6/15/17, “The Icefjord”
Nuuk Airport, Greenland, Kingdom
of Denmark (GOH)
A good part of today will
be spent in transit. There is
a chance I may be able to see the icefjord in Ilulissat when I land this
afternoon, but I am not entirely sure. I
had thought that it would just be as simple as walking to the coast and taking
a ceremonial picture, but that is not quite the case. The fjord is quite a few miles outside of
town, and I do not believe there are any roads that go there, so I would need
to take a boat from the harbor to the fjord, which I calculated to be about
20-30 nautical miles round-trip, or about a two-hour trip including stopping in
the fjord. It will be 4 PM by the time I
am ready to embark on that voyage, so I do not know if that is viable. Otherwise, I would have to do it tomorrow
before my flight.
Ilulissat, being above
the Arctic Circle, will experience midnight sun tonight, meaning that the sun
will never dip below the horizon, which is in contrast to the 24 hours of
daylight I have been experiencing, as thus far I have had a few hours of
twilight each night. That means going on
a boat tour (or hike) at midnight is no different than going on one at
midday. The only consideration is
what’s open and when things are operating.
Plan B would be hiking the five or so miles each way across the tundra
from Ilulissat to the fjord. I do not
want to have to do that. Ideally, I can
find a tour company at the airport and arrange for a 4 PM tour, which would get
me back to my hotel in time for dinner.
If that is the case, then I could have held this entry for the icefjord,
but, since I am not sure what the situation on the ground will be, I figured I
might as will use this time I have in transit to write an entry here at
GOH.
After I closed last night, I struggled,
and I mean struggled, to post my entry.
The challenge was uploading the 36 photos I needed to post for my
blog. I had to upload them slowly and in
batches, resizing the photos in any way that I could. In the process, the battery on my phone and
laptop both went down to almost zero.
I
went back inside to charge my laptop from the wall and my phone from my
laptop. I plugged my laptop into the
outlet, but it wasn’t charging. My heart
stopped. I soon realized that there was
a switch on the wall that had to be flipped to turn on the outlet. Eventually, I got the entry posted on my
blog, but I had used up the majority of the 3 hours of Wi-Fi I had purchased
for my laptop. I still had 24 photos I
wanted to post to Facebook.
I had a way
that I could drastically downsize the photos, which involved sorting through
the 24 photos on my laptop, transferring them to my phone, emailing them to
myself at lower file size, downloading the photos from my email, transferring
them back to my laptop, and uploading them.
That was quick once I started uploading them, but, well, the time and
location data embedded in the photos was lost in the process. I had to start again. My Wi-Fi also cut out, so I had to buy
another hour and start over yet again. I
think I uploaded and deleted three times in this process. I used an app on my laptop to make the photos
quarter-size (each dimension cut in half), and that worked. They were manageable, and I finally got my
photos posted.
I went to bed not long
after that, waking up after four REM cycles with almost no appetite. The breakfast spread was paltry, but I wasn’t
hungry, so it sufficed. I made a few
pieces of bread with toppings for myself, got a cup of coffee to go, lit up an LFD,
and headed out to the museum, which was just starting to open for the season,
by that I mean, it was unlocked, but it was not open to the public really.
I walked in, and they had what I wanted to
see, an exhibit on the Kujataa WHS nomination and one on Vikings in North
America. I started to walk back to my
hotel when I heard someone calling my name.
No, that wasn’t possible. No one
knows me here. It was the woman from
Blue Ice I had met yesterday. They
needed money for my meals from yesterday.
I gave her cash, explaining (truthfully) that I had tried to pay Carl,
but he didn’t want to take my money.
Ingrid, the woman from Blue Ice, confirmed that, saying that Ellen had
told her that Carl was good with the sheep but terrible with the hostel
business.
I then walked back to my
hotel, packed, got changed, and bought a replica of Leif Erikson’s long house
from the gift shop. A Blue Ice van took
me to the airport, and I checked in. We
soon departed, and I was glad to be able to get a seat in the front row with
the bulkhead. I tried to sleep en route,
and I reached a non-lucid state, but I didn’t quite achieve REM. It refreshed me, though, and I was awake when
we landed in Nuuk.
I was ready for
lunch, so I got something from the cafeteria.
I ordered a Panini, but I also saw they had these wrapped hot dogs,
which looked good. I got one while I
waited for the Panini, and I immediately had buyer’s remorse. This was more local, better, and
cheaper. I wasn’t even hungry for the
Panini, and I should have just gotten two or three of the franks. Oh well.
I only wound up eating half of the Panini.
I then went outside, where I found a smoking
shed and lit up an Oliva. After I bit, I
walked out to a bench in the sun, where I sat down and proceeded to write this
entry, which I will now close as we will soon be boarding the flight to
Ilulissat.
Ilulissat, Greenland, Kingdom of
Denmark (Ilulissat Icefjord)
When I travel, there is a term I
have called a “Grand Canyon moment.”
Like most of my travel terms, it is based on something from a previous
trip, namely when I visited the Grand Canyon, when I woke up that first
morning, and looked out and saw the Grand Canyon, being utterly amazed by the
vista. When I saw Machu Picchu from the
sentinel’s post or when I glimpsed Everest for the first time from my hotel’s
terrace would also be considered a “Grand Canyon moment.”
Reader, pardon my language, but, the Grand
Canyon ain’t got shit on the Ilulissat Icefjord. I have never seen anything like it in my
life. I have been to almost 300 World
Heritage Sites and 72 countries, and none of them have got shit on this
one. After all the energy, effort, and
expense involved in planning and executing this trip, this is where it comes to
an end, and it certainly has paid off.
This establishing shot, it’s not a snow-covered peak. It’s an icefjord, the only one of its kind in
the world. That sea of white, it’s pack
ice, broken off from the glacier, waiting to melt enough to drift off to the
ocean as icebergs. It is very densely
packed, and, while it looks like a frozen river, it would be foolhardy to get
any closer than the spot where I am sitting atop the rocky cliff looking out. Those shelves of ice off in the distance,
those will one day be icebergs.
Words
cannot do this justice, and the pictures cannot either. Only coming here can explain how wondrous
this view is, why it is worth getting eaten alive by mosquitos as I write this
entry. I called the Redwoods the Garden
of the Gods, well, this is God’s gin on the rocks, and I am sitting atop the
rim of the glass looking in. I suppose
full credit for me being able to reach this point is to be given to the
gorgeous Danish girl (not Eddie Redmayne) I sat next to on the plane, but that
will be recounted in due time.
After I
closed, I headed in to the terminal, and that was what began about an hour of
panic. My flight was due to leave within
the hour, and I looked up at the board.
The flight to Ilulissat was scheduled to leave on time, but there were
no planes on the tarmac. The board said
that the flight to Ilulissat was going to be on a very small plane and gave its
tail number. I could not find the tail
number on the arrival board. Whence was
this plane coming?
I asked about the
status of the flight to Ilulissat, and I was told it would be ten minutes
delayed and that the plane was coming from Kangerlussuaq. I looked at the board, and it seemed that,
yes, a bunch of planes were scheduled to arrive from Kangerlussaq, but they
were all the bigger planes (by which I mean a small plane instead of a tiny plane),
and the tail numbers did not match. I
checked the departure board again, and it showed a flight departing soon to
Kangerlussuaq, which was delayed ten minutes.
Did she think I said Kangerlussuaq?
Then I saw the small plane with the right tail number, and it was met by
an ambulance to offload a single passenger.
No luggage carts went to or from the plane, and no other passengers
disembarked. When the plane from
Kangerlussuaq landed, I asked a gate agent about the flight to Ilulissat. She asked if I meant flight 510, and I
confirmed after checking my boarding card.
She pointed to the bigger plane and said that it would be boarding
soon. I checked the departure board
again, but it said that flight 510 was to Kangerlussuaq.
That’s when a bell went off in my head. I pulled out my confirmation email print-out
and looked at the flight from Nuuk to Ilulissat, flight 510. Then I saw it. “1 Technical Stop.” That explained everything. The plane would refuel in Kangerlussuaq and
offload and onboard passengers before continuing to Ilulissat. Apparently, a lot of people fly from
Copenhagen to Ilulissat by connecting in Kangerlussuaq. That solved one problem, but it did not solve
how I would get from my hotel to the icefjord.
It was an unadventurous flight to Kangerlussuaq, and we all had to get
off the plane, and everyone would reboard, which meant that I risked losing my
bulkhead seat. That turned out for the
best. We looped around the terminal to
reboard the plane after they finished refueling, and that’s how I wound up
sitting next to the Danish girl. Before
my reader gets any ideas, she was engaged, to the tour manager at my hotel in
Ilulissat it seems. That made her an
expert.
She explained how easy it was to
see the icefjord. Boats can’t really
enter the icefjord, as it is too dangerous, and a boat tour would not afford me
much of a different view than this one.
She said that the road goes to the old heliport, and from there it about
a 1-km hike to see the icefjord. I could
walk or take a taxi from the hotel to the old heliport. There were other trails along the edge of the
icefjord and so much to see, and she reminded me that the sun would not set
tonight, so I had all the time in the world to do whatever I wanted and make
the best of my 24 hours here.
We talked
throughout the whole flight, and we soon landed, saying our goodbyes before we
got off the plane, the diamond ring on her left ring finger putting pay to any
other ideas I might have had. When we
got off the plane, as I was waiting for my luggage, having little faith in it
having successfully made its way here all the way from Narsarsuaq, I heard her
ask what hotel I was staying at. I told
her the Hotel Arctic, and she told me that there was a shuttle bus for it right
outside. Excellent. My bag was one of the first ones out, and I
headed to the shuttle bus, surprised to see her get on, too.
It was a short ride, and, when we got there,
she leapt out and raced towards a man in a red Hotel Arctic shirt, whom I took
to be her fiancé. I checked in, and then
I asked them more questions in their (or his) official capacity. They gave me a map, and it all made
sense. This would be as easy as I had
originally thought, and my panic this morning and early afternoon were
misplaced.
I went to my room, which
involved circumnavigating a bit of a maze, and I had a killer view. I got resituated and packed literally eveything other than food that I might need until the midnight sun, but I would
have come back for dinner and to post my entry, since this is Day 6, and once
midnight sun occurs, it would be Day 7.
I will watch the midnight sun from wherever I can get the best
north-facing view, which is not this. I
have done everything I have set out to do on the islands of fire and ice, so
the next 72 hours are just focused on enjoying wherever I find myself and
making my way home.
I got about of a
runaround on dinner, but it turned out the restaurant was not serving guests
tonight (as it just going to be for the tour groups, but the cafeteria was
open, and they had a nice menu. I needed
chips. They didn’t have any, but they
said I could find some on my way to the trailhead. The front desk called me a taxi, and we
stopped at the supermarket on the way, where I got some crackers.
We were soon at the heliport. I finished my crackers and found the Plaque
right at the trailhead. “Are you ready
for this?” I asked myself. “I was born
ready,” I answered. I lit up a Bolivar,
the red and white tube very fitting for Greenland, and took my picture with the
Plaque. I then got on the trailhead.
About a minute later, I saw it. That was my first Grand Canyon moment. I was floored. I was in complete disbelief. As I kept walking, the view got more
incredible, and the only word that came to mind had four letters and began with
an eff. I just kept saying it in
different conjugations and with different adjectives and tenses attached. I soon came to the bend, and I knew that once
I rounded the bend, I would see something unreal.
I did.
More F-bombs. I walked a bit off
trail to find this spot, and that’s where I took my ceremonial picture before ditching
my cigar. I then sat down on a rock,
where I proceeded to light up my Damiano Rovera, my second-best pipe, second
only to my trusty Ardor, which I typically reserve for capitals and will smoke
in Nuuk tomorrow night, and write this entry, which I will now close so that I
can explore the trail a bit more before heading back for dinner and before
getting entirely eaten alive by mosquitos, which are attacking me quite
viciously now.
Ilulissat, Greenland, Kingdom of
Denmark
It feels so good to be done with my mission. I have done what I set out to do, and I have done it with far more success than I dared dream. A successful Return Journey is all that stands in the way between this trip and a spot on the all-time top five list. I am relaxed and relived, and I can enjoy the next 72 (or, actually, closer to 60 hours) of my time on the islands of ice and fire before I have to go home.
It has been a great trip, and I will have
plenty of time for reflection over the next few days. I am tired and exhausted from these six days,
and I want to get everything in order before I head out to see the midnight
sun. The next time I see the midnight
sun, it will be probably be in Norway, either in Nordkapp or Longyearbyen, and
not during Trump’s first term (if he makes it that long).
To my readers who think they have seen the
midnight sun, allow me to clarify a point.
You can only see the midnight sun above the Arctic Circle. It does not
mean going outside at midnight and it still being light out, which can be
experienced in June and July from 60N to 66N (and December and January from 60S
to 66S).
It means that the sun is still
above the horizon at solar midnight, which will occur at 1:24 AM here tonight, in
two hours. It means that the sun just
dips down to its lowest point in the sky at solar midnight, and the starts
going up again. It is an unreal thing to
see, almost as wondrous as the Aurora, but you must choose one when you go to
The North, as they obviously cannot be visible in the same night. Okay, enough with the astronomy lesson.
After I closed at the icefjord, I walked
around a bit more, continued to get attacked by mosquitos, and then lit up an
H. Upmann, which seemed to repel them. I
walked back up the trail, up the road, and to the grocery store. A block from the grocery, I tried to hail a
cab, but apparently, that’s not a thing here.
He told me that he would call me a cab and that I should wait five
minutes. Well, then I saw a van from my
hotel in the parking lot of the grocery store, and I asked him if he could take
me back to the hotel. As we were pulling
out, the cab pulled in, so I had to get out to tell the cab I didn’t need him
anymore. I expected him to be annoyed,
but he was fine about it.
When we got to
the hotel, I went straight to the cafeteria for dinner. In short, the food was mediocre, the service
atrocious, and the price obscene. I
settled on the crab legs appetizer, which were caught locally, and the
Arcticburger (beef and muskox) main course, along with a beer. She brought out the beer first and then took
my food order. After taking the food
order, with the full glass of beer still in front of me, she asked if I wanted
something to drink. Strike one.
The crab legs came, and they were good, but
it took so long to eat them, that I was practically full by the time I was done
with them, and my burger was still on my way.
After she took away the crab legs, she asked if I wanted any coffee or
tea. I reminded her that I was still
waiting for my main course. Strike
two.
The burger soon came, and it was
better than the burger from last night, but that’s not saying much. After I finished, it was quite some time
before she came over to clear my plate and take a dessert order. Strike three.
If there’s one thing I hate more than anything else at a restaurant, it’s
having to wait forever after finishing my meal for them to clear the table or
bring the check. That happened to me at
three-star Michelin restaurants in Germany, and I almost walked out without
paying one time. That got their
attention. After she cleared my plate, I
saw that they had “pie with local crowberries.”
I do not know what crowberries are, but it sounded good. I asked for it with a cup of coffee and a
scoop of ice cream, all of which she promptly brought. The dessert was easily the best part of the
meal, and she didn’t charge me for the ice cream or the coffee, so that was
nice.
After dinner, I lit up an E.P.
Carrillo and walked around the hotel grounds a bit, glad to explore the
area. There was a boardwalk that led to
what they call the “igloos,” basically metal-insulated cabins, and I had buyer’s
remorse over not having stayed in one of those.
I then saw that there some rocks that I could climb, and I reminded me
of the rocks I climbed behind my hotel in Yellowknife four years ago when I
first fell in love with The North.
It
also reminds me of the rocks I climbed in Norway outside a house whose owner’s
name escapes me almost twenty years ago, and perhaps that was when I actually
first fell in love with the North. I
have declared to be the most beautiful place I have ever visited, but with
trips on the horizon over the next decade to Siberia, northern Scandinavia, and
Svalbard, I know not how long Greenland can retain that title. I do know that my heart belongs to the
morning, and nothing outside of The North can ever unseat Greenland, though I
do very much look forward to future trips to Vanuatu and Morocco and
Mongolia.
There was an incredible view
of the bay from the top of the rocks, and a haunting view of the hotel off in
the distance. I walked back to my hotel,
and my phone died in the process, so I went back to my room to charge it. It was time to have a pipe and write my
entry. I did not see any benches outside,
but I also did not see any “No Smoking” in my room or on the door, so I figured
I was good. I took precautions to
ventilate, anyway. I sat by the window,
where I proceeded to light an Ardor and write this entry, which I will now
close so that I can publish and post my photos before heading out to see the
midnight sun, which will mark the beginning of Day 7.
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