In a world that rarely quiets, the Arctic is a place where stillness reigns—and where silence speaks. It is not an empty silence, but one that holds stories in the wind, in the snow, in the breath of a reindeer herd, or the crackle of ice underfoot. This is not a destination for the hurried. It is for the curious, the patient, and those who believe that wonder doesn't shout, but whispers.

Our Arctic adventure with Delta of Scandinavia was a journey on land, not sea. Sandra, our exceptional and amazing tour leader and guide, met us in Tromso. We traveled north of the Arctic Circle into the Lapland region, where indigenous Sámi culture thrives and the aurora dances above snow-covered landscapes. It was here, far from highways and headlines, that I began to feel time shift.

Every step was a reminder that nature sets the pace. There are no shortcuts to the Northern Lights. You wait. You watch. And when they come, the sky opens in streaks of green, purple, and gold—no performance, no curtain call. Just awe.

For travelers concerned with age or mobility, this journey is one of flexibility and intention. Our tailor-picked local guides customize experiences for a range of abilities. And yes, it's cold. But with the right gear and our expert planning, the cold becomes part of the memory. It sharpens the senses, focuses the mind. There is no background noise in the Arctic. There is just now.

Some may wonder what it means to be in a place in time where the sun does not rise. I visited that place in January, just before the sun was due to return on January 21, 2025. It's a strange feeling to watch the clock strike 8:00 a.m. and see only pitch-black skies—daylight, when it comes, lingers only briefly, a dim blue glow in the late morning and early afternoon, as the sun flirts with the horizon in preparation for its yearly debut.

I left Miami and, after a long journey, my last leg flew me through a star-studded dark sky with the stars so close I felt like I could almost reach out and touch one-a funny notion and magical too. The woman next to me was Japanese and worked in Svalbard studying Artic birds, of which she told me about many of their migrating patterns. The one bird that fascinated me the most was the Arctic tern. I had seen it during my expedition voyage to Antarctica and now next to me was a person who told me of their long journey from the Arctic to Antarctica where they spend the summer before returning home. Suddenly the stars faded, and the dark sky turned white with snow. I landed on a small prop plane in a snowstorm in Tromsø, Norway. The winds were high and so was the snow.

Tromsø, often called the "Gateway to the Arctic," is nestled on a fjord surrounded by snow-covered peaks and is one of the northernmost cities in the world. You’ll find it above the Arctic Circle in the heart of Norway’s rugged north—here’s where it is on Google Maps.

There aren’t many taxis when the snow is falling sideways, so securing transportation in advance is essential. I was grateful for my planning. Once settled, I ventured out in search of nourishment and warmth and found it—next door, by a cackling fireplace, with a hot bowl of local fish soup and a glass of wine. There’s something magical about a snow-blanketed city where twinkling lights shimmer day and night. As I walked, I noticed it was just me and my footprints—and then, more snow. Quiet. Beautiful. Special. After returning to the hotel, I fell asleep not knowing—nor ever imagining—the wonder that would unfold in the days ahead.

Though I began this journey alone, the next day I joined a small group guided by an excellent local tour company with a large footprint in Nordic countries and equally large palette of Nordic experiences. With our driver and guide, we began our exploration over the next 10 days, carving a slow, meaningful path through Arctic.

For the explorer at heart, Tromsø offers a gem: a small hut-like museum dedicated to Roald Amundsen, the great polar explorer. It may be one of the best places to visit in the city, especially for those with a sense of adventure.

After two days, we traveled north, deeper into the Arctic and Lapland (a region that spans northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia’s Kola Peninsula—home to the Sámi people and some of Europe’s last wilderness. Along the way, I tried reindeer stew for the first time. Admittedly, I hesitated—Rudolph loomed large in my childhood—but as I learned throughout the week, Arctic cuisine is both hearty and delicious.

We arrived at a hotel surrounded by snowdrifts. Inside was warmth, coziness, and views that took my breath away. I fell asleep under a warm down comforter imagining a reindeer peering through the window or the aurora whispering across the sky.

The next morning, still dark, we suited up in thermal gear for a snowmobile trek across a frozen lake to the place where Finland, Sweden, and Norway meet. After making snow angels and warming our hands with a hot cup of Arctic berry juice, we set out to make our return noting a shift in weather. It was my turn to take the wheel—wishing only for windshield wipers on my helmet’s shield as the whiteout blurred the horizon into a seamless sheet of snow and sky. It was exhilarating on every level.

Later that day, we experienced reindeer and the Sámi culture in our visit to a Sámi farm, where we met one of the Sámi leaders and reindeer herder. I was thrilled to see a real reindeer for the first time—but when I met "my" reindeer, that joy turned to elation. I felt a surge of childhood memories of Christmas stories and movies of Santa and his reindeers flooding me. I just wanted to stay longer. As we parted, I turned for one final good-bye and there stood the ost beautiful reindeer looking back at me beneath the full moon.

We continued our journey to the Northern Lights Village.

Our driver was brilliantly adept to handle the ever-changing weather conditions. When we arrived, a fellow traveler generously loaded my luggage on to a sleigh. It had been several days of chasing the lights, and on this evening, shortly after 10:00 p.m., I stood in sub-zero temperatures watching the aurora dance. I barely noticed the cold. It felt as though the lights were chasing me, or I them. I didn’t want it to end. That vision lives in me now, waiting until we meet again.
A few hours of sleep later—beneath a ceiling of glass windows to the sky—I awoke before dawn, pulled on my thermal gear, and went dog sledding with the huskies. After learning to steer, we glided across the white tundra. Rounding a bend, I glimpsed the rising sun on the horizon, sighed and was grateful beyond words.

On the road again, we crossed back into Swedish Lapland and stayed in a historic and welcoming hotel filled with antique memorabilia of bygone days when the rooms were filled with wealthy Nordic and Russian fur traders. A group of us went on the chase and found the Northern Lights. Others caught glimpses from their hotel windows.

In the morning, geared up for an icebreaker experience, we traveled to the Bothnian Sea, the northernmost arm of the Baltic Sea and boarded the Polar Explorer. It was a cold, cold morning. Dressing properly matters. We set off through the ice with the sun greeting us on the horizon. In the middle of the sea, we stepped of the ship onto the ice. There was no path, no trail--only ice—and the steady drum of my heartbeat rising into the vast, breathless quiet. Back aboard, while others sipped hot chocolate below deck, I stepped to the bow, arms outstretched in a "Titanic" moment—freezing and free in equal measure.

Later, it was my turn, I donned an orange “lobster” flotation suit and stepped into a hole made in the icy sea. Floating there, I was surprised by the sounds: crackling, splitting, creaking—an underwater symphony from the ice below, while above, silence. It was beautiful. And it brought tears to my eyes as the golden sun began its short arc across the sky.

That night, we shared a final meal at the Haparanda Stadshotell with its gracious host, who told stories of the town’s rich and magical past. It’s not to be missed.

On our last day, we made our way to Rovaniemi—the capital of Finnish Lapland and home to Santa Claus. At the Santa Claus Village, I met Santa, and I whispered my wish for “Peace on Earth.” He laughed heartily, telling me it was a tall order—but not impossible.

We closed our journey with dinner at the Snow Hotel in Finland, where the brave can sleep on beds of ice beneath reindeer hides in thermal sleeping bags. The hotel disappears every summer to be rebuilt and redesigned with compacted ice. Every room is a marvel to behold. For those who choose to dare, they’re sure to carry a badge of quiet wonder that few will ever earn for having slept in the heart of winter itself.

Sometimes, it's not easy to imagine the unknown—especially when it lies beyond our comfort zone. But I can assure you: this journey is unforgettable, meant for the curious traveler, for those seeking wonder and adventure either with loved ones or a group of friends. And when you're ready to chase silence, I’d be honored to help you take that first step into the extraordinary Arctic.

Chase silence. And let it catch you.

Arctic Travel Tips for Beginners: Embrace the Cold, Find the Wonder

So, you're thinking of heading to the Arctic? Maybe you’ve seen the Northern Lights on Instagram or heard whispers of dog sledding across frozen lakes. Whatever calls you north, let me assure you: the Arctic is more than a bucket-list destination. It’s an awakening. But for first-timers, preparation makes all the difference. Here are my top tips to help you chase silence, embrace the cold, and journey with confidence.

1. Dress for the Elements, Not the Look

In the Arctic, fashion takes a back seat to function. Invest in (or borrow/rent) high-quality cold-weather gear. That means:

Insulated, waterproof boots
Wool or thermal socks (avoid cotton)
Base layers (merino wool is gold)
Fleece or down mid-layers
Windproof and waterproof outer shell
Balaclava or neck gaiter, gloves, glove liners, and a hat that covers your ears

Tip: Many Arctic hotels and tour companies offer gear rentals, so you don’t have to buy everything.

2. Bring the Right Extras

Beyond clothing, pack smart:

Headlamp or flashlight (especially in polar night)
Hand and foot warmers
Lip balm and heavy-duty moisturizer
Sunglasses (yes, even in winter—snow glare is real)
Reusable water bottle (hydration helps your body regulate heat)
Power bank (batteries drain faster in the cold)

3. It’s Not Always Light—or Dark

Depending on the time of year, you’ll either experience Polar Night (no sunrise) or Midnight Sun (no sunset). Both are magical. In winter, daylight might last only a few twilight hours—plan your outdoor adventures accordingly. Embrace the darkness. It makes the light show that much more magical.

4. Prepare to Disconnect

Wi-Fi can be limited, and cell service isn’t guaranteed in remote areas. That’s part of the point. Download offline maps, carry printed travel docs, and let someone know your itinerary. Then, give yourself permission to be fully present in the moment.

5. Respect Local Cultures

The Arctic is home to Indigenous communities like the Sámi, who have lived in harmony with this landscape for centuries. Learn about their traditions. Support Sámi-owned businesses. And remember, reindeer are more than Rudolph—they’re central to Arctic livelihoods and identity.

6. Be Open to the Unexpected

You might not see the Northern Lights every night. Your snowmobile ride could get delayed by weather. But the Arctic has a way of rewarding the open-hearted traveler. Sometimes, wonder appears when you least expect it: in the quiet crunch of snow, the flicker of firelight, or the gaze of a reindeer.

7. Work with Trusted Tour Operators

Especially if you're new to Arctic travel, don’t go it alone. A knowledgeable guide can ensure your safety, enrich your experience, and take the stress out of logistics. Continents Unveiled can match you with the best operators with strong safety records, local expertise, and sustainable practices.

8. Capture the Moment—But Live It, Too

Yes, the Arctic is photogenic. But don’t spend your whole trip behind a lens. Step into the snow. Watch the sky dance. Let the silence wrap around you. Some memories don’t need a filter.

Final Thought: This Place Will Change You

The Arctic has a rhythm all its own. It’s not just cold—it’s clarifying. Not just remote—it’s deeply connective. If you let it, it will shift something in you. You’ll return not just with stories, but with stillness, strength, and maybe even a new sense of wonder.

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