An adventure to the Arctic that I’ll never forget...

I recently got an opportunity to do something that I never thought I’d get—a week-long expedition deep into Northern Finland’s Arctic region. And what an experience it was.??

I must say I certainly had mixed feelings as the date approached for departure. It was a weird combination of anticipation, nerves, and mild rushes of adrenaline when the thought of the trip popped into my head the more closely the day came to leave. And so I went, heading off to Heathrow with two large bags containing all the kit I was advised to bring (most of which I had to buy the week before at an outdoors shop in Bicester) early in the morning to meet the two expedition leaders, Matt and Josh (two guys with individually fascinating backstories that I’ll be sharing more about in another article), and the class group from a nearby secondary school in London that I’d be accompanying on the trip.????

We had a quick stop off in Helsinki airport as we waited for a connecting flight up to our final destination of Ivalo, Finland’s northernmost airport. The views as we approached were absolutely staggering; clear blue, sun-drenched skies, illuminating sheets of white pristine snow and ice stretched out below us, with the faint outline of mountains and hills in the distance. We really are going to the bloody Arctic! I thought, as the plane started its descent and the reality of it all started to hit home.??

After landing in Ivalo—a simple but very efficient little airport with one large hanger and two small baggage carousels—we waited for all our gear to arrive (some of which was larger than the students themselves) and loaded it all onto a nearby coach that was waiting for us as right outside the large sliding exit doors. 45 minutes later, after winding our way through freshly cleared roads flanked by snow covered embankments with a thin orange hue lighting up the horizon as the sun went down, we arrived at the little village of Tankavarra, where we were to spend the next six days of our lives. The feeling of utter remoteness hit me at this point.??

A quick bit of history—Tankavarra was founded in the early 1900’s by the Sami people, who were the descendants of nomadic groups that inhabited large parts of northern Scandinavia for thousands of years. During the winter months Tankavarra is a quiet, sleepy little place where tourists can, if they’re lucky, view the northern lights and explore the snow-laden national park trails that stretch out for miles around the area, and during the summer months, it’s a gold panning hotspot. After several gold rushes in the early 19th century, and subsequent decline in the mid 20th century, Tankavaara has played quite a significant role in promoting gold-related tourism in the region.??

With one small, very charmingly rustic restaurant (reminiscent of an old Western movie set) and three all-year-round inhabitants, our arrival certainly livened things up a bit.??

The accommodation was also very cozy, and exactly how you’d imagine it—a thick-walled log cabin, about 30 seconds walk from the restaurant, prepared and ready for our arrival, and the students were also paired up in similar style cabins nearby.???

After packing all our stuff away, we rejoined at the restaurant (our meeting point every morning and dinner time) and went to do an orientation session led by Matt and Josh. We all trudged down to the end of the road which was the entrance to the village, covered from head to toe in all our brand-new gear, and my main takeaway was—“If you get lost, pick up your compass and walk West. You’ll eventually hit this road (firmly pointing to said road that leads all the way to Helsinki), and someone will pick you up...”. I never thought my life would be reliant on a ￡10 plastic compass from Cotswold Outdoor, but hey, that’s what they were made for right???

The whole week feels somewhat of a blur now looking back on it a few months later, but there were a number of absolute highlight moments that I will simply never forget. Also, seeing a group of students, some of which were not particularly well travelled, shy, and some even bemused as to why they were there in the first place, come alive over the course of the week and really test themselves in every way, was inspiring to see.??

The days were broadly structured with an early meet-up at the restaurant (normally around 7.30am-ish), a hearty breakfast of locally made bread, cheeses and porridge prepared by a stoic local chef with little English, but a knowing smile, and a quick debrief from Matt as to what the day held in store for us.???

A typical day went something like -?

6.30am: Wake up?

7am: Breakfast in restaurant??

8am: Meet at gold museum in preparation for the day?

9am-5pm: Expedition or main activity??

6pm-7pm: Personal development booklet work back at the gold museum??

7.30pm-8pm: Dinner at the restaurant?

8.30pm: Bed?

At 8:30am we’d all then meet at the gold museum located about 5 minutes' walk up the road, ready for the day, which was also where each evening’s reflective personal development sessions were held.??

These daily personal reflective sessions gave the whole experience a really valuable learning arc, and was a chance for the students to reflect on what they had done that day, their broader reflections/any concerns, and how it fit into their specific goal that they had written down prior to leaving for the trip, that they wanted to achieve. This goal was something that was meant to challenge them, and was personal to their specific character traits and areas they wanted to develop further.??

For example, one student's goal was to help clear up every plate and cup after breakfast and dinner, daily, for the whole group—a goal that modelled how to be in service to others. An overarching theme I would come to learn, that was prevalent throughout the whole experience.??

If you're interested in learning more about how this self-reflective learning element was designed and structured, please drop me a DM, comment, or email me at [email protected] to request a free PDF example booklet. ?

I was really impressed at how carefully designed this element of the experience was for the students, as I’m sure it would be all too easy to give them free reign and just let them all have every evening off to invariably sit on their phones in their rooms. This made them constantly think about what they were learning from the whole experience, however incremental and small these learnings were in the moment. It was also a valuable guide for Matt & Josh to see which students had gotten the most out of the trip.????

Having this sort of self-discipline I learnt, was also incredibly important in such a potentially hostile and harsh environment too—we always felt safe, but one wrong turn, or not listening carefully to Matt and Josh’s instructions before, during and after each activity or expedition could certainly get you into trouble very quickly. This was not a place you wanted to mess around with and test the boundaries of, especially as a relatively inexperienced group, used to the creature comforts that life brings back in the UK.??

Self-discipline and respect for your fellow human was also modelled strongly within the local community. There’s an old adage in the region that you never turn up late to meeting someone—if you leave someone out in the cold (sometimes reaching –20+ in the winter months) for longer than needed, it is hugely disrespectful, if not potentially dangerous, so punctuality is of utmost importance.??

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The majority of our days were taken up with one main activity. The first of which was a winding two-hour cross country skiing/snowshoe walk (depending on how comfortable you were with each) up to a nearby mountain peak. Upon reaching the top, we could see Russia in the distance on one side, and Sweden on the other. Truly stunning panoramic views. Along the way, Matt would stop and point to indentations in the snow and ask us what we thought they were. Deer? A rabbit? A BEAR?! These particular prints were in a perfect line, zigzagging in the snow, which I also thought looked a bit like a snake, but it was in fact an elusive Arctic fox. The prints appear in a straight line, Matt explained,?as their back feet perfectly overlap with where their front feet were in the previous step.??

These nuggets of survival wisdom and expedition knowledge were casually dropped throughout the trip. On another day we went husky dog sledding, hurtling through the trees and open snow plains, with five highly trained animals whose sole mission was to run. And keep on running. We learnt that if the leader at the front, who also trained the animals, didn’t tell them to stop, they could run for about three days straight without a break. One can only imagine what humans could achieve if we all had such focus and one-track mindedness. On the penultimate day, completely by chance, the village was host to a national dog sledding competition, which was awesome to see. It really was another world—hordes of people descended upon Tankavarra that day, with their trusty teams of three to five dogs per sled, barking filling the air, as their riders (or ‘mushers’) paced, prepping themselves with hardened focus etched into their faces. ?

The power of these finely tuned racing beasts was staggering. The riders could barely control them on the starting line as their excitement and drive to run was already dragging the sled forwards, scratching the snow as the brakes where being stood on with ever more force—the breaks on a dog sled are essentially two large spikes that the rider has to lean on with both feet with all his might; if you take your feet off the breaks, those dogs won’t stop running until they a) completely run out of steam, or b) hit something.?

Another day was spent digging snow caves, that the students would then spend a night sleeping in—a real lesson in teamwork, and what you would have to do for shelter if you found yourself lost and alone in the Arctic wilderness. The key we learnt to this particular technique was to dig straight for two or three feet, then up at an angle so you created a flat surface that was slightly elevated from the entrance. This kept the space nice and insulated, and surprisingly warm through the night. The final touch was to punch a small hole through the roof to ensure suitable breathing air.?

On another day we also learnt what to do if a member of your group got injured while out in such remote environments and couldn’t get themselves down to safety—techniques involving wrapping them up in a sleeping bag, strapping them into a gurney and carefully pulling them down to safety, or medical help. I must admit, I would struggle (fall to the ground with my arms aloft to sky) if I was dropped in said conditions with an injured teammate at the time of writing this, but it was very interesting to go through the process all the same.?

I would however say that the expedition we did on the penultimate day was the one I most vividly remember due to the intensity and sheer length of the trip. Starting at the gold museum in the morning, we headed back out into the snow-covered woodland, and after about an hour and a half, we found ourselves on a vast stretch of snow and ice, that during the summer months is essentially swamp land, but now was covered in a thick layer of snow, two metres deep. If you hit a weak piece of unpacked snow, you could easily sink in up to your waist, so each step felt a bit of a gamble. At this point we laid down our gear, set out our little portable stoves and utensils for lunch and heated up the hearty reindeer soup we’d transported with us on the gurney. We were so hot from the trek, that some of us ate lunch in a t-shirt which felt very unnatural, until the cold caught up with us and we soon layered up again.??

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After finishing lunch, we cleaned our bowls in the snow, packed our gear away and started to make our way towards the faint grey outline of one of the tallest peaks in the area. It started off as a relatively gently incline at the base, winding our way through pine trees with perfectly formed spikes of ice hanging off them, some at least a foot long. The incline got steeper and steeper until the group had spread out quite a bit based on their varying speeds, abilities and whether they were wearing snow shoes or skis (skis were significantly harder!). I hung back, accompanying two other students that were somewhat struggling more than the others, on hand should they need more support. One of these students had chosen to use skis, and if it wasn’t hard enough, they also kept falling off as one of the clips had broken—the poor kid was really struggling.??

This particular student I’d noticed had been quite reserved and quiet the whole trip, and I was actually half expecting him to drop to the snow and refuse to move forwards. He in fact did the complete opposite—step by gruelling step. It was at this point that I really saw first-hand, how the weeklong experience had instilled a sense of resilience, inner confidence and determination that I don’t think they would have had, had something like this happen on the first day. Countless hours spent outside in freezing Arctic conditions, sleeping in self-built snow caves, and facing their fears being consitently so far outside their comfort zones in such alien and potentially treacherous environments had all culminated to the toughest of physical challenges so far. It had made them powerful.??

Eventually we all reached the summit, and were welcomed by 360 panoramic views of pristine Arctic tundra. Truly beautiful. One thing that never failed to stun me was the sheer lack of any noise. No cars, no hordes of people, no artificial lights, nothing... The silence was almost imposing, like being trapped in a soundproof room for too long.?

The descent—via a different route—was equally tough, if not tougher and more dramatic than the ascent. If felt like it went on forever; the snow was much deeper, sometimes falling through up to your stomach if you stepped on a weak spot. ?

At one point during the descent we heard a bang (the first of many), and Josh who was leading at the front suddenly stopped and looked around. We all stopped and looked at Josh. “Did you hear that?” Josh asked. Another bang. “Urghhh yes...?”, we said tentatively. It turned out to be large packs of snow and ice under our feet that was falling through large air pockets, crashing to the ground surface below. I must say it felt very unnerving! ?

And so we progressed, slowly, falling through the snow, with the sound of banging below us, and the intense reflective sun beating on our frozen faces, eventually making it back to base camp some four hours later. We were all absolutely knackered, but equally as satisfied with the accomplishment of having kept up the pace, and making it back before we all totally fell apart with exhaustion. ?

On the final day we had a prize giving presentation, where Matt and Josh summed up the experience we’d all had and gave a beautifully crafted bush craft knife to the student they thought had made the most personal progress. We then all took part in a mini-Olympics event where each team of students was tasked with a series of survival challenges, based on activities that we had learnt during the week which included fire lighting, snow cave digging and a race through the snow, among others.?

And so the week came to an end. It had both flown by and felt like an age due to the sheer intensity and quantity of activities we’d done—bleary eyed, we all piled onto the coach as it sat waiting for us outside the restaurant that we had become so accustomed to. Ten hours, and two flights later we’d made it back to London. I picked up my bags and parted ways with the group—it is an experience I genuinely will never forget, an experience which also taught me a few really valuable lessons about the personal growth that can be had by taking yourself truly outside of your comfort zone. ?

I’m now yearning for my next adventure...?

Thanks for reading! This is the start of my writing journey, reflecting on experiences, and sharing my thoughts and ideas, and I'd love to connect with as many people as possible along the way... If you have any feedback or comments, do please feel free to reach out - you can DM, or email me at [email protected] .