Longyearbyen in Svalbard, Norway is the world’s northernmost permanent settlement. Photo / Getty Images
Looking for one of the world’s greatest travel experiences? Svalbard,1300km from the North Pole, is where Arctic cold meets heart-warming wonders, writes Kellie Floyd.
Welcome to a land where polar bears roam, the sun doesn’t set for three months of the year, and you’ll find a host of captivating contrasts and extraordinary experiences.
How is it possible to feel both freezing and warm at the same time? My toes are frozen, begging for an extra layer of woollen socks. My fingers, cocooned in polar-climate mittens, throb with the biting chill. The crisp air stings my bare face. Yet despite the cold, joy radiates through me as warmth. I’m ecstatic. How could I not be? I’m dogsledding with eight eager huskies through an icy valley outside Longyearbyen, the world’s northernmost permanent settlement. This is where the world is at its most extreme, and I’m experiencing it first-hand.
Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago, is halfway between the northern coast of Norway and the North Pole. Though its latitude of 78 degrees north is intriguing, the larger allure lies with its massive residents — polar bears. There are more polar bears here than humans; a staggering three thousand bears compared to just two thousand people. But there are no polar bear tours here; these magnificent creatures are protected. Anyone who ventures outside Longyearbyen needs to carry a firearm and flares to deter potential confrontations.
I didn’t come to Svalbard to see polar bears, but as I set foot on the tarmac of the world’s northernmost commercial airport and make my way through to baggage claim, I’m greeted by one. It’s stuffed of course, having met its end (of natural causes) years ago. Still, I can’t help but stand in awe of its sheer size.
Beyond the imposing figure of this Arctic giant are my fellow passengers. Who, just like kids the night before Christmas, can’t contain their excitement. They chat and laugh loudly as they unzip bags to pull out heavy-duty jackets, gearing up to brave the bone-chilling minus-14C outside. The atmosphere is electric.
We hop on the airport bus, which will deliver us to the settlement. With only 40km of roads across Svalbard and no connecting roads between settlements, there’s little need for cars. Locals rely mainly on snowmobiles and boats. As we near the settlement, I spot a man at a petrol station, not filling up a car, but his snowmobile. I also spot dozens of Svalbard reindeer. These creatures sport a distinctive look, quite different from “Santa’s reindeer”. Adapted to the harsh climate, they boast thick fur, stout legs, a short neck, and a compact body. Lacking natural predators, they show little fear of humans, and I often see them casually wandering through the settlement.
I’m here in “sunny winter”, one of Svalbard’s three distinct seasons. The sun doesn’t set for four months. With no natural cues for waking up or going to sleep, I rely on my watch to guide me through the day. Between October and February, the region plunges into complete darkness, 24/7, except for the alluring Northern Lights.
Walruses are a notable inhabitant of the waters around Svalbard, especially in the fjords and on the pack ice. I join a walrus-watching expedition aboard a small yet comfortable, enclosed RIB boat in the icy waters of Isfjorden, the second longest fjord in Svalbard. Here, the water is alive. Thin ice sheets converge and part ways, creating a mesmerizing mosaic. I’m drawn to the outer deck of the boat, despite the bone-chilling cold, just to be closer to this ever-changing canvas of ice and water. We see walruses, both on the ice and in the water. They’re much bigger than I thought. One particularly curious walrus grazes the side of our boat, its hypersensitive whiskers revealing its fascination with our presence.
As I lack a firearm licence , venturing beyond the settlement requires me to go with a licensed tour guide. The options for exploration are diverse, ranging from hiking, snowmobiling, and ice caving or climbing to bird watching and boat trips. Opting for a more personalised experience, we book a half-day hiking excursion with a private guide.
Our guide, Masha, holds certifications in first aid, avalanche rescues, snow and ski guiding, and, notably, a firearms licence that she’s never had to use. However, she eagerly shares incredible stories of watching polar bears in the wild from a distance, including one memorable encounter with a mother and her cub. The cub’s playful interaction with a dead fish in the water left a lasting impression.
Fortunately, we don’t encounter any polar bears. “There’s no food for them this high up in the mountains”, assures Masha. After attaching micro spikes to our hiking boots, we’re ready to navigate the icy terrain. We catch glimpses of an elusive Arctic fox sneaking around high on the ridge, determined to seize birds’ eggs straight from nests, as well as reindeer foraging in the snowy tundra to reach the grass below.
At the summit of our hike, I notice myself catching my breath, not due to exhaustion, but because of the astonishing sight. As far as the eye can see, all around us is white. It stretches for miles, blanketing precipitous mountains and filling the valleys. The only sounds that reach my ears are the gentle breeze weaving its way through the valley below and the occasional birdsong. The only disruption is the muffled crunch of our boots shifting on the icy ground. This is untamed, unfiltered raw beauty. It is breathtaking.
On our hike, we also stop by the Global Seed Vault, affectionately nicknamed the “Doomsday Vault.” This extraordinary facility serves as the world’s ultimate insurance policy, safeguarding millions of seeds, in case climate change or any other catastrophe threatens their existence.
There are dining options catering to all tastes. A visit to the world’s northernmost pub is a unique one, offering a photo opportunity beside the sign proclaiming exactly this. My favourite is the cosy space at Huskie Café. Here, there’s a rotating crew of local dogs who make themselves comfortable at your feet or on the couch beside you as you sip your coffee.
Worryingly, Svalbard’s climate is experiencing dramatic change. Studies suggest the archipelago is warming six times faster than the global average. With 60 per cent of Svalbard covered in glaciers, this is concerning. Global heating is affecting the entire Arctic ecosystem. As the sea ice shrinks, so goes the resting, breeding, and hunting grounds for many animals, including polar bears, arctic foxes, beluga whales and seals. The sad reality is that the melting of this unique environment has more to do with the actions of the rest of the world than with the efforts of those in Svalbard.
Over my weeklong journey in Svalbard, I chat with many locals both in the settlement and while on various tours. The captain of our walrus-watching cruise says he initially moved to Svalbard with the plan to work just one summer season. He laughs as he shares this; he’s now been here six years. It seems to be a common theme among residents - the magnetic pull of this archipelago captures the hearts of everyone who sets foot on its icy ground. And indeed, I, too, find myself entranced by its beauty and its indomitable spirit. Svalbard has etched its place in my heart, and I can only hope to return to its icy embrace once more.
GETTING THERE
Fly from Auckland to Oslo with one stop with Qatar Airways and Emirates. Svalbard can be reached with SAS or Norwegian Airways, with flights departing both Oslo and Tromsø.
DETAILS
There are various accommodation options, from backpacker hostels to Airbnb’s, hotels, and even luxury five-star stays.
OPINION: The good, the bad and the very, very lonely.