Holidays for us are usually little days here and there; a few nights of camping, a walk around a historical garden, a stopover with grandchildren. This year Mr began to receive his pension, so we saved up the money and launched into a full week in Tromso, Northern Norway.
We last went abroad in 2009: luckily we had help with organising the trip because the choice was overwhelming (should you be based in the UK, Adventure With Me Abbey Lee is a fledgling small business; please support).
We picked Tromso because Mr has always wished to see the Aurora Borealis, somewhere snowy. There is no guarantee to see it, of course, wherever you go. Nature is under no obligation. Still, we would be gathering memories, we would know that we tried. Also, back in March, we lost someone precious to us- so this quest of ours was powered by honouring a commitment to the joyfulness of life.
We picked Tromso because Mr has always wished to see the Aurora Borealis, somewhere snowy. There is no guarantee to see it, of course, wherever you go. Nature is under no obligation. Still, we would be gathering memories, we would know that we tried. Also, back in March, we lost someone precious to us- so this quest of ours was powered by honouring a commitment to the joyfulness of life.
Here is how our Northern Lights Chase went:
As I type this, we are on a minibus heading out on a Northern Lights tour. We are away from all the pretty town lights, heading through snow, following reports of clear sky.
And as I type this, we are back on the bus, full of celestial magic.
It started slow, faint, almost a disappointment.
We had a fire, coffee, hot dogs, marshmallows, stories.
We were people from France, Australia, Singapore, New York, Norway (Martine, our driver), and Cornwall.
While we chattered, a bridge of light crossed the sky, curved like a rib bone, a luminous link to other worlds.
To the eye it is in artistic black and white, on camera it glows colour.
All of it- the stars, the deep snow, the weighted firs, the quiet, the aurora borealis- it is magic. It lit my heart and soul. And that was before we were eating doughnuts around the campfire while Margaux, our French guide, was recounting a Disney film plot where the Aurora is the souls of those we have lost and I saw a shooting star streak through the Lights…
It was minus 10 °C, so sneaking up the track to do a wee before getting back onto our bus, into the packed snow (like dropping lava), was also part of this night's enchantment.'
I share this on the 21st December, the Longest Night, to let you know that magic is possible: the sky can dance light, love watches over you, and even yellow snow can be a scene of wonder.
Happy Midwinter, wherever you are.
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