For us, the last night and the finale of the itinerary was a Viking feast at Lofotr, a unique location not least in terms of climate. The Gulf Stream means that the archipelago has the largest positive temperature anomaly in the world relative to latitude, so the average temperature never drops much below -3°C despite being about 100 miles north of the Arctic Circle.
This makes the area rich in wildlife, especially cod, which would have been one of the big commodities for the Hanseatic League. It would have been exported out to the rest of Europe from Bergen, which brought to mind the first night of the trip, as if to bring things full circle.
The feast itself was enjoyable and entertaining – and not just because I convinced the Viking Master that I had enough longboats to be a worthy husband for his daughter. The traditional lamb meal was wholesome and filling – and accompanied by a copious amount of honey mead, which was to be quaffed at an alarming rate.
It seemed Norway and Hurtigruten had conspired to make our last night truly special. At around 11pm, the MS Kong Harald ventured up into the Trollfjord – which is exactly as it sounds: a fjord named after a troll, a key character in Norse mythology. The troll theme is widespread throughout Norway, from local bus drivers in Bergen adoring their dashboard with figurines, to three life-size ‘trolls’ causing havoc on-board the Kong Harald.
The fjord is, at its narrowest, around 100m wide – 21 metres less than the length of the ship. Almost seemingly just to show off, the captain cruised into one of the narrower sections of the Trollfjord and pulled off a heart-stopping 180° turn, complete with lighting to show just how close we were to the edge (as well as help with navigation). I am almost certain at one point we scraped the cliffside.
But there was one final flourish. We called it a night and went to our cabins, as just I powered down my laptop to go to sleep, I received a phone call. The message comprised only two words: “They’re here,” but I knew instantly what was happening. The elusive Northern Lights had shown themselves, a shallow arc of hazy grey reaching right across the sky in front of the boat. Having just decided we were ready for bed, we stayed up for several hours just to watch the scene unfold. Every time the activity of the aurora died down, gazing at the countless stars over the ship kept us occupied – I have honestly never seen so many stars in my life.
The next morning, ‘King Neptune’ made an appearance for an ‘Arctic Circle celebration’ – although this wasn’t the usual ‘bottle of bubbly’ affair. Somewhat of a Hurtigruten tradition, the captain and crew pour ice-cold water down the necks of the passengers to commemorate the trip. It’s great fun, you get a certificate, and as far as I could tell, no-one fell ill.
Our final port of call was Tromsø, the ‘Capital of the Arctic’. From here, many polar expeditions have been launched – and some subsequently rescued. Fortunately for us, there were no rescue missions required; the Kong Harald, celebrating its 20th anniversary (which was in turn launched in 1993 to mark Hurtigruten’s centenary) had brought us to where we needed to be, almost 200 miles inside the Arctic Circle.
And the most ridiculous thing? The woolly hat I had to take off while walking in Tromsø, because it was so warm, was instantly needed as soon as I got off the plane at Heathrow.
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