Earlier this month, I finally visited a place that has perpetually sat at the top of my travel wishlist over the years: Greenland. For quite some time, I have been endlessly fascinated by this enormous, ice-capped island that straddles the divide between Europe and North America, a largely untamed wilderness that’s home to some of the most mesmerising landscapes and remotest communities on Earth. And so, after several months of copious researching and planning, it was with immense anticipation that I set off for Greenland’s west coast in the middle of winter on an adventure that would see me sail among gigantic icebergs, hike across the frozen sea, attempt to sleep in an igloo beneath the Northern Lights, and gain an enlightening insight into the Inuit way of life.
Arriving in Greenland: first impressions from Nuuk
Myggedalen viewpoint, Nuuk
My journey began by flying to Copenhagen, spending the night there before flying out to Nuuk with Air Greenland the following morning. This route launched in November 2024 following the opening of Nuuk’s brand new international airport, which features an extended 2,200-metre runway to receive larger aircraft for the first time. You can therefore fly from Copenhagen straight to Greenland’s capital rather than having to change planes in Kangerlussuaq, a former military base which previously served as Greenland’s main hub for international travel. The flight to Nuuk took just under five hours, but it felt fairly quick and comfortable. Air Greenland’s flagship plane, Tuukkaq, has a full in-flight entertainment system, Wi-Fi and complimentary food and drink service, much like you would expect on a transatlantic flight from the UK to the US.
On arrival in Nuuk, a taxi offered the quickest means of getting from the airport to the city centre – there is a bus, but it’s not particularly frequent and only takes cash payments. As I was staying just one night here before continuing my journey up north, I was keen to make the most of my time in Nuuk and get a feel for life in one of the world’s smallest and most isolated capitals. It’s home to around 20,000 people, roughly 35% of Greenland’s total population, but it felt like a considerably bigger place than I had anticipated. Its architecture is an unusual mix of austere concrete blocks, sleek, contemporary structures such as the Nuuk Centre and the Katuaq Cultural Centre, and the kind of brightly coloured timber houses that have become quintessential features of every Greenlandic settlement. The neighbourhood known as Old Nuuk, where the city (originally named Godthåb) was founded by Danish-Norwegian missionary Hans Egede in 1728, was particularly charming to explore, with several excellent viewpoints.
Despite its cosmopolitan character and comprehensive infrastructure, the brutal surrounding landscape serves as a constant reminder of Nuuk’s remote setting; it’s built on a rocky outcrop at the entrance to one of the world’s largest fjord systems, surrounded by ancient granite mountains, with no roads connecting it to any other settlements. In the evening, I enjoyed a delicious dinner at Charoen Porn, one of Greenland’s surprisingly ubiquitous Thai restaurants, before heading across the road to the Godthåb Bryghus microbrewery for some local craft beer.
Ilulissat: the iceberg capital of the world
Sailing on the Ilulissat Icefjord
After my overnight stay in Nuuk, I took a flight north to Ilulissat, which made a brief pit stop in the town of Aasiaat to drop off and pick up some passengers en route. This is fairly common in Greenland, as are delays and cancellations, such is the unpredictable and often extreme nature of the Arctic weather conditions – particularly in winter. It’s all part and parcel of travelling in Greenland, which is why it’s always worth building in a buffer day or two in case your plans need to be adapted. Somewhat miraculously, though, I arrived in Ilulissat on schedule, despite a combination of heavy snowfall and fog. I opted to stay in a self-catered apartment in the town centre, but Ilulissat has plenty of hotels to choose from, several of which have highly regarded restaurants showcasing authentic Greenlandic cuisine. The most upmarket of these is Hotel Arctic, a four-star property on a hilltop overlooking Disko Bay, with two restaurants (one casual, one fine dining) and seven glass-walled Aurora Cabins alongside its standard rooms and fully-equipped apartments. It is, however, a 20-minute walk from town, which is worth bearing in mind, although a shuttle bus and local bus service are available.
Ilulissat itself is an extremely photogenic place. It’s Greenland’s third largest town (after Nuuk and Sisimiut), home to around 4,500 people who mostly live in colourful timber houses dotted across a series of small hills that slope down towards the bay. The standout attraction, though, lies just beyond the town itself: the Ilulissat Icefjord, which became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2004. This 45-kilometre long fjord cuts a great slash into Greenland’s west coast, where every year billions of tonnes of ice calve from the Jakobshavn Glacier (Sermeq Kujalleq), drifting out to sea in the form of giant icebergs. Rather appropriately, Ilulissat means ‘icebergs’ in the West Greenlandic language, Kalaallisut.
Ilulissat Icefjord, as seen from the Yellow Trail
You can see the icebergs from all around Ilulissat, but the best way to experience them up close is a boat cruise, which are operated by many local tour companies. I went with Disko Line Explorer, whose boats are constructed to sail to the ice fjord all year round, including in winter when the sea itself can be frozen or at least partially frozen at its top layer. Weaving a path between the icebergs was a mesmerising and humbling experience in equal measure, such was the sheer scale and sublime beauty of these natural sculptures, the largest of which were roughly the size of a football stadium. Some were perfectly smooth and pure white, like polished marble glistening in the afternoon sun, while others were jagged, sharp-edged and almost luminous blue, akin to frozen mountains rising out of the sea. It was around -20°C while standing out on deck, but with ample layers and such otherworldly views to take in, it was easy enough to tolerate the frigid temperatures. The tour concluded with cocktails made from local gin, Greenlandic herbs and berries and a shard of ice carved fresh from an iceberg.
While a cruise on the ice fjord is an absolute must-do when visiting Ilulissat, you can also get a fantastic view of the icebergs by hiking along any of the three trails – red, blue and yellow – that start at the Icefjord Centre, a swirling, futuristic structure of steel, wood and glass. It houses a gift shop, a cafe and an exhibition that tells you all about the history of the ice fjord and its future in the context of climate change. Of the three hiking trails, the blue trail is the longest at 7km, while the yellow trail (3km) and the red trail (1km) are less demanding. They’re well marked and easy enough to follow, but depending on the snow conditions, the blue and yellow trails can be harder to access in winter time. When hiking the yellow trail, it’s well worth making a stop at Café Asimut, a cosy peat hut café in the unlikeliest of locations, for a bite to eat or something to drink. In winter, it’s the perfect spot to seek refuge and warm up; in summer, you can sit outside and watch whales pass by down below.
Igloo Lodge by World of Greenland
Igloo Lodge, by World of Greenland
One of the highlights of my trip was without doubt an overnight stay at Igloo Lodge – one of a collection of wilderness lodges run by World of Greenland (along with Ilimanaq Lodge and Glacier Lodge Eqi), and the only one that’s accessible during winter. It’s way out in the backcountry, around 15 kilometres outside of Ilulissat, and is typically open from late January until early or mid-April. We set off in the morning from Ilulissat, travelling by snowcat through a landscape of snow-cloaked valleys, frozen lakes and rugged mountains, arriving at the lodge just in time to watch the sun rise over the mountains, which happens at around 11.30am at this time of the year.
The staff at the lodge greeted our group with hot drinks, which were extremely welcome given that the outside temperature had dropped to -26°C at this point (cold enough to be able to throw a cup of boiling water into the air and for it to freeze into ice crystals before touching the ground). We then got ourselves acquainted with the lodge, a cosy timber-clad building with a communal dining and lounge area facing out across the icy plain and the mountains beyond. There’s no electricity and no running water, but it’s kept warm by oil stoves; it’s a true off-grid experience designed for total immersion in nature. Inside, there are several warm rooms that you’re more than welcome to spend the night in if you can’t quite manage a full night in an igloo. Speaking of which, the igloos here are traditional igloos, handmade using compacted snow blocks and kitted out with seal skin rugs and thermal sleeping bags – a far cry from the kind of glamorous glass igloos that have become so synonymous with the northern reaches of Finland.
Inside Igloo Lodge
After a fabulous lunch of rye bread, smoked halibut, salmon, and a selection of cured meats including musk ox and reindeer, we squeezed into thermal suits and boots in preparation for an exhilarating snowmobile ride through the wilderness, eventually arriving on the shores of a frozen fjord where Inuit fishermen keep their sled dogs and go fishing for halibut. Leaving our snowmobiles behind (they aren’t allowed to be driven in the UNESCO area), we ventured out on foot across the frozen sea, where we could walk right up to icebergs that were locked in the ice. It was then time to return to the lodge for some hot cocoa and homemade cake, just as the sun began to set. With no internet, it was a rare novelty to be totally disconnected from the outside world, allowing us to fully embrace the stillness and the silence of the Arctic wilderness as darkness gradually set in.
Igloo Lodge by night
A hearty dinner was served by candlelight as our guides shared stories about life in Greenland and provided us with some useful tips for sleeping in the igloos. Thankfully, the sky remained perfectly clear as it had been all day, and so we waited patiently for the Northern Lights to make an appearance. Sure enough, after a couple of hours, they did, and we watched in awe as the aurora danced above the mountaintops, our view enhanced by the lack of any artificial light pollution. As is often the case, the show started with a subtle arc stretching across the sky, which soon morphed into ribbons and rays of green light, clearly visible by the naked eye against the star-studded night sky. With the temperature dropping close to -30°C, capturing them on camera proved challenging, not just for our frozen fingers but also our phone batteries.
After midnight, we settled into our igloo, which we endeavoured to sleep in, but eventually retreated to the comfort of a proper bed in the lodge after a couple of hours. The following morning, there was time for a leisurely breakfast and the chance to reflect on the previous day’s adventures before the snowcat returned to bring us back to the civilization of Ilulissat once more. Staying at the Igloo Lodge was an absolutely unforgettable experience, made even better by the wonderful company of our fellow guests and the staff who ensure the whole thing runs to perfection.
Northern Lights galore
Northern Lights above the Ilulissat Icefjord Centre
Having been fortunate enough to see the Northern Lights numerous times before in Finland, Sweden, Norway, Iceland and even the UK, I tried to tell myself that seeing the Northern Lights in Greenland would be a bonus, but not a priority. If they showed up, great. If not, so be it. As ever, cloud cover would be the defining factor. Deep down, though, if I’m going somewhere where there’s a reasonable chance of seeing the aurora, I’ll always try to ensure I’m in the right place at the right time to do so.
As it happened, the Northern Lights appeared on three out of the seven nights I spent in Greenland. The only nights they weren’t visible were when it was cloudy; whenever it was clear at night, they were there. Solar activity wasn’t particularly strong, but at these latitudes, you can still catch some scintillating auroral displays even when the data doesn’t look great. So, as a general rule of thumb, if the skies are clear, it's always worth a look. Almost all of Greenland is positioned right beneath the auroral oval (roughly 60-75°N), with Ilulissat being ideally placed at 69°N – around the same latitude as Tromsø in Arctic Norway, perhaps the most renowned Northern Lights destination in Scandinavia.
Northern Lights in Ilulissat
When you’re this far north, the Northern Lights often appear directly overhead, and sometimes when looking towards the southern horizon, which I found to be the case on several occasions in Ilulissat. No two displays are the same, as the colours, shapes and intensity vary massively from night to night, and even from one minute to the next. When the conditions are favourable, the biggest difficulty you’ll face when trying to see them is escaping the light pollution. Even in a relatively small town like Ilulissat, the street lights can drastically inhibit your ability to detect the aurora, unless it’s a particularly powerful display – but the good thing is that you don’t have to walk far to find yourself in a dark sky spot.
The Icefjord Centre, for instance, is just a 15-20 minute walk from the town centre, and offers significantly better viewing conditions. Other easily accessible Northern Lights viewing locations are down by the waterfront near Zion’s Church, the hillside in front of Hotel Arctic, Hotel Icefiord and the rooftop terrace at Hotel Ilulissat. It’s also possible to join a Northern Lights boat cruise, which offers a different means of escaping the light pollution and the chance to see the aurora swirling above the icebergs.
Sledding with Greenland dogs
An energetic team of Greenlandic sled dogs
Alongside icebergs and the Northern Lights, no winter adventure in Ilulissat is complete without going dog sledding. It’s a rather different experience to husky sledding in Scandinavia, however. As opposed to Siberian and Alaskan huskies, the only sled dogs in Greenland are Greenland dogs – one of the purest and most isolated dog breeds in the world. They are only found in East Greenland and north of the Arctic Circle in West Greenland, and it is illegal to bring any other dog into these regions in order to preserve their genetic purity. Originally brought from Siberia to North America by the Thule people around 1,000 years ago, the Greenland dog has long been integral to the Inuit way of life, both for hunting and for transport. As such, they are extremely strong, tenacious and energetic animals that thrive in extreme Arctic temperatures – but they are not domesticated like pet dogs, and shouldn’t be approached without the permission and company of their owner.
Greenland dogs: one of the purest and most isolated dog breeds in the world
Unlike in Scandinavia, where the huskies typically work in pairs arranged in a linear structure, in Greenland the sled dogs run side-by-side in more of a ‘fan’ shape. I opted for a two-hour dog sledding adventure with a small, family-run company called Unique Tours, who collaborate with local mushers. Having never been dog sledding previously, it was every bit as fun as I had imagined, and, at times, quite a bit faster too. Two hours was more than enough, though, as the cold really does bite when you’re sat stationary for that long – even more so with the additional wind chill. So, while I’d definitely recommend dog sledding in Ilulissat, it’s imperative to wear as many layers of warm clothing as you possibly can. Some tour providers will offer their own thermal suits and boots, too, which are certainly worth making use of.
Final thoughts
Even after going in with very high expectations, it would be fair to say that Greenland was even more incredible than I’d imagined. It’s difficult to find the words or take the photographs that fully do justice to the sheer magnitude of its beauty, and its remoteness, but I hope I have been able to provide a flavour of what you can expect if you decide to make the journey to this truly extraordinary island. Besides the abundant natural wonders, I was also struck by the warmth, generosity and good humour of the Greenlandic people I met throughout my trip. And, as I boarded my flight from Nuuk back to Copenhagen, I left with an even greater appreciation of the ingenuity and resilience of these tight-knit communities who’ve carved out a unique way of life in one of the most challenging and spectacular corners of the planet. All that said, I only just scratched the surface on this trip, and already I’m contemplating when I’ll be able to return and delve deeper into all that Greenland has to offer.
