago drift into the distance – a haze of misty, jagged peaks and wild beauty, where fishermen, farmers and “strange, nice, funny, good people” come together beneath the arctic elements.
Stunning view of village from Holmen Lofofen. Photo / Rosamund Brennan
As we careen through the brewing storm, something Ingunn said earlier comes back to me: “I think in creating Holmen Lofoten, I wanted to honour the good things of my childhood and to cherish them. And to create this beautiful, safe space in nature.”
“I hope that when people come here, it feels like coming home.”
