The best travel plans are the ones that aren’t planned. That’s how my best friend and I ended up in Narvik, a small town in northern Norway, in the dead of winter. We had 5 days to spend, no meticulous itinerary, and a nagging concern at the forefront of our minds about how we were going to get through the upcoming dark and cold days. Ultimately, we managed to have a more memorable vacation than we had anticipated. Here are some anecdotes from the trip.
Dog sledding with the Samis
“Look for the tall man with the long hair, wearing traditional clothing” — instructed the hotel receptionist, as we were trying to find our guide who would take us for our evening of dog-sledding and the culture of the Samis, an indigenous people of the Nordic region. At 4pm, it was already pitch dark and freezing, and we were anticipating the evening with not a little amount of trepidation, wondering how on earth we were going to survive the outdoors, the heavy snowfall and the darkness.
Mr. Kvernmo, our guide and Sami shaman, met us outside the hotel, ready to drive us to his hamlet that was about 45 minutes away from the town of Narvik. On the way, he kept up a lively conversation, probing us with questions about the Indian culture. It was clear from the beginning that he was a man who was curious and respectful about other cultures — after all he was working hard to preserve his own!
Upon reaching the hamlet, a rush of anxiety kicked into me at the unfamiliar prospect of walking through ankle deep snow in pitch darkness — Mr. Kvernmo had to help us find our footing with his flashlight. We then met his kind-eyed wife and two kids who were outfitted in snow suits, and who had an inclination to run around everywhere, drop down on their stomachs and eat fresh snow.
The family provided us with protective snow coveralls and shoes, because our own winter clothes seemed futile against the extreme cold we would be facing. Here also, my anxiety was kicking into high gear — not because I was frightened by the clothes, but because we could clearly hear a very large pack of very excited dogs barking and howling into the night. We made our way to the brightly lit open field where the dogs were kept, and the sight, noise and smell instantly reminded me of every bad Indian movie I’ve seen, in which the good guy gets thrown into a pack of wild and hungry dogs. My senses kicked into overload even as the other caretakers (Jaco and Tommy) instructed us on how to hold on to our sleds and how to brake.
When we finally took off with Jaco as the pilot, me on the second sled, my friend behind me, followed by a rear-guard (Tommy), the dogs on my sled were so excited that they pounced forward immediately and ran at break-neck speed until their noses were up against the back of (a relatively slow-moving) Jaco’s knees. He patiently instructed me to brake and control the speed, which I did clumsily, hanging on to the handle of the sled for dear life. It did not help that it was pitch dark and cloudy and we were riding through the woods with nothing to distract me from the fact that I had very little control over a very fast moving vehicle that I was on. After a period of stressfully trying to brake and control the dogs’ speed, my arms and shoulders were aching badly enough that I was not enjoying the ride at all, and I asked to sit on Tommy’s sled rather than drive one myself. After that, I had a relatively more relaxed experience as I left the job of controlling the dogs to Tommy and enjoyed the surreal ride through the snow-covered woods.
After the ride, we went back to the Sami tent (lavvu) for the rest of our evening, tired but also exhilarated, to find a deliciously hot fire burning in the middle of the tent. We were served a piping hot dinner — reindeer soup, rice and vegetables — and we sat around the fire, warming our feet and enjoying the food as we related our experiences from the evening. This was when Mr. Kvernmo and Jaco shared a piece of insight that I found so significant that I kept holding on to it throughout our stay in Narvik. The conversation had turned to harsh winters and coping with the dark days and long nights — we had wondered out loud about the difficulties of living under such conditions. But, their responses and attitude towards this reality were very surprising to us. “It’s simply a part of life here,” they said. “When you know that there is darkness and cold for a reason, and when you know that this is beyond your control, then you simply realize there is no point in getting dejected and staying in bed all day. You simply have to move around, do a lot of things, and keep on going, no matter how dark or cold it is outside.” Well, not word for word, but that was the gist. Jaco admitted that when he first moved to Norway, he’d sleep for 12 hours a day at one point simply because it was very dark outside, but slowly got over this habit as he began working on things that were important to him — the dogs.
We ended the night after an engrossing narration of the Sami people’s history, traditional Sami songs known as joiks and a powerful ceremony that paid tribute to the souls of our ancestors that are believed to live in the Northern Lights. This ceremony is believed to prepare you in a way before you finally meet the Northern Lights. And although we hadn’t planned our trip this way, it was a very fitting experience, because the next evening we were hoping to chase — and meet — the Northern Lights.
Northern Lights
When I think of the evening we spent chasing the Northern lights in Narvik, the one person that lights up my memory as much as our experience of the Aurora Borealis is Francesco — the photographer-guide who led our tour group on our adventure.
I hadn’t realized that it would be an actual chase — with factors such as weather and timing and solar activity under consideration, it had to be dynamic and unpredictable. When we met Francesco in the hotel lobby, he struck me as resembling a young Keanu Reeves — with olive skin and liquid eyes and tousled brown hair. He had a relaxed air about him, but, at the same time, alert and precise movements that seemed to say — “let’s get down to business already”. His accent still retained the lilt of the Italian language, and I found it extremely easy on the ears.
As we piled into the minibus and headed out, Francesco explained the science behind the northern lights, and why our chances of seeing a spectacular display were low. Although it was disappointing to hear this at the start of our tour, his business-like tone and his promises to do his best to guide us well were reassuring. He kept us engaged during the drive for the first half hour or so with tales of his past adventures in chasing the northern lights. One would quite easily agree that Francesco holds a relatively more exciting and adventurous job than most. However, I found it interesting that throughout the narration of these stories, there was no tinge of pride in his tone at all. Instead, his voice brimmed with child-like curiosity, wonder and eagerness to prepare us for what we were about to experience.
Through the night, whenever he spotted a hint of activity through the camera, he would immediately exclaim with pleasure, as though it was his first time seeing the lights in the sky. We would then rush to crowd around him to catch a glimpse. At every turn of the night, whether it was a change in the solar activity reading, or a clearing of the sky or gathering of clouds, he would calmly explain to us why he thought we should stay or should move to a better spot and then he would wait for our consent — as if we were not already hanging on to his every word!
At our final spot of the night, almost two hours away from our starting point, we were chilled to the bone and close to giving up hope of seeing significant activity. Some of us retreated into the bus to unfreeze our cold and aching feet. But the sky opened up at this moment to reveal a spectacular burst of activity. Francesco made a mad dash to the bus yelling “Come out! Come out!”, and finally we were treated to an out of the world streak of lights and colors moving across the sky.
We finished this unforgettable night contented with our successful Northern Lights experience, feeling that the cold and freezing hours leading up to it were well worth it indeed.
