Storfjord

I’m awake a little before our 07:30 alarm, and have slept pretty well. Vicks struggles to wake up, but with some gentle encouragement (turning the main light on, poking in the ribs etc etc), she prevails. We grab a quick breakfast, and head out to meet our bus that will take us up to Lyngen. It is COLD. We’re both wearing massive winter coats, but the wind chill is such that they don’t necessarily feel all that warm. I nearly fall over on some ice on a couple of occasions.

The drive is sensational. The views of the fjords out of the window are just breathtaking. The waters are being whipped by a strong northerly wind, and we’re driving through a blizzard. The water in many of the fjords is completely frozen. It’s warm on the coach, but looking at the scenery is making me shiver. The drive is around 3h30m. Vicks spends much of it snoozing, to take her nightly sleep total to a very positive 11h30m. As we approach Lyngen North, we can hear the wind getting stronger. There are 50mph gales forecast this afternoon, and wind-chill temperatures of -23C.

The wonderful Marianne welcomes us on arrival. She and I have been in touch a fair bit by email ahead of our trip, so it’s lovely to put a face to the name. The views from the dining room are stunning. We have some lunch - a hearty but very elegant potato and leek soup with lamb sausage for me, and an amazing looking BLT for Vicks. We are introduced to the drinks menu. Just shy of £10 for a beer or a wine. Ant and Jigs disappear out into the howling gale for a smoke. We wonder if we’ll see them again. While we eat, Triston explains to us that the reason we’re here is that he was using his VR set-up to play on Microsoft’s Flight Simulator, and he flew over this part of Norway and thought it looked cool. As a way of picking holiday destinations, it’s a new one to me…

It’s only 60m to our igloo, but the walk involves several instances of us falling over. There is a lot of ice underneath the snow. Further down the hill, the snow is deep enough for me to start sinking into it. This is comfortably the furthest North either of us have ever been, and the conditions are like nothing else we’ve ever experienced. I’m an idiot, and don neither my hat nor my gloves for the walk. This is a regrettable error. After just a few minutes outside, my fingers are so numb that I can barely put the key into the keyhole. Needn’t have bothered trying - the lock is so frozen that the key won’t turn at all. Happily, there’s an app for the resort that allows us to lock and unlock the door, manage the room temperature etc etc. The view from our igloo is breathtaking - we’re only metres from the shoreline, and the Lyngen Alps are just over the side of the fjord. We have a drink in the room, and I then can’t resist going outside. The sun is starting to set to the South West of us, and the wind is still whipping in off the water. After perhaps 90 seconds, I realise it was a mistake not wearing a mask of some kind to cover my lower face - the wind is whipping snow off the ground so quickly, that when it hits my face it feels like a million tiny pieces of glass. Jiggy is bravely sitting down at the water’s edge. I take a few pictures. My legs start to freeze. Sated, I head back into the warmth of our igloo.

We head back up to the main building around 17:00 to grab a pre-dinner drink. The short (60m) walk is challenging. We don’t stack it, but come close. Walking into the wind is a real mission. Our colleagues join us. Our dinner is fabulous. Some of the best mussels I can remember eating, a great bit of rib-eye with some local vegetables, and a top notch brownie. YUM. After dinner, we repair to the lounge, and we’re joined by Marianne, who claims she never socialises with guests, but that we’re just more fun than most of her usual clientele. Whether this is true, or she's massaging our egos, we're not sure. It’s really fun to hang out with her for a couple of hours though. Her English is sensational, and she keeps up with the ebb and flow of our conversational incredibly well.

The Aurora light goes off a couple of times. For the avoidance of doubt - the resort change the outdoor lighting from white to green when their Aurora sensor goes off. The first time it happens, we sprint outside, and see - nothing. The second time, we trot outside, and see - nothing. Marianne explains that the Aurora can be tricky to see by the naked eye. When they’re showing modestly, the colours aren’t that obvious. Interestingly, what your eye sees as white, your camera should show as green. It’s apparently quite easy to mistake the Aurora for white cloud. When the lights change for a third time, we amble outside, and can faintly pick up some dancing light in the sky. We’re not talking a massive light show. It’s subtle, but noticeable. I only have my iPhone with me, so change a couple of settings to make sure I’m on a long exposure, and click click click - more out of hope than expectation. The resulting pics are decent, if not mind-blowing. The wind is still blowing hard, and it remains incredibly cold.

Back in the warmth of the bar, we (well, some of us…) start in on the Aquavit. Aquavit is made in much the same way as vodka, but is flavoured with herbs and spices. My favourite is their Christmas Aquavit, which has cinnamon and caraway in it. We play several rounds of Giant Beaver (Google it) which has us cackling with laughter. The bar closes in decent time. The clock hits 22:15, and we grab another round for the road. Marianne wishes us a good night, we wrap ourselves up for the short but frigid walk back to our igloo, and hit the hay.Les mer