Nov 2006

My first encounter with the Aurora Borealis occurred by chance. During my student days in Stockholm, I had received a letter from a friend who had in her closing remarks wished me a great Scandinavian experience, especially with regard to the famous northern lights. So, one chilly autumn afternoon, having finished an assignment and not in a particular mood to study, I decided to browse the internet for Scandinavian related topics of interest and I chose the topic ‘Aurora’. I came across Dick Hutchison’s page. My first glimpse of the aurora and I was totally bewitched. Truly love at first sight. It became my infatuation and for days after I would in all my free time read articles about the aurora on the web and admire the breathtaking pictures of the phenomenon captured by mortal cameras. I decided I had to see this phenomenon in person and thus began my planning for my arctic trip. Many lovely hours were spent searching for places where the aurora could be best observed, the season for observing it. Due to time and financial constraints of student life, it was finally decided that the trip would be a Christmas weekend trip to Kiruna, in the north of Sweden. My travel partner, a fellow Sri Lankan expatriate in Stockholm, was more interested in sightseeing than simply observing nature at a cost. Moreover, we were taking a chance with the aurora. Only the few lucky ones got to see the aurora. So, I browsed the web and looked up tempting options for the tourist, to prevent any disappointment, the ice hotel, a dog sledge ride and a visit to a Sami Village and heritage museum etc. Travelling modes was explored and decided upon, youth hostels and guest houses were browsed and finalized and the itinerary planned.

My travel partner and I set off on the eveningtrain from T-Centralen in Stockholm on more than 12 hour journey to Kiruna in the Swedish Lapland. We had also decided to take advantage of the direct train to Narvik, a town which played an important role in World War II and had the unique placement that it could be reached only via the train from Stockholm. As the fjords in northern Lappland were famous for their breathtaking beauty, we decided to go straight ahead and take in the famous views from the train and return to Kiruna by the return train. On boarding the train in Stockholm, we searched for our couchette numbers and found that though I had booked adjacent seat numbers, our seats were in adjacent compartments. My partner’s seat was in a fully packed compartment of teenagers and mine was in a compartment with only two other passengers. So, she shifted to my compartment. Our fellow passengers were going home up to Central Sweden for their Christmas vacation, and were curious as to where we were going.

Kiruna? Why there?
Just to experience the Swedish winter.
But it is so cold up there.
Yes. We know.
But why do you want to be so cold? There is nothing to see there.
We are interested in the Aurora.
The aurora?
The Northern Lights.
The Northern Lights? Jaha. Norrsken.
But, it is so much better in the summer?
You can’t see the Northern Lights in the summer.
But it is so cold up there.
We come from a very warm country and the cold intrigues us.
Do you have enough warm clothes?
Yes. We think so.
You will need lots of warm clothes.

Our fellow passengers having worked overtime for the Christmas holidays were tired and were ready to go to bed by 7p.m. As they were particular about sleeping in their particular numbers, we had to give up sitting positions to have the bunk beds put in place. My friend decided to go out for a walk. She returned excited in a few minutes. She had spotted an empty couchette in that compartment. We decided to move there. Feeling the freedom of space, we put up our legs and decided to have our dinner. My travel partner had been responsible for bringing our dinner and she had bought a pizza from a pizzeria near her apartment. She said that she had ordered an interesting topping, which she was curious about trying. “What was the topping?” I asked. “Banana, Chicken and peanuts”, came the reply. Ugh. I thought. What a combination. I had no alternative but to eat a slice of that dreadful mixture, in order to be not disrespectful of my friend’s choice. As we sat talking, the ticket inspector came by. She asked questions, in rapid Swedish. I could only make out a word here and there but I assumed she was asking to see our tickets. So, we took them out. She again spoke rapidly. Again I assumed she must be asking why we were in a different couchette, than the one assigned to us. So, I replied that we wanted a place to sit and talk, while our fellow-travellers had wanted to sleep and that we would go back to our couchette once the passengers assigned to this couchette returned. We asked if it was alright. She smiled, nodded and left. We chatted till we grew tired and as no-one still came, we decided to sleep in that couchette itself. We closed the door and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, there was knocking on the door. I got up and rushed to open the door, thinking that the passengers for this compartment had come. There was a woman and a little boy, her son, standing outside. She apologized and said they were from the sitting compartments (sittplatts) and they had been travelling since the day before from Berlin and were very tired and her son was badly in need of sleep. The ticket conductor had directed them to her compartment. We realized then that we had actually taken over the conductor’s room. And now, bits of words from what the conductor had said earlier that night made sense. We pulled out the bunk beds for the two. They said they were going to their hometown of Tromso in the north of Norway, beyond Narvik. They said that we should have gone all the way upto Tromso as it was really beautiful. My friend looked at me. The expression on her face was that I had overlooked this in my travel planning. I shrugged. One had to always set a limit to desire or else one would never be satisfied. Our major goal and budget needed to be matched, the rest were fringe benefits. We went back to sleep. I tried to catch glimpses of the night sky through the window, in the hope of catching the aurora but the light that the electric train cast on the snow outside was reflected back to the windows and that was all that could be seen outside.

In the morning, the two returned to their sittplatts, even though we invited them to stay over for the remaining trip up to Narvik. I had brought along a flask of hot water and we made some Nescafe coffee and had our breakfast, watching the passing landscape. We passed Kiruna at 8a.m. and the journey became more interesting as our train trudged past the Lapporten or the Gateway to Lappland, a U-shaped mountain pass beyond Kiruna.

Vast expanses of white was all that could be seen for miles and then suddenly we entered a rocky region, with sudden drops, the famous fjords. I had read on the web that the mining town, Narvik, had been bombed a lot in the world war and a fighter plane that had dropped into the fjord was still preserved. I looked out of the window hoping to catch the sight.

We reached Kiruna around 8p.m. and we took a cab to our guesthouse. The next morning, we walked into town to explore the cheapest way of travel to the ice hotel. There was hardly a shop opened. It was Christmas Eve. We found one florist shop open and which seemed to be doing a reasonably heavy business. We walked in and approached an employee to ask some information on modes of transportation, but she asked us to take a queue number. Swedes are very particular about their queues and numbers. We didn’t want to start off on a bad footing, so we took a queue number and waited patiently. When our turn finally came up, we were told that there were buses to the ice hotel in Jukkasjärvi. They were not very sure about the number, though, but did not think that the buses ran on Christmas Eve. “So, how can we get to the ice hotel? We have come a long way and we don’t want to stay confined within the town”, we asked a bit desperate. “Well, there are the taxis. You can call. Here’s a taxi number. Shall I call one for you?” asked the helpful young shop assistant.

There was a pretty pale pink sky in the background, when we reached the ice hotel. We decided to explore the town while there was still light and besides, we had a long wait till the evening for the aurora and could explore the ice hotel in the afternoon. So, we walked towards an old church that I had marked in the tourist places to visit in Jukkasjärvi. We passed a heritage museum, which looked inviting with chopped wood piled in a corner. Unfortunately, it was closed. My friend was beginning to be testy about everything being closed as I was the one who had made all the travel arrangements and I was just content to walk around Jukkasjärvi and relax in a warm area and later on wait for the aurora. She wanted to see more sites and tourist places. Fortunately the church was open. We walked into the little wooden church which had brightly coloured drawings on its walls and, which was relatively warmer than the outside.

After sitting there for some time, in the silence of the church, we went out and it sure was a beautiful landscape. The church was on the edge of the Torneälven River, or more commonly known as the River Torne, which the founder of the ice hotel was advocating to be added to the World Heritage list.

I stood on the soft snow and looked. Pure white snow. Distant hills. No sound, except for the noise of my breath. Clear, fresh air. The sky had donned a beautiful coat of greenish, red. I took a deep breath. There was a sense of exhilaration within. I could die this minute and be perfectly content. This was paradise. I was standing on top of a frozen river and feeling complete peace of mind and contentment.

Then the cold got to me. The freezing cold crept in and all I wanted to do was to get to a relatively warmer spot. We turned back and bought some lunch at a supermarket still open and walked back to the ice hotel. The cozy wooden, reception cabin, which lodged the office, ticket counter and souvenir shop, became our pit stop for the day. After lunch, we decided to explore the ice hotel. It was dark outside and we walked towards the entrance of the ice hotel, a modest door covered by reindeer skin. The adjoining chapel door opened and a wedding party burst out. It was a beautiful sight. The bride in a beautiful white gown with the groom and best man on either side in black coats and fur caps. We learnt that this was the first wedding of the season as the chapel had just been completed. The temperature was dropping to -30 outside and we felt too cold to enjoy the sight for long and walked into the ice hotel. There was a small reception desk within the entrance. There was a couple of hotel staff at the entrance acting as guides. We decided to request one of them to show us around.

It was around -5 inside the hotel but much warmer than the outside air. We walked down the passage flanked by ice pillars, over the snow floor and were shown the gallery of ice sculptures. The theme that year had been family. Our guide, who was a student, was working at the hotel for the second consecutive year. She said that each year, ice-artists from all over the world were invited to work on the hotel. Each artist was given his or her own room to work on. We saw the globe room with the round ice bed at the centre and two ice steps leading up to the bed with lighted candle holders all around. “How can anyone sleep on ice? Wouldn’t it melt because of the warmth of the body?”, we wondered out aloud. We were told that guests were given special thermal clothing and sleeping bags and warm reindeer skin blankets and that the beds were not totally made of ice. The base had a wooden contraption to hold the structure together which provided more warmth than sleeping on a snow floor.

We saw the conference room. A rectangular ice table with six high chairs around it and a huge chandelier above. The room was well-lit by the exquisitely carved ice chandelier. We were impressed. With the warmth from the light, how can the ice not melt? We were told that optic fibre lights were used, instead of normal bulbs, which prevented or at least reduced the melting of the ice. We sat at the conference table to take a picture for memory and my jacket was a little wet when I rose, from the melting of my seat. There was even a comfy corner in front of a fire place. Two ice chairs had been placed in front of an ice fire place and a red fire glowed in its fenders. We looked again. It was again the optic fibre light covered in red, simulating the fire. We moved onto the suites: the Royal Viking suite. Costing more than 5000 Swedish Kroners per night to sleep in, it had a mini Viking ship carved out of ice in its centre with the bed in its body. An ice rune stone added to the furnishings of the suite. Various ice sculptures adorned the snow walls. We were taken to the ice bar and having come to the end of our tour, our guide left us. The ice bar was in the middle of a round room with low seating places all around, covered by reindeer skin. Guests were served alcohol in ice glasses. Being non-alcoholic, we chose orange juice instead.

We were thankful for our warm beds waiting within solid wooden walls and a central heating system back in the town of Kiruna. Nonetheless, theice hotel, which was built fresh from ice blocks cut from the River Torne and which melted and re-joined the waters of the river every summer, was an amazing fete of sculpture and definitely an experience worth visiting.

We returned to our pit stop: the wooden reception cabin. There was a coffee machine there and we gratefully had a sip of hot Gevalia coffee.

After resting a bit, we decided it was time for our aurora watch. As we went out, we saw people rush out of little, steamy wooden huts opposite the reception cabin, screaming and running for a hole in the ice and jumping into it. We were astonished though we knew Scandinavians were fond of their saunas. To go out into the extreme cold needed mental disciplining. To run out and jump into the freezing cold water naked was suicidal, we felt. Especially after sitting in a stuffy, steaming room. But, apparently the jumpers seemed to be in a euphoric state. We learnt that the experience costs nearly 1000Kr. To pay to jump into a hole in the ice. It makes you wonder at times.

We walked down past the ice hotel to the River Torne and waited. It was past 6p.m. and pitch dark. We wondered which direction in the sky we should observe. There was a faint orangish glow in one horizon, in the direction of the town of Kiruna. My friend was sure that the aurora display would be on that part of the sky. There were some clouds in the opposite direction to the town. Not a very good news but nonetheless, I was of the opinion that an aurora would start from behind the hills, in the direction perpendicular to the town and the clouds. I had no idea which was north, east, west or south. We waited. My friend started clapping and running about. It was freezing but I was too embarrassed to run about, though there was no-one else besides the two of us on the river. I chose to walk briskly instead. Eventually, the cold got to me and the pain was also exquisite. Despite wearing three pairs of gloves, and clothing and even a face mask and woollen caps, there was a sharp pain in my bones.

After an hour and a half, we couldn’t hold on anymore, we decided to return to the cabin and have a brief rest and hot coffee. We went back and the cabin was really inviting. The tourists, a major part of whom were from the Far East that day, had left on ice hotel arranged guided tours for aurora sightseeing: going on snow mobile rides, having dinner over an open fire and waiting for the aurora.

We sat in a warm corner, had a quick sandwich and coffee and went back. And just in the horizon that I had predicted, we saw thin rays of green light shooting up. My friend was sceptical. She felt it was kids shining green torches at the sky on the eve of Christmas. I did not think so as the lights appeared at random over the entire horizon, some fading away quickly, some staying on for some time, moving a bit. The green was a rich, exotic colour to be the work of human hands. I was convinced this was the beginning of a beautiful display but even after half an hour, nothing further developed. Besides our endurance level had dropped. Where we were able to stay for nearly an hour and a half the first time, we were finding it difficult to cope with half an hour. After 45 minutes in the freezing cold, we returned to our comfort zone. There were fewer people now. In one corner, a wood fire had been set ablaze, glogg and peppar kakor for the visitors was set on a low table. Christmas music was in the air. We decided to try some of the traditional Swedish Christmas drink of mixed spices and wine and the ginger cookies. This time our break extended to an hour simply because it felt good to be sitting by the fire, enjoying a spicy, warming drink.

We checked at the reception desk to see if those who had gone out on the tour had experienced the aurora but they were not able to help us, as they had no phone contact with their guides. Instead, they offered us their update from the Kiruna space station on the plausibility of citing the aurora that day. It was 90%. Precisely the reason why I had chosen that particular weekend to come up north. We went back, confident and refreshed. We were determined that we would not return until we had seen the aurora.

We went back to our aurora watch and scanned the skies. Neither of us would admit being cold. Nor would we admit that thick clouds had progressed and covered a large part of the sky. The sky in the direction of the hills still had comparatively fewer clouds. We were determined. Nature is neither moved by determination nor will nor by the statistical predictions of a space station. Therefore, despite waiting past midnight, we did not see any aurora display only the development of a dull orangish glow of thick clouds. I had to admit to myself that we were simply not going to see the aurora that night. After holding on stubbornly for some more time in vain hope, we both trudged back to our pit stop. A niggling feeling was in my mind that we might have missed the aurora during our extended break over the glogg and fire. Anyway, we asked the reception desk to call a cab to take us back to town and we waited, a little dejected and sullen.