Arctic adventure

We land in Kiruna to snow all around. Disembarking the aircraft, the tarmac is crunchy underfoot. The cold takes your breath away - it's minus 23 degrees. We've arrived at Kiruna, northern Sweden, 150km inside the Arctic circle.

Inside, the small airport is warm and we're met by our friendly transfer driver - wearing only a light jacket and no gloves despite being in and out of the cold. We're whisked into the van before we can feel any effects of the harsh temperature. We head north-west towards Abisko, our base for the next three nights, and one of the best places in the world to see the northern lights.

Our drive takes us through a surreal winter wonderland. Trees are small and devoid of foliage, their skeletal branches laden instead with snow - a mix of classic Christmas tree-shaped pines and leafless silver birch.

As we pass Kiruna our driver explains that the town is the site of a large iron ore mine. They've been mining up to a kilometre below the city and are now in the process of moving the town four kilometers to the east to protect its safety and allow mining to continue.

It's 2.30pm and the sun is setting, light fading slowly from the sky. The white of the snow means that the light lingers longer. Soon we are driving beside lake Torneträsk, completely frozen over for the winter.

We arrive at Abisko and our accommodation. It's simple but warm and with lovely staff. We get kitted out in our arctic gear - hat, mittens, boots and overalls. It's explained to us that air is our friend and we need to trap as much as possible to stay warm, so the shoes and overalls especially should be bigger than our normal clothes sizes. We look fairly comical standing inside fully kitted out, but know we will be warm later. Our excitement builds for the night's activity, an Aurora photography course. The forecast is looking good, with strong activity predicted and a clear sky.

First we have dinner: it's a small town so the only choice is the restaurant onsite which offers a set menu with three courses. The room is lit by candles casting a warm glow, and the views from the windows are out to the snowy peaks around the village. The food is superb, modern fine dining incorporating local elements - the first night we have char, a local fish, with a swedish caramelised apple dessert; the next night there is shrimp soup, roast lamb, and churros for dessert.

We dress in our full arctic gear ready for our night's adventure - layers of thermals and merino with our arctic suits over the top. We're equipped with DSLRs and tripods and have a short walk with our group down to a forest-bordered field with views to the north away from the lights of the town. The aurora is already out! Initially it's a faint glow hanging in the sky. As our eyes adjust we see subtle movements. Photographing the lights is basically shooting in the dark. You orient the camera on the tripod toward the lights, push the button and stand back without bumping the camera. The camera picks up the green glow much more strongly than the naked eye. After an hour of some activity things quieten down. It's one of the coldest nights of the winter so far; the temperature drops close to -30. Jane takes refuge in the lavvu, where a fire is blazing and there is hot lingonberry juice to warm her from the inside; Ed stays outside to continue shooting.

Suddenly there is a call that the lights are strengthening. Those in the lavuu rush outside and are rewarded with rippling curtains of light swirling and dancing. Then the intensity increases and we see even more spectacular colours - red and purple on the underside of the curtains of light, the movement intensifies further and the sky is lit up! The display lasts more than 30 minutes. It's impossible to capture what is happening in photos - each time an area you've been watching starts to fade you turn around and realise there is something else happening behind, or above. Even our guide is enthralled and takes out his own camera for some photos. We're late finishing and heading back as everyone is so absorbed. It doesn't matter anyway - our transfer driver has been out watching the lights himself. We're so lucky that we've ended up here on one of the best nights of the year.

The next morning at breakfast everyone is buzzing about the previous night's show! As we eat breakfast the sky slowly lightens and we see the colours of the sunrise.

There's no actual sun, however; the mountains to the south of Abisko, which make it such a great spot to watch the northern lights as they block the weather, also mean that it will be another two weeks before direct sunlight hits the town through a spectacular gap between two mountains.

After a good breakfast we once again put on our many layers of clothing and head out for a walk through the town and down to the lake. It's very peaceful and quiet, the only sound the crunching of the snow under our boots. We admire the mountains, the snowy trees and the lake which is completely covered in ice - we can see some people ice fishing in the distance.

We also make a stop at the only shop - a small supermarket. Abisko is a town with only 120 permanent inhabitants. More than half the store is dedicated to sweets and sugary drinks. Norway, a short drive away, has a high sugar tax so Norwegians drive across the border to stock up on these, as well as fuel and meat which are all more economically priced in Sweden.

In the afternoon we have dog sledding. We arrive at the kennels as the sleds are starting to be set up, dogs harnessed and attached to the three sleds. They're all very friendly and excited to interact with us. We're given warm cloaks to wear over our arctic gear.

The excitement of the dogs builds and they're barking excitedly wanting to be underway. Our friendly guide gives us some quick tips, explaining how he'll call out for which way to lean to keep the sled on course. Our team of 11 dogs hasn't had a run today so we're told that they'll be fast and we're likely to be sliding around initially.

And then we're off - the dogs pull us forward with eminent power and their barking is immediately silenced as they focus on the task at hand. We're quickly out into the wilderness of the Abisko national park. The scenery is breathtaking, and the thrill of riding in the sled is exhilarating. It's a great moment to be alive!

We spot moose and reindeer in the distance. The light fades slowly during our trip - we stop for the dogs to rest and to admire the view. After gulping snow and sitting for a short while, the dogs are always enthusiastic to get underway again.

In the evening we're out again hunting the Aurora. This time we're with a guide who will take us out to the west of Abisko. We stop initially on the side of the road away from any of the lights of the town. The soft glow of the lights is already hanging in the sky. As Ed sets up the camera the intensity increases and once again we are rewarded with lights dancing above. Green with the red glow underneath, rippling in the sky. Our guide is very knowledgable about the lights, and we take the opportunity to ask him about the region. He's lived in Abisko year round for 15 years. We talk about this year's snow, which arrived very late in the season - there's only been the 30cm base needed for the winter activities for a couple of weeks, when usually this arrives before the beginning of December. July is apparently the only month without any snow.

Our next stop is further west, along the road and out onto the frozen lake. The Aurora is still lighting up the sky but has dissipated so that the glow surrounds us rather than having any distinct patterns. We walk out onto the frozen lake which at times makes disconcerting noises. Our guide jokes that it is the lake monster. It's actually the ice moving. We are reassured that we're perfectly safe - with 25 to 30 cm of ice, even with cracks, the surface will hold.

The next day we leave for our Sami reindeer experience. Before we're 10 minutes into the hour long drive, our driver points out a pair of reindeer grazing on the side of the road; a few minutes later we see more.

At our destination, around a dozen reindeer wait in an enclosure and we finally have a chance to see them up close. We're given handfuls of lichen, reindeers' favourite food, to feed them and they enthusiastically eat from our hands.

Our host teaches us about Sami lasso techniques while catching and harnessing a few reindeer who will soon draw our sleds. Then we head a few minutes into the forest where various Sami activities await for us to try: reindeer-drawn sledding, cross country skiing and lassoing.

Later, in the lavvu, we sit around the central fire and eat Sami food of reindeer meat cooked with vegetables, in folded flatbread parcels similar to soft tacos but larger. Our host tells us about Sami history and their way of life, and serves us Sami coffee in beautiful carved wooden cups.

Our last experience in Abisko is a trip up the STF touriststation for dinner. This is a 2km open chairlift to a ski base at the top of Mount Nuolja. We're told the outside temperature is minus 18 tonight, but it feels like minus 26. It's at least a 30 minute journey to the top, with the chairlift stopping anytime someone gets on or off. We're checked to make sure we have enough clothing, then we're seated in the small chairlift, with just enough room for the two of us padded so much in our arctic gear.

As soon as we pull away we're enveloped in the darkness and silence of the mountain. Just as the cold begins to be noticeable due to the lack of movement, we reach the top. It's warm and cosy with the room lit by candles. We remove our arctic outer layer and are seated at our table for dinner. The finest of dining experiences wearing snow boots and thermals. For dinner we eat soup garnished with slivers of arctic grouse, tartare of arctic char, roasted moose, and parfait with cloudberries. The food is divine, and even more special when we realise there is no running water at the station. All power comes from a small generator, and every ingredient is brought up on the same chairlift we ascended.

Later we're outside again with our eyes fixed to the sky. There are clouds tonight and there is much less aurora activity. The red glow on the horizon captured only on the camera is present and there is a short display of the rippling curtains of green. At midnight we abandon our watch - we ride the chairlift down the mountain, the lights of the town growing closer as we descend. The warmth of the station at the bottom of the mountain is welcomed gladly. We defrost for the last time. We've thoroughly enjoyed our time in the north of Sweden!

Stockholm

Flying into Sweden we see forests of snow covered trees. We've arrived at the depths of winter. It's -6 when we land and on exiting the terminal sparse flakes of snow fall from the air. Finally the snow watch is over! It's just after 3pm when we board the bus to take us into the centre of Stockholm and the light is starting to fade. By the time we reach the city centre the temperature has risen to -1.

Our hotel can only be described as Scandinavian. Peg board walls, bedside lights on hooks that can be repositioned on the ladder-like bedhead... and hydroponically grown salad greens and herbs at reception.

It's fully dark when we head out to explore the city and find somewhere for dinner. Every window we pass exudes style and simplicity. It's snowing lightly, and after dinner we find a city park transformed into a winter wonderland with ice skating rink and twinkling lights, all the prettier in the softly falling snow.

The next morning we're out exploring in the daylight. Stockholm is a city spread over 14 islands so there water and bridges are everywhere. We start our exploration in Gamla Stan, the old town. We're staying just to the north of this island, on the mainland in the area called Norrmalm, the central modern part of the city. With the lightly falling snow, the narrow streets and gingerbread style buildings there is a beautiful view at every turn.

In the water surrounding the island we watch the swans, geese, coots and ducks swim in the icy water - in some places the water is fully iced over, making a resting place for the birds.

After a while we head off the island of Gamla Stan and walk around the waterfront to the island of Djurgården, most of which has been preserved for parkland and many of the city's museums.

Tractors are out scraping the roads and footpaths clear of snow and dropping gravel from hoppers at their rear.

We spend the rest of the day at the Vasa Museet. This museum houses the recovered and reconstructed 17th century sailing ship, the Vasa. It sank 20 minutes into its maiden voyage while still in Stockholm harbour. At the time it was to be the centrepiece for the Swedish King's navy in the 30 Years' War. With two gun decks, less than 12 meters across, with too little ballast the ship was extremely unstable and it took only a few light gusts of wind for the ship to list and water to pour in through the lower gun ports. The museum is part intro to 17th century shipbuilding, political, military and everyday life and part archeology and preservation. So much to learn and see all related to just one ship! One of the best curated museums we've been to with very appropriate use of technology to tell the stories.

We have lunch in the museum restaurant and marvel at the views out across the waters. You can cut your own bread to accompany your meal and the tea is bottomless. At the end of the meals trays are put on a conveyer to be returned to the kitchen. There is no single use plastic at all and even the serviette holder reminds you to take only as few as you need, to support their sustainability efforts.

The next day We take a train trip to the west to visit Arboga, the town where Ed's great great grandfather was from. We sit on the top level of the two storey train and the view across the snowy landscape is picturesque. There's a lot more snow around here, but the day is clear and still, with no snow falling. We walk down to the river - it's mostly frozen over with only some room left for the ducks. The town has some quaint looking houses, old buildings and two beautiful churches.

In the evening we visit the Moderna Museet, Stockholm's modern art museum. The collection is perfectly sized with a good selection from impressionists up to the present day. It's interesting to see stronger influences from Russia in the collections.

On Wednesday we visit the Stockholm Royal Palace, Kungliga slottet. We take a tour to gain an understanding of the history and current role of the royal family. The palace was built in the 18th Century to replace the previous Tre Kronor castle that dated from medieval times. The old castle burned almost entirely, except part of one facade was incorporated into the new design. The new palace was simplified on the outside - a large square with central courtyard - while the interiors were decorated in lavish Rococo style. A small selection of furniture was purchased in France and then copied by Swedish craftspeople to reduce costs. One area where no expense was spared is the Hall of Mirrors, based on the one in Versailles and designed and constructed exclusively by French tradesmen. There is also one room renovated in modern Swedish style to honour the current king. Parts of the palace open to the public are still used for official events, including the state apartments where heads of state stay when on official visits.

As well as the state rooms we visit the Tre Kronor museum, which is in the medieval basement of the castle and shows how the new castle was constructed as well as what life at the old castle would have been like. We then head outside and around to the other side of the palace to see the treasury, which holds the Swedish crown jewels, and the carriage museum.

In the evening it's snowing more heavily than it has so far during our stay and the snow flakes are huge! We head back to Gamla Stan for dinner, to a restaurant serving traditional Swedish food in a sleek modern restaurant. We eat prawn on toast with fish roe, Swedish meatballs and potato dumplings stuffed with pork. There are lingon berry cocktails too!

On the way back to the hotel we stop to admire the snowy vistas of the city across the water.