Don’t go to close to the edge,” our shotgun-clad guide tells our mini-photography group as we peer over the top of a bird cliff in a plant and bird sanctuary called Ossian Sars. While the spectacular view looking out at our beautiful ship in the Kongsfjord is enough to please any adventurer, the birds take center stage in the sanctuary that’s dotted with purple and yellow flowers. The chorus of squawks is more like a hum as the birds fly in and out of the towering cliff we’re standing on top of. An Arctic fox hunts along the shore, hoping for a baby bird to fall from the nest, and as we begin our descent, a rumble from above is heard. We immediately stop in our tracks. Rocks come crashing down, and, through the dust comes a startled pack of reindeer that lock eyes with us. They take an impossibly steep path down the mountain doing there best to avoid this pack of strange animals intruding on their sanctuary. On the shore a group of women decide that the Arctic is no match for their strong German sensibilities and take the polar plunge. Shivering like little Chihuahuas, they quickly pile onto the boats and we follow them back to our home base.
“Don’t stray from the path,” a Finnish woman screams out at me as I search for a bathroom in the second northernmost most settlement in the world, Ny-Ålesund. “The polar bears can come at any moment!” While I run through the soggy permafrost back to the path to avoid being lunch for a bear, I find a little building bumping with music. It’s a bar filled with the world’s top arctic researchers who all call Ny-Ålesund home. The settlement has around 15 nationalities represented and an average of 120 research projects going on at one time, and these hard working men and women from around the world are crammed in a darkly lit bar. A band is getting ready to go on, and a Dutch woman offers me a beer, “The Germans sure like their shots,” she says coolly as she takes a sip of her Tennessee bourbon. She goes around the room like the cool girl at school pointing out the various clicks that are clearly getting rowdier with each pulse of the drummer’s bass. The arguments turn from debating the changing levels of CO2 in Svalbard’s ice to “Is Kim Kardashian actually pregnant again?” “Researchers, they’re just like us,” I laugh trying to connect to the cool girl. She buys me another beer and walks away.
The midnight sun isn’t enough to heat up the walk back to the boat as heavy winds wrap dust and snow from the mountain slopes, which get caught in the hood of a bust of Roald Amundsen, the great explorer who was the first person to reach the South Pole and lead the first flyover of the North Pole. My fellow cruisers and I take our last look at the settlement and wave goodbye to the researchers.
In the morning, the staff (Saraj, Remi, Signi, Ralf, Karolina, Yann, and Espn) wish us a farewell with certificates proclaiming that we’ve reached the High Arctic by crossing 80-degrees North. As I exit the boat and begin the walk back up the hill to the hotel, Jorge and Stian are already there to greet me. “We missed you!” they say, and they can see through my tired explorer eyes that I am in need of some American comfort. “We have exactly the place for us to eat,” Stain says. “We’re getting pizza!” After days of fish, fish, fish, and fish, I devour a hefty portion of the two pies and aquavit. The two charmers also get me some adorable Svalbard merchandise that show off the booming tourist economy, which leads me to find out about not only their future in the city, but the city’s future.
“Now is a hard time for the economy and society in Longyearbyen since the mining industry is going through very hard times (financially speaking), but there are also many opportunities,” Jorge tells me. “I would say that education and research represent a very interesting opportunity for the future if the University center assumes a bigger role in Svalbard,” he adds.
“Also the travel industry will play a bigger part in the future,” Stian says. Stian works for another hotel in town, the Basecamp Explorer (a well-styled hotel smack-dab in the middle of town).
“Just don’t overthink a possible holiday and book your next fly to Norway and from Oslo to Longyearbyen. You will have a once-in-a-lifetime experience visiting the world’s northernmost town,” he says. And with a hug, I say goodbye to my new friends.
After exiting my hotel and rolling my suitcase to avoid a tiny Arctic fox skull, l look out at the 4 A.M. mist that’s blanketing the beautiful colors of the city’s buildings. Above, on the mountain behind me, I see the now-decaying Mine 1 and think of the hopes John Munroe Longyear had when he invested in the land. Directly across from where I stand, a patch of white crosses marks the few people who are laid to rest here. Each person buried here had died on the mainland (when you’re sick in Longyearbyen, or too old, you’re sent back to mainland Norway), and all had requested that their ashes be brought back to a land that has enticed people for generations.
The biting cold, mixed with the saltwater smell is intoxicating. I imagine those who chartered this course before me. The explorers who sought notoriety, the scientists who risked their lives to help us better understand our planet, and the thousands who sought fortune from the bounties on both land and sea.
While my adventure physically ends as I board the bus to the airport, Svalbard stays in my thoughts to this day. How can Svalbard, a land with such extremes and such harshness also hold so much beauty? I picture the small flowers popping up from the permafrost, the walruses luxuriating on the beach, the birds diving for dinner, and my newfound friends enjoying a beer in town, and appreciate that life, friendship, and astounding natural wonders are found in even the most extreme parts of the world.
