Where I live, we haven’t seen a true winter for years. Now it’s snowing, but it’s not the thick, weighty snow I remember from childhood – the kind that built up into soft walls and forced us to carve narrow corridors just to walk through. The last time I experienced such a winter was in Northern Norway, in Tromsø and its surrounding fjords. I remember one afternoon sinking into snow up to my knees, completely swallowed by its silence. Tromsø lies nearly 350 kilometers north of the Arctic Circle, where winters are not just cold – they are polar, defined by weeks without sun and a heavy, glowing stillness. Just recently, I heard that a severe, freezing winter wave has swept through the region again. It made me return to the photographs I took there, in that white, distant world.

Winter in Northern Norway

Tromsø is the largest urban area in Europe beyond the Arctic Circle, nestled in the heart of Northern Norway. The city lies at about 69°N, where the Arctic climate reveals its extremes: in summer, the Midnight Sun keeps the sky bright for weeks, while in winter, the Polar Night wraps the land in darkness, as the sun stays hidden below the horizon. When we were there at the turn of the year, during the peak of the winter solstice, daylight lasted only a few hours. One afternoon, I saw only a yellow glow behind the mountains – the sun itself never appeared. The region is bordered by the Arctic Ocean, framed by the Lyngen Alps, and carved by ancient ice into deep, narrow fjords. Although surrounded by a wild, frozen landscape, Tromsø is slightly milder than its neighbors, thanks to the softening breath of the Gulf Stream, which carries warmth far into the north.

Tromsø is accessible by air, with Tromsø Airport being a major hub for the region. The city is also connected by road and sea. A bridge and an undersea tunnel connect the island of Tromsøya – where the city center is located – with the mainland and the nearby island of Kvaløya. This archipelagic geography gives the city a dispersed yet scenic character, with water never far from view.

The fjord cutting Tromso. A white structure you can see on the photo is the Arctic Cathedral – one of Tromsø’s most recognizable landmarks – a sharp, geometric structure that seems to rise from the snow like a crystalized wave or a frozen sail. Its design, by Norwegian architect Jan Inge Hovig, was completed in 1965, and quickly became a symbol of the city.

The lands around Tromsø have been home to the Sámi people for thousands of years – a culture shaped by reindeer migration, storytelling, and deep knowledge of the Arctic. Later, Norse seafarers arrived, carving out their own settlements along the fjords and coasts. In 1252, Tromsø received its first town charter from King Håkon Håkonsson, becoming one of the oldest urban settlements in Norway. For centuries, it served as a trading post and fishing port, surviving through waves of prosperity and hardship – including economic downturns and devastating fires during the 17th century. In the 19th century, the city earned a new identity: the Gateway to the Arctic. From here, ships set sail into the unknown – toward the Arctic and Antarctic frontiers, carrying explorers whose names now echo in polar history. The founding of the University of Tromsø in 1968 brought new life and purpose, anchoring the city as a center of education, research, and polar science at the edge of the world.

Just a few pictures from the city of Tromsø …

During our stay in Northern Norway, we lived about 40 kilometers from Tromsø. We explored the surrounding area intensely – following winding roads through snow-covered valleys, between mountains, and along quiet, frozen shores. By day, the landscape was full of contrast. The glassy surface of the fjord reflected the jagged peaks of the surrounding mountains. The faint daylight – brief but piercing – could make the snow sparkle, casting a fragile, crystalline silence over everything. But at night… the world changed. The depth of the fjord swallowed all shape and sound. When the Polar Night settled fully, the water turned ink-black, a void so deep it felt like a tear in the earth. Steep rock walls rose from the darkness like shadows – sometimes lit faintly by the moon, sometimes completely hidden.

We spent hours hunting for the Northern Lights, standing still on frozen ground, eyes lifted to the dark sky. Sadly, we weren’t lucky. We arrived during a period when the auroras were faint and rare. Just once, the sky lit up with an intense green glow, spreading softly like breath. After that, only a few faint smudges appeared – quiet, almost invisible, slipping among the stars.

… and from its surroundings, taken at different sites all around the area.

We didn’t see a spectacular aurora. There were no great adventures. But Tromsø stayed with me — not for what happened there, but for how it felt. Snow, darkness, silence. Sometimes, that’s enough.