Improbable, measureless and beautifully sinister, Svalbard is a natural film set – it’s no wonder parts of Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning were filmed here.
The size of Ireland, the Norwegian archipelago is the largest wilderness in Europe – just 400 miles from the North Pole. Most of it is rock and ice and only one island, Spitsbergen, is inhabited, home to 2,600 souls in five tiny settlements.
I’m here for a week – joining a snowmobile expedition. Here’s how it went…
Ultra cold at base camp Svalbard never thaws and is frozen to a depth of more than 330ft (100m). At the heart of this icy world is Longyearbyen, a former coal mining town. In spring the temperature hovers at about -15C.
This is the world’s most northerly town, featuring the most northerly library, pub, schools and a handful of ‘Scandi cool’ hotels. Seal features on menus. Snowmobiles are sold at the Co-op. Reindeer patrol the tundras.
It’s illegal to leave Longyearbyen without weapons. ‘Polar bears can appear anywhere,’ warns our guide, Elise, who carries a rifle. The previous week a group was stalked (luckily, without incident).
Typically they’re 7ft-plus and can weigh more than 100 stone (630kg). There are more than 3,000 in Svalbard. You can spot stuffed bears all over town: in the airport, pub and even the church.
Out on the ice there are six in our group, each with a snowmobile. For eight hours we ride up frozen rivers, through ice fields and on to glaciers, the temperature dropping to -27C. We’re wearing polar suits and the handlebars are heated. For sustenance we have freeze-dried curry.
John Gimlette visits Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago between mainland Norway and the North Pole
The size of Ireland, the Norwegian archipelago is the largest wilderness in Europe – and just 400 miles from the North Pole
Polar bears are 7ft-plus and can weigh more than 100 stone (630kg). There are more than 3,000 in Svalbard
The size of Ireland, the Norwegian archipelago is the largest wilderness in Europe – just 400 miles from the North Pole
After Longyearbyen we see no one else. It’s an unforgettable ride, with mountains as white as clouds below a cobalt-blue sky. Cliffs arise in the distance looking like stacks of iced pink coins. On one occasion, at Horbyebreen, we enter a natural tunnel beneath the glacier. The silence is enormous.
After 84 miles we reach the improbably stylish Nordenskiold Lodge, with leather armchairs, panoramic windows and even a sauna. Here we’re looked after by a proper Arctic couple: Trond, a former trapper, and his partner, Ragna, who served up a superb reindeer stew.
Plumbing is tricky in the tundra, so men have to pee outside. Doing so involves taking an armed guard (Trond) who keeps an eye out for polar bears with his .44 Magnum.
Eight miles away is the Russian mining town of Pyramiden. Under the 1920 Svalbard Treaty, Moscow is permitted to extract coal, and the town is a relic of Soviet times.
Due to sanctions, we don’t visit, but we do skirt the sea-ice around the town. It’s a gloomy place of scabby tower blocks and rusting cranes that during its heyday (1975-85) was home to 900 miners. Now only 20 remain – plus a statue of Vladimir Lenin.
On our final day we walk across a frozen bay to the bottom of Nordenskiold Glacier. Here great columns of ice sheer off and collapse with a boom. From afar the glacier wall looks like a torrent of smashed up skyscrapers. But close up it’s more like a rampart made of turquoise marble. In the evening, Ragna drops chunks of this prehistoric ice in our whiskies.
On Spitsbergen there are more huskies than humans. Before snowmobiles, dogs were the only way to travel.
On our return I try what’s known as mushing, any sport powered by dogs.
On Spitsbergen there are more huskies than humans. Before snowmobiles, dogs were the only way to travel
A zodiac travels between the glaciers of Svalbard
With names like Ravioli, Stinky and Twix, they’re strong, affectionate and eager to please. Compared with zipping in a snowmobile it’s slow going.
Not everyone survives Svalbard. Some missions prove truly impossible. The North Pole Museum in Longyearbyen is like a gallery of mishaps. It’s all here: an aviator’s maroon suit, bits of Roald Amundsen’s plane and the doomed Italia airship.
The city museum also has a ‘catastrophe section’. One exhibit concerns the rifle of trapper Georg Nilsen, who vanished in 1921.
His skeleton was discovered in 1965, crunched up by polar bears… his rifle jammed.
John Gimlette is the author of The Gardens Of Mars: Madagascar, An Island Story, published by Head of Zeus.
This article was originally published by a www.dailymail.co.uk . Read the Original article here. .