Anu’s Soul-Stirring Journey Through Sweden
I had always dreamt of seeing the Northern Lights. It was an image etched in my mind - a vast and inky sky, swirling ribbons of green and purple dancing across the horizon. But life has a way of making you put dreams on a shelf, to be admired but never touched. Until one day, I decided that was enough.
So, there I was, stepping onto the frozen lands of Swedish Lapland, with my breath curling into the icy air. The snow-laden trees stood like frozen sentinels, and the sea itself had turned to ice. Even the small wooden cabin, situated in the stillness of the Luleå archipelago, looked straight out of a fairytale.
That night, after a warm dinner in the main lodge, I wrapped myself in layers and stepped outside. "Maybe tonight," I whispered to myself, hoping for a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis. But the lights remained unmoved. Instead, I breathed in the silence, with the sheer vastness of it all. It was a kind of peace I had not known I needed.
Running with the Huskies and Dining on Ice
The next morning, I woke up to a sky dusted in the soft hues of dawn. Today was the husky safari, and my excitement bubbled like a child’s. At the kennels, the air was filled with the eager yips and howls of huskies ready to run.
"You are going to love this," said Erik, our guide, as he helped me onto the sledge. "Just hold on and let them lead."
And boy how well they did! The moment the sledge loosened, the huskies took off like arrows, with their boundless energy slicing through the fresh morning air. I laughed, the wind whipping against my face, feeling something I had not in a long time.
After the ride, I spent my afternoon at the lodge, where I sipped hot lingonberry juice and watched the frozen landscape stretch endlessly before me. As the sun dipped below the horizon, I layered up for dinner.
The dining setup was a teepee on the frozen ice pack and a roaring fire flickered at the centre. The cold bit at my skin, but the warmth of the fire and the healthy Swedish meal, of reindeer stew, smoked fish, and potatoes, made up for it. And then, as if on queue, the sky came alive.
Gasps filled the air as streaks of emerald and violet expanded like silk ribbons above us. I held my breath as my eyes were wide with wonder. There they were - the Northern Lights, shifting and shimmering in a celestial dance. I forgot the cold - forgot everything except this moment.
"I cannot believe this," I murmured.
Erik smiled. "Believe it. This is Swedish Lapland at its finest."
A Journey Through Frozen Wilderness
The next few days felt like stepping into a Nordic saga. One evening, I strapped on snowshoes and trekked deep into the untouched wilderness. The sound of my own breath and the crunch of snow beneath my feet were the only things that existed. We stopped at a clearing, where a fire crackled warmly. And, over dinner cooked in the open air, when our guide shared tales of the land, of the Sámi people, and of the spirits that, legend says, dance in the Northern Lights.
From there, my journey took me further into the heart of Lapland. A scenic train ride carried me past vast white forests, tiny villages with rooftops buried in snow, and frozen rivers stretching to the horizon. As I arrived in Kiruna and checked into Camp Ripan, I rewarded myself with a visit to the Aurora Spa.
The next morning, I continued my train journey towards Abisko National Park, home to some of the clearest skies in the world for viewing the Aurora. The scenery on the way was filled with snow-draped peaks that stood like giants against the horizon and frozen lakes mirrored the sky.
At the Abisko Mountain Lodge, I met an expert Aurora photographer who guided me into the wild. Armed with a camera, I stood beneath the cosmic display, trying to capture its magic. But no photograph could ever do justice to the raw and humbling beauty of those lights.
Sleeping in a Palace of Ice
On my last day, I made my way south, stopping first at Nutti Sámi Siida. Walking through the exhibit, I learned of the deep connection of indigenous Sámi people to nature, their traditions, and their resilience in this harsh yet beautiful land.
And then came the grand finale - the Ice Hotel. The moment I stepped inside, I felt like I had walked into a dream. Every wall, every sculpture, even the bed was made of ice, glowing softly under ambient lights. I ran my fingers over the intricate carvings and marvelled at the artistry.
"You will sleep warm," the receptionist reassured me as I received my thermal sleeping bag. "Just trust the layers."
That night, cocooned in my sleeping bag on top of a bed of ice, I thought about this journey. About the huskies that ran wild and free, the warmth of fire on frozen lakes, and the stories whispered in the glow of the Northern Lights. About how, for the first time in a long time, I had felt small in the best possible way - not insignificant, but part of something greater.
Read More: Thrillophilia Sweden Reviews