12/09/2026
First snow felled on our last day at the fjord, dusting the top of the surrounding mountains with white powder. Perhaps this marked the end of the brief summer and the beginning of winter. None of us were looking forward to going back to the town.
For the past weeks, the weather was in charge of what we could do each day. There was no fixed plan. We woke up, looked at the sky, and planned the day with what we were offered. The last view before we slept could be starry or northern lights. But the first view that we always woke up to was the fjord surrounded by mountains, parted by the calm lake-like sea, with floating icebergs. Everywhere looked near but was far due to the massive geological space we were in.
Out here in the remote fjord, we drank pure cyrstal clear unfiltered water directly from the streams created by ice melt. This water flowed freely and I could turned on the tap 24/7 without turning it off! It was unimaginable to me that water could be ‘wasted’ this way. We fished and hunted, foraged for berries and mushrooms, made tea with leaves, exploring the surrounds with our kayaks and hiked the mountains. Maligiaq showed us the way the Inuits lived off the land.
Our electricity was provided by arrays of solar panels. Gas gave us fire and warmth (no trees in the arctic!). And it also burned our waste! Sewage was incinerated on the spot by a sophisticated toilet system (Not eco friendly for sewage to go underground due to the permafrost).
Our fridge was outside. A cabbage lasted for weeks, for we encountered nothing that could harm our food. Whatever we wanted to keep chilled went outdoors in the balcony.
Sitting at the balcony gave me a profound view of the entire landscape. The silence and privacy that only such remoteness could provide. Out here I could reclaimed some form of raw living that we had lost in bright lights, big city. Self reliance, dependence on nature, deliberate movement… and an optimistic harmony with our planet.
Nuup Kangerlua
2026
