We approached the lower Sky Station with trepidation having been advised to wear everything we’d packed! Some in our group popped on a couple of extra layers, others you could see had taken the advice more literally and had their jackets bulging.
Looking somewhat ‘Michelin-like’ we waited patiently. With a jolt our chair began to ascend – we’re off! And…we’re not! The chair stopped suddenly for the next couple. Then we were off again, briefly, until the next couple boarded and so on – no wonder the journey to the top of Abisko would take 20 minutes.
The sky, absolutely filled with stars, looked promising with just a hint of a green wash growing steadily stronger. We kept our eyes firmly on the goings on above our heads rather than below our feet since it remained light enough to see the ground dropping away.
For those of a nervous disposition or prone to sea-sickness, you may want to prepare yourself for an interesting ride. As the chairs continued upwards it was only the cold that kept our conversation away from discussing the rocking from side to side and bouncing up and down, each time the journey was interrupted.
At the half way platform the temperature dropped noticeably but thankfully by now, everyone had boarded and the journey continued relatively smoothly - just as well as the wind was beginning to cut into our faces. The second half of the ascent was particularly steep and the tiny flashing lights, secure
d to each chair before we set off, seemed to carry on forever.
It was bitterly cold at the summit, the kind of cold that when we took off your gloves to fumble for our cameras, turned our hands claw-like. The temperature, with the wind chill factor was given as -26°C. By now the northern lights were performing in all their glory. We had a green arc reaching across our heads and gigantic vertical curtains you could actually believe were blowing in the wind. There were waves of light, appearing, pulsing then bleeding into the night. Whichever way we turned, the lights were appearing in some way or another, the group ‘ooh-ing and arr-ing’ as if watching fireworks.
People were frantically trying to photograph the displays and were getting frustrated when they couldn’t. Some even used flash which just didn’t work – much better to simply enjoy the moment than to worry about taking pictures. Mother Nature’s own light show is incredibly difficult to photograph well, unless you are able to use a really long exposure and that generally requires a tripod. Besides, there are so many wonderful professional images available, buying a postcard or a book back at the hotel seemed like a good idea – and it meant we could keep our gloves on!
At the summit Sky Station, the little café provided a much-welcomed place to warm up and our guide happily chatted to anyone wanting to know more about the lights – apparently the best sighting they’ve had for ages. We felt very privileged.
The last chairs home were at midnight but some of us decided to head back down earlier. The continued glow in the sky meant we could see all the way down the side of the mountain and the lights of our accommodation in the distance. Although the first drop over the side took our breath away, we spent the rest of our time watching further glimpses of the aurora and excitedly discussing what we’d just witnessed.
On the walk back to the hotel the feeling returned to our fingers and we headed off to the bar to thaw out completely. It may have been cold and slightly uncomfortable at times but we wouldn’t have missed it for the world!
Jo Bower
Please note: as the northern lights season has now come to an end – be sure to register your interest with us for next season.
