Fingertips burning, I can barely hold my phone steady as Arctic wind whips daggers across my cheeks. My thermal vest has dislodged from the waistband of my trousers, exposing naked skin to the biting polar breeze. My nose is running, my toes are aching, and my neck has seized from gazing upwards into the blackness of the night sky.
And then, from the abyss, it appears: a white wisp swirling like script from a calligraphy pen. It twists and twirls in hypnotic dance, stretching this way and that until it spans the snowcapped horizon, bursting forth like a cosmic ballerina pirouetting across the stars.
There’s no time to wait. Amid the howl of huskies, we bundle into the van, our driver Mili expertly navigating the icy roads until we reach a desolate stretch overlooking a fjord. And there, in the subzero darkness of northern Norway, we are humbled by a solar substorm that has created a breathtaking display of the Northern Lights.
Tears spill down my face as we witness an ethereal kaleidoscope of green and pink billowing out below the moon. I know that it’s not, but it’s the closest thing to magic I’ve ever seen. As a polar princess once said, the cold never bothered me anyway.
A rocky start
I was in Kirkenes, a remote mining town ten minutes drive from the Russian border that was once occupied by Nazi Germany. I had been invited to chase the elusive aurora borealis on a cruise with Hurtigruten, and this was the final stop of the MS Nordkapp’s voyage from Trondheim to the Arctic Circle.
It had been anything but smooth sailing. Our expedition was thrown into chaos from the moment we landed in Oslo, where a storm of 65mph winds cancelled our connecting flight and the first two days of planned excursions.
Matters did not improve once we detoured to the ship. A powerful swell carried us along much of Norway’s west coast, with eight-metre waves churning like a washing machine. Bottles smashed; port stops were skipped; people vomited on their dinner plates.
We retreated to our cabins. ‘Keep one hand on the ship!’ came the announcement over the tannoy as the contents of my bathroom shelf crashed to the floor. Clinging to the bed like a koala, I willed away the nausea and stared through the porthole; an ominous slate sky offered little hope of even a fleeting glimpse of the Northern Lights. My first trip on a cruise ship was not going to plan.
It will come as a surprise, then, that this misfortune-plagued journey turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life. And even if we hadn’t been treated to a truly spectacular aurora on the final night, I think I would say the same.
The people’s cruise ship
Hurtigruten is a cruise with a difference. Unlike traditional liners, it started life as a post and cargo ferry carrying people between remote fishing villages in 1893.
Today, passengers are split between international tourists on 12-day packages and locals going about their daily business. You’re just as likely to see a German couple trying reindeer at Nordkapp’s fine dining restaurant as you are a businessman in a Helly Hansen windbreaker, sitting at the bar on his commute between Ornes and Tromso.
The staff are delightful and seem genuinely passionate about showing you the best of Norway. They’re charming, and not in a saccharine ‘have a nice day’ way. Most come from towns dotted along the coast, and many are from families who have worked on Hurtigruten ships for generations.
The food is exquisite and quintessentially Nordic, from Arctic char at the main restaurant, Torget, to brown cheese ice cream at Multe bakery (don’t knock it until you’ve tried it). Since 2015, the ship has also treated guests to Nidelven Bla, a strong Scandinavian blue repeatedly voted the world’s best cheese.
But the crowning glory of Hurtigruten’s culinary offering is Havets Bobler, the world’s first Arctic-aged sparkling wine matured in the depths of a fjord off the north Norwegian coast. The location is kept under lock and key; after fruitless probing, I sat back and enjoyed the fizz.
The Northern Lights promise
The past year has seen a surge of interest in the Northern Lights, driven by a solar maximum which causes the most frequent and impressive displays in more than a decade. These cycles take roughly 11 years, which means the best chance of seeing aurora is in the next 12 months — after that, you’ll be waiting until 2036.
This is, of course, huge news for the ‘noctourism’ industry and experts like astronomer Tom Kerss, Hurtigruten’s ‘chief aurora chaser’ who accompanies us on our voyage.
I ask Tom what he thinks is driving interest in the Northern Lights, aside from the bumper sightings the UK and much of Europe were treated to in May and October.
‘I think it’s been a perfect storm,’ he says. ‘The solar maximum definitely piqued people’s interest last year, but I think you’ve also still got that post-Covid afterglow of people looking for experiential travel, combined with Norway as a destination just being really huge right now.’
There’s that, for certain. Norwegian Air launched direct flights between London Gatwick and Harstad-Narvik Airport in Evenes in the Arctic Circle just in time for the peak winter season last year. Lofoten, a stunning chain of islands that offers the Northern Lights in the winter and midnight sun in summer, saw a 15% uptick in visitors from 2022 to 2023.
But I also suspect there’s something in the otherworldliness of the Lights, when our own world feels so bleak.
‘They’re very visual,’ says Tom. ‘Most travel trends are driven by Instagram, and what could be more visually arresting than a bunch of aurora photos?’
The nature of the Northern Lights also means no two photos are ever the same. Each is unique, a rarity in an increasingly oversaturated content space.
‘If you go to a mountain range in Hawaii, or go to see the [hot air] balloons in Cappadocia, everyone’s taking photos of essentially the same thing,’ says Tom.
‘But with aurora, you’re kind of taking a gamble. You might get the most breathtaking image nobody else ever gets. The Northern Lights have a unique promise, and the promise is that you never know when the best display of your life is going to be. You only know that you don’t want to miss it.’
I tell Tom he should consider a career in PR for his nod to Hurtigruten’s corporate promise, which gives anyone who does not see the Northern Lights on a 12-day voyage another seven-day trip, free of charge.
It’s an attractive pledge. Despite nights spent scouring the sky from the deck of the Nordkapp, it’s not until we are on land in Kirkenes on the final night that we see ‘Lady Aurora’ in all her glory.
From frozen pizza to fine dining
In recent years, the cruise industry has faced a reputational reckoning.
Residents around the world have been rising up against what they see as a scourge on their communities. They fear the floating behemoths pollute their water, damage their local economy and flood their towns with overwhelming crowds.
Destinations such as Amsterdam and Venice have banned cruise ships from anchoring in their historic centres, while Spanish hotspots like Palma have rolled out restrictions.
In Tromso, the Arctic capital on the frontline of northern Norway’s tourism boom, I ask locals how they feel about a rise in cruise passengers.
From shopkeepers, bartenders and tour guides, the answer is resoundingly the same: Hurtigruten is always welcome, other cruise ships are not.
‘Hurtigruten is the lifeblood of our business and so many others,’ says Milivoj Krzanic, head of international sales at the Snow Hotel in Kirkenes.
‘Thirty years ago, guests on the ships were eating frozen pizza, now it’s fine dining. But it will never become a Disneyland cruise, it will always be a postal ship at heart.’
Gambling for magic
Storms and seasickness cast a shadow over the start of our voyage, but if all we had experienced were those 20 minutes of Northern Lights magic, I would have left wishing to go back.
And we saw so much more than that. I would barely be scratching the surface if I told you about the cliffs at Europe’s most northerly point; the Arctic cathedral in Tromso; the king crab safari and songs from the indigenous Sami community that could draw tears from a stone.
This is a place for people with adventure in their hearts. It’s unpredictable, with mercurial weather and the kind of extremes you only find on the frontline of human existence.
But if you’re willing to gamble, you might be rewarded with something that feels like magic.
Alice Murphy was a guest of Hurtigruten, on a condensed version of the 12-day Astronomy Voyage from Bergen – Kirkenes – Bergen.
Prices start from £2,675 per person based on two guests sharing a Polar Outside Cabin, inclusive of international flights, full board dining, exclusive astronomy lectures and Wi-Fi.
Flights operate from London Gatwick and return from Bergen, Norway. Optional excursions and drinks packages available.
