I'm an Arctic Travel Specialist — Here's What It's Like to Visit Wild, Remote Svalbard

My dreams of visiting Svalbard, the remote Norwegian archipelago, began to permeate a few years before I actually took the plunge. Drawn to its proximity to the North Pole — I'm a travel advisor, specializing in Arctic travel — I viewed it as a mystical, mysterious land. And I was curious about the world's northernmost settlements and the mindset of the inhabitants who call it home. I was firmly based in London at the time, and the concept of such a contrast in lifestyle intrigued me. 

I arrived here in February shortly after "the first light," a celebration for locals in which the sun peeks over the horizon for the first time in four months. In the middle of the day, the hint of sunlight creates a perpetual twilight, a wash of inky, icy blue watercolor that covers everything. For the remaining 18 hours of the day, Svalbard exists in pitch black. The lights of the tiny town of Longyearbyen barely impact the Arctic darkness — and the endless skies are prime for aurora spotting. 

With Jacada Travel, we'd planned an ambitious snowmobile trip across the island of Spitsbergen to Isfjord Radio, a remote expedition base camp. It was some 62 miles, and the weather changed dramatically over the course of the journey. The endless monochrome of the landscape made it difficult to grasp the scale of the vast glaciers and glistening fjords. We stopped to rest and shelter from the wind in an icy ravine — which would be a lush, grassy riverbank come summertime. We poured boiling water into expedition packs to hydrate our freeze-dried food. The extreme cold and surprising exertion from navigating a snowmobile through fierce Arctic winds left me ravenous — and I ate my lunch with gusto and kept my eyes peeled for any apex predators.

On our journey, we passed tiny trappers' huts warmed by wood-burning stoves and the old mining town of Barentsburg, rebuilt after World War II. (I was stunned to learn that German troops ventured into the harsh conditions of Svalbard to obtain meteorological data to aid their military tactics in Europe.) Hearing snippets of history and life here was fascinating.

When we arrived at Isfjord Radio, our guide described local life as a constant playground of snow sports. We passed skiers on huge hills, taking turns going down the slope, then jumping on a snowmobile to ride back up to the top. (No lines for the ski lifts here!) In an unmanned, unmarked ice cave in a glacier, we slid down a rope through otherworldly shades of blue and white, passing clusters of glassy stalactites, to land in an utterly magical labyrinth at the bottom.

At what felt like every turn, Svalbard took my breath away. Life here is isolated and conditions are harsh, but would it be an extraordinary place to live for a few years? Absolutely. Being so exposed to the natural elements enables you to feel the power of the Arctic, the intricacies of our planet's climate, and the challenges our earth faces. The contrast of the seasons — the darkness and isolation of winter compared to the abundance of light and wildlife that emerges in the summertime — is so unique to this spectacular archipelago. I won’t pack up my house just yet, but it won’t be the last time I visit Svalbard.

Kate Herz is a member of Travel + Leisure's A-List and specializes in custom Arctic trips. The experiences mentioned above can be arranged as part of a tailor-made itinerary by contacting her at kate@jacada​travel.com.