“Did you see the northern lights?”
I got this question a lot when I returned from cruising up the coast of Norway in July.
No, I did not. When the midnight sun is shining, it doesn’t leave a lot of darkness for the aurora borealis to shine.
Even with no northern lights, Arctic Norway has a lot to offer in summer: late-night “sunsets” where the ever-illuminated sky goes deep pink but never darkens, mountain hikes, reindeer, vacationing huskies, scenic twisty drives, waterfalls and — if you’re brave — a dip in a bracing northern fjord.
Many, of course, prefer to visit in winter, chasing those magical northern lights, but also to mush sled dogs and experience the Arctic at its most intense.
Some northern delights, even the opportunity to sleep in an ice hotel, are available year round.
So when does Norway shine brightest? Summer or winter? It’s all in your point of view — and in your tolerance for cold.
Land of the Midnight Sun
It was the middle of the night, but the deck was crowded — and not for nothing. As our captain expertly guided the Havila Castor — a cross between a cruise ship and ferry — into the narrow inlet known as Trollfjord, dozens of passengers seemed to hold their breath. The ship itself was silent, having switched to electric power. Under a misty sky, the green water reflected the waterfall-veined rocks rising up from the fjord on either side of us. The water churning behind the ship was so turquoise, we could have been at Disneyland.
But this was no amusement park ride. Our captain faced a serious challenge: Another ship had parked itself in the fjord and showed no sign of giving way. Now that he had committed to going in, the captain would have to execute a perfect Y-turn to exit without a collision.
Sailing into stunning Trollfjord was a highlight of our six-day cruise from Bergen up to Kirkenes, a trip that covers most of Norway’s coastline and finishes near the Russian border. But it was also representative of the whole trip. Every night, we stayed up late, hating to close our eyes when there were always more rustic hamlets, islands and mountains to see in the eternal sunlight. One early morning, I crept out of our cabin to lay eyes on the stretch of coastline nearest to my great-grandparents’ natal villages. A single blonde employee, wearing earbuds, vacuumed the Havblikk Bar & Lounge as the Castor pulled into the port of Nesna, where my great-grandfather would have started his journey to America. The bright sunlight makes the town’s few pencil-straight roads look particularly lonely, sitting empty in front of a thickly wooded mountain.
Land of snow play
We adored being in northern Norway in summer, when the days never ended and the weather was temperate enough to lounge on the Castor’s deck and stroll through the ports. Even north of the Arctic Circle, sometimes the weather was fine enough for short sleeves.
But when we disembarked at the end of the line on Norway’s northern coast, the town of Kirkenes, we began to appreciate that it might be fun to return in January.
We visited Snowhotel Kirkenes, an amiable tourist complex that offers a smorgasbord of the North: In high season (December to March), we could have ridden a dog sled — they even offer an hour-long “husky taxi” from the airport to the Snowhotel. We could have snowmobiled onto the fjord to ice fish for crab. We could have engaged in “snow yoga.” And of course, the star attraction of winter in the north: We might have seen a colorful glow frolic across the sky from one of the Snowhotel’s Gamme Northern Lights Cabins, built with large windows to let guests stay warm while watching the skies. On a stop before Kirkenes, Havila passengers also get the chance to ride reindeer-drawn sleighs in the snowy season.
We only just missed the snow; our guide, Dirk Langer, reported that 8 inches had blanketed the ground in June. But arriving at the Snowhotel on a warm sunny day wasn’t so bad. I got to feed lichen to a sweet, shy reindeer, and meet a litter of half-grown sled dogs, who sat obediently at my approach, but then mischievously nibbled at my shoelaces. Visiting with tourists is part of their training. Langer introduced me to his favorite dog, Unna, who lounged on top of her doghouse, soaking up sun.
In winter, Unna and the other dogs run about 15 miles a day.
“Summertime for the dogs, it’s actually vacation time,” Langer said. Most are not purebred Siberian huskies, but rather a mishmash of shepherd and other shaggy-haired breeds.
On cooler summer days, you can sign up to take a leashed “husky” on a mountain hike. In early fall, tourists sometimes get the chance to ride behind a musher on a wheeled training sled — if it’s not too warm out.
Believe it or not, the star summer attraction available here is the same as the star winter attraction: sleeping on a bed of snow and ice inside the Snowhotel. Until 2019, the company rebuilt their frozen auberge from scratch each fall — a massive undertaking that required many kilos of manufactured snow. But now, they keep the hotel going all year, in a climate-controlled structure that looks like a plastic igloo.
When we stepped through the heavy door, wearing boots with spikes on the snow floors, you could swear that the Arctic winter had descended.
The first room in the Snowhotel is the ice bar, where frozen cocktail tables are lit from within, and a giant snow sculpture of a reindeer head looks on. From there, we toured the guest rooms, each with a theme, but all with the same basics: a frozen slab for a bed, with a mattress and reindeer skin on top. Guests are issued thermal underwear, balaclavas and sleeping bags, and advised not to drink too much before bedtime — lest they have to emerge from their cocoons to use the facilities.
Is braving the Arctic winter worth it?
For many passengers on the Havila Voyages cruise line — or its longer-running competitor, cruise line Hurtigruten — seeing the northern lights is a lifelong dream that makes the timing a no brainer. Both companies guarantee to make this dream come true: If you get through a wintertime cruise with nary a flicker, they’ll take you out again, for free.
But venturing north of the Arctic Circle in winter is not for wimps. It’s not for nothing that Hurtigruten recommends winter travelers pack a thick coat, wool sweater, boots and even pull-on spikes. Then there’s the polar night. North of the Arctic circle, the sun will set in late November and stay gone until late January. It won’t be so black outside that you can’t see the scenery, but you won’t be getting a tan — even if you were brave enough to bare any skin. Then there are winter storms that sometimes cancel sailings or force ships to reroute.
Given all that, I felt satisfied with my choice to visit the top of Europe by summer. That feeling was cemented on the very last night of our trip, when we overnighted in Oslo before our return flights to the United States.
We found Oslo basking in the edge of a heat wave that had broiled the rest of Europe. But here in the North Country, no one was complaining. Revelers splashed into Oslofjord from walkways, from sauna boats, from bridges. In the shadow of the Oslo Opera House, I waded into the Sørenga Seawater Pool, delighting in the cool water on my calves.
After dinner and bidding my traveling companions goodnight, I headed back out into the city, still bright as day at 9 p.m. I walked past late-night diners and drinkers enjoying one sidewalk cafe after another. When you live in Scandinavia, you make the most of summer nights.
Around 10 p.m., I came upon the royal palace, and watched with amusement as a liveried guard stalked back and forth, with no one to observe his duties but me. Then I continued north through some grand residential neighborhoods, the city quieting and dimming but not fully darkening.
Finally, by 11 p.m., I arrived at Frogner Park, where 200 sculptures by artist Gustav Vigeland showed off under the nearly midnight sun. Walking through mostly empty streets for miles, I had been a little worried the park would be deserted and creepy upon my arrival.
Instead, I joined a crowd of tourists and locals, including families with small kids, strolling and admiring the sculptures. In the prolonged golden hour light, I took my time crossing the Bridge, taking in the 58 bronze sculptures of men, women and children.
Winter visitors say the light is pretty then too, a sort of all-day twilight that I’m sure would be a treat to see. But when I return to Norway — next time to explore by land rather than sea — I’ll again choose summer, or early fall. Maybe it’s because I grew up with a surfeit of ice and snow, my Norwegian ancestors having settled in Wisconsin. Maybe it’s just because I’m an indefatigable traveler who revels in extra daylight hours to explore. Whatever the reason, for me, the midnight sun trumps the northern lights.
What to Wear for a Cruise Up the Coast of Norway
Expanded from long-established freight and ferry lines, Havila and Hurtigruten cruises are anything but fancy. Dress for comfort.
Summer
Base layer: Long pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
In case it gets cold: A wool sweater or fleece.
In case it rains: Raincoat and waterproof hiking boots.
Believe it or not: A light wool cap and gloves. (We debated over bringing these, but in the end, at least some of us appreciated wearing them on deck during blustery days.)
Winter
Base layer: Thermal underwear
Outer layer: Long pants and long sleeved shirt
Next layer: Wool sweater or fleece
Next layer: Warm coat
Definitely: A warm hat or balaclava, mittens and snow boots.
If you worry about falling on ice: Pull-on spikes
