Viking Magazine - Jan/Feb 2025 - 16

to Trollfj orden, " the coastal experience team alerted us
through the ship's speakers. I was huddled with a large
group of passengers at the bow of the boat, the biting
wind turning my fi ngertips pink. Our ship was cruising
through the calm waters of Raſt sundet, a 15-mile-long
strait that is bisected by the magical Trollfj orden. All
around us, jagged mountains rose up from the clear blue
water, scraping the clouds with their snow-capped peaks.
Th at morning, Hurtigruten served us piping hot gløgg
in signature Trollfj orden mugs, and shared with us the
stories behind the natural marvel. Deeply intertwined
with Norse mythology, the narrow blue fj ord is fabled to
be the resting place of two mischievous trolls, who will
wake from their slumber in 1,000 years' time. Tightly
framed on either side by towering mountain peaks, the
328-foot-wide fj ord happens to be just large enough for
the MS Polarlys to enter through.
Th e tricky maneuver requires perfect weather conditions,
which we were lucky enough to receive that
aſt ernoon. Despite the mild but chilly wind, the refl ective
waters stood placid as our captain began the journey
into the fj ord, cutting west from the Raſt sundet strait.
I marveled from the bow as we sailed by the 3,000-foottall
peaks of Trolltinden and Blåfj ellet, which came so
close, we could nearly touch them. It was easy to see
why this scenery has been the inspiration behind countless
works of art and literature, its Arctic landscape so
dramatic it was almost otherworldly. Once inside the
fj ord, where a series of gentle waterfalls cascaded down
the mountainsides, our captain made a tight 180-degree
turn on the spot, exiting back the way we came. No trolls
awoke on our short passage through the mystical landmark,
but it surely still felt like a fairy tale.
SVOLVÆR, 6:30 P.M. A short bus ride from our port
stop in Svolvær brought us to Hov Hestegård, a seaside
horse stable and farm with views of the towering Mount
Hov. It was already dark when we arrived, a notion which
made me just the slightest bit nervous-were we really
going to ride horses across the beach in the dark?
But once I was saddled up on Mist, an even-tempered,
white Icelandic horse, and was led onto the beach, I
realized that it wasn't dark at all. Th e sky was lit by the
clear northern stars and the vivid pink and green of the
northern lights, which were glowing brighter by the second.
Our guide led us across the white sandy beach and
upward into the rugged hills above the shoreline, riding
directly into the light of the luminous sky. All was silent
save the steadily crashing waves of the sea and the clack
of hooves on the mountainside.
Our guide was from southern Germany and had
moved to Lofoten last year in search of new scenery.
When she accepted a job at the stables, she knew she
had found a home for herself.
" I've already been working here a year, but I'll never tire
of riding at night, " she told me, as we winded back down
toward the greenish glow of the Norwegian Sea. " It feels
like you're not of this world. " Holding Mist's horseshoe
back on the Polarlys that night (which had been giſt ed to
me as a souvenir), I felt there was no better way I could've
experienced the beauty of Lofoten.
66°30'N - CROSSING THE LINE
TROLLFJORDEN
ARCTIC CIRCLE, 7:30 A.M. Our group huddled on the
open-air deck of the Polarlys' seventh fl oor, gazing out at
the icy Norwegian Sea as we drew nearer to a momentous
occasion-the crossing of the Arctic Circle. Th e invisible
line that splits Norway in two is marked by a silver globe
on the small islet of Vikingen, which shines vibrantly
against the snowy white mountains rising from the sea.
Now crossing south of it, we were offi cially saying goodbye
to the unforgettable Arctic stretch of our journey.
As we passed the solitary globe, our captain and crew
whistled, cheered, popped bottles of champagne and passed
around spoonfuls of Norwegian cod liver oil in celebration.
63°25'N - HVETEBOLLER IN TRONDHEIM
TRONDHEIM, 6:30 A.M. Th e city of Trondheim was
mostly asleep when I stepped off the Polarlys the next
morning, but the twinkling lights strung above its colorful
streets were already glowing bright. I ducked into
16
Jan/Feb 2025
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Viking Magazine - Jan/Feb 2025

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