Arctic Adventures: Svalbard Excursions (Part 2)

While my accommodation and flights to Longyearbyen were still somewhat budget friendly, my day trips were not quite so easy on my wallet. In fact, the three of them combined were more expensive than the costs of  flights and accommodation. But even though they cost me an arm and a leg, excursions are definitely NOT something you want to save on while in Svalbard; only by some serious hiking (with huskies!) and sailing do you get to know what summer in Svalbard is all about!

My first trip was hiking to the summit of Trollsteinen, a 850m/2800 ft hill overlooking the town of Longyearbyen. It was organized by Spitsbergen Travel for 745NOK (or €85/£70), with a duration of approx. 6 hours. It was not necessarily easy, but certainly doable for a beginning hiker like me. After being picked up we started the hike with our group of 10 (some Poles, some Swedes, our Norwegian guide and me) at the far end of Nybyen, behind the guesthouse. There, the first obstacle presented itself: the crossing of a shallow river. Having bought my semi-waterproof boots just the week before, they certainly started off with a baptism of fire (or rather ice), and luckily they did not perish but suffice. A Polish girl donning canvas AllStars still had dry feet as well (for now). Hiking in the empty wilderness and now a safe distance from town, our guide paused, calmly took out a bullet and loaded her rifle to protect us from possible bears, as you can see in the bottomright pic below.

The hike was absolutely amazing. The views increased from ‘Oh wow’ to ‘Oh my god I want to live here’ the higher you got, and at a certain point you just stop trying to express how gorgeous your surroundings are, and besides the occasional ‘Ahhh’ enjoy the beauty of nature without words. That is not to say we didn’t talk! The group was awesome and I got to know some great people. After about an hour of hiking, there it was, coming up around the corner: the Lars glacier. A massive snow-covered sheet of ice between hills of gray rocks and black sand, situated under bright blue skies. Picture perfect.

When first setting foot on the glacier I was internally screaming and crossing off another item of my bucket list. The sound of frozen snow crackling under my feet, jumping over deep crevasses created by the melting snow, and refilling my water bottles with crystal clear and ice cold fresh water.

The resilience of nature is something that never ceases to amaze me. Even in this ice wilderness in Arctic Norway, in one of the harshest climates, there were flowers and mosses growing all over the place. After walking across the glacier came the messy and difficult part: trying to ascend in sand which was overenthusiastic in trying to hug our feet and seemed determined never to let go. Luckily the last bit to the top was a well-used, albeit narrow, path on the ridge of the mountainside.

Having reached the top, each of us put our names on the little notebook that is kept on all of the 12 summits around Longyearbyen: at the end of the season the names are counted and the people who have ascended the most times get a chance to win a helicopter trip to Ny Alesund, the remote research station on Svalbard (now that’s an incentive!).

Our guide told us it was the best weather she’s ever had at the top, and it was incredible indeed: even at an height of 849 meters above sea level there was no wind at all, and with the sunshine warming us we could even enjoy the panorama view without our coats. On our way down we took a detour to the top of Sarkofagen, the tiny toddler hill at the end of Nybyen which we passed on our way up, to write our names in that summit book as well. Reaching the bottom we quickly saw that the morning obstacle had multiplied: the river, created by the melting glacier, had grown substantially because of the relatively warm weather, and jumping to the other side whilst staying as dry as possible was quite the challenge. My boots and gaiters got soaking wet, but guess what? The Polish girl in her AllStars was completely dry, top to bottom! Oh well. I guess it doesn’t take the right equipment, just talent 😉

The next day I did the Foxfonna Hike with Green Dog Svalbard, which retails for 790 NOK (or €95/£75). While the duration of the hike is about the same as the hike to Trollsteinen, Foxfonna is definitely more strenuous: where Trollsteinen at least has some tracks (if not paths), one really requires balance, luck and a Hail Mary if you want to keep upright while hiking across Foxfonna. Most of the hike requires jumping from one boulder to the other or trying to get a grip on a bed of small rocks. But god, the sights you see are completely worth all the discomfort and you feel like you’re on a true adventure!

After picking up two Ozzies and two Italians downtown we drove all the way up to the last active mine of Longyearbyen to start our hike from there. And you don’t have to guess twice what the best part of hiking with Green Dog Svalbard was: the dog! Happily greeting us when she got out of her kennel and enthusiastically finding her way with a deceptive ease around the rough terrain, she was the perfect companion for the trip. I could have cuddled with her for days (and I like to think she felt the same way about me).

At the highest point of the hike, on top of the moraine (which was not an official summit so alas, no notebook to write our names in), we stopped for tea and biscuits. After my 12th biscuit (What? You do know you need calories to do all that hiking, right? RIGHT?) break time was over and we started our descend. At a certain point there didn’t seem to be any direction left that we could take. We were basically standing on the edge of a cliff. And guess what? Yes, that was exactly the direction we were going: down with an incline of about 35%. You think I’m exaggerating? Look at these pics:

Since I’m an idiot with the motor control of a baby I started going down like a spider at first: on my hands and feet with my bum scraping over all the gorgeous nature of Svalbard. After about a minute my biceps couldn’t take that muscle strain anymore (I’m in such good shape, I know, thank you) and I decided to try and do the most responsible and smart thing possible: just run down. And run I did. Trying to be careful not to land in ankle deep moss and avoiding the larger stones I was at the bottom of the stunning valley about 10 minutes faster than our guide and 15 minutes faster than the rest of our little group. To this day I’m still amazed I didn’t fall or break any bones.

For lunch we went to an idyllic cabin owned by Green Dog Svalbard at the end of Adventdalen. I don’t know whether it was the hunger making my tastebuds go crazy or not, but the dried meal I had, vegetarian pasta with olives, was really good! Sitting for a bit in that lovely wood cabin in the middle of nowhere, having a hot meal on a cold day, and looking out of the windows to see beautiful Svalbard: this is what visiting the Arctic should be.

The next day I was rudely awoken by my alarm at an ungodly hour to get ready for my pick-up for the last day trip. I was immensely happy that it was a boat trip that required little to no walking because every single muscle in my legs was inflamed. I guess that’s what you get for running down a hill, huh? The trip to the Esmark glacier and Barentsburg was the most expensive of all: at a whopping 1450NOK (or €170/£135) it is the most I’ve ever paid for a day trip. After about an hour of sailing in the comfortable and warm Polar Girl a guy who had been standing on one of the outside decks came running into the cabin and yelled “QUICK, I SEE WHALES!” And whales we saw, against a picturesque backdrop of the Isfjord, low hanging clouds and sharp mountain peaks. I was so busy gazing at these beautiful creatures in their natural environment that I didn’t realize I should probably take pictures until the last minute.

From that point onwards most of the passengers remained on the upper or lower outside decks to slowly but surely see the enormous Esmark glacier slide into view. While taking photographs I started to notice shimmering objects in the water. The closer we got, the more of these objects were seen in the water, and it wasn’t until one floated right next to the boat that I saw it were little ice floes.

Seeing the glacier increase in size with every passing minute made me feel very small. Humankind might rule the world, but definitely not the arctic! Nature as it should be, pure. If something were to happen to us there, we would all surely die before help could arrive. A strangely comforting thought, that try as we may to colonize every part of the earth, there would always be remote regions with very little human interference. And whenever humans do interfere too much, they die: a French woman was killed by calving ice from the Esmark glacier in 2012 when she got too close for comfort. During our approach the ice floes became bigger and bigger, and at a certain point we could actually feel the cold emanating from the glacier. Stopping at a safe distance from the glacier to take pictures, I actually saw the ice calving and was lucky enough to snap a shot! See below.

Esmark Glacier, Svalbard

Sailing on to Barentsburg, the Russian mining settlement in Svalbard, the PA system on the boat announced this little gem as if it was nothing: “In Barentsburg there are 272 stairs to get from the harbour to the town”. Sorry, come again? 272 steps? At this point I was so sore from the previous days hiking, but it seemed there was no other way (okay, you could reserve a taxi, but since none of the seniors on board expressed interest in doing that I sure as hell wasn’t gonna). I was going to have to walk the stairs. It was a rewarding ascent though, some of my best Barentsburg pictures were taken from the stairs:

A Russian girl with the loveliest thick accent ever gave us a tour of the town, and explained that of the 400 inhabitants she was one of only 4 who spoke English. The mine workers of Barentsburg get an 18 month contract to work on Svalbard, and don’t return to Russia until their time is up. Then, after 2 months of leave, they have the possiblity of coming back for another 18 month shift, but most don’t. Since homesickness is a very real condition working in Barentsburg, there was a lot of great street art to enrich the dull buildings: below you can see the ‘Only forest of Svalbard’ and a Russian poem saying something along the lines of ‘No matter where you go now, the arctic will never leave you’. Which is certainly true!

Barentsburg, Russian mining town on Svalbard

Barentsburg is a town of polarized (See what I did there?) contrasts: many signs remind you of the old Russia, including a statue of Lenin and a sign cheering on communism. Meanwhile, the capitalist system has allowed for an influx of cash, resulting in a brand new hotel, museum, indoor swimming pool (!), library, new worker’s housing, supermarket, the world’s northernmost brewery, one of the smallest churches in existence, a research station, and also a Babooshka cutout that looks like she’s selling drugs (or sex) to youngsters. Gorgeous in all its ugliness, Barentsburg was without a doubt the most alien place I have ever had the pleasure of visiting.

Lenin’s bust in Barent’sburg

Sailing back to Longyearbyen, our last sight of the day was the gorgeous Fuglefjella or bird mountain. The sheer amount of bird shit makes the cliffs facing the Isfjorden very fertile and various kinds of mosses grow there, which were in their richly coloured autumn prime. Turning the corner into Adventfjorden we saw Longyearbyen lying quietly on the coastline. A perfect end to a perfect day.