Norway In Winter: Living Above The Arctic Circle in the Lofoten Islands

Norway in winter isn’t a destination, it’s a feeling. Stark, cinematic, and deeply elemental. I’ve been obsessed with Scandinavia ever since watching Vikings… the landscapes, the mythology, the rawness of people literally living at the edge of the world. Landing in the Lofoten Islands felt like stepping straight into that long-held fascination, only sharper, colder and far more beautiful than anything on a screen.

After arriving in Lofoten, we did what every sensible person does before disappearing into an Arctic cabin in the middle of nowhere over Christmas when everything will be closed – stocked up at the supermarket! Three days’ worth of food, wine and all the small comforts you want when you know civilisation is about to drop away. From there, we drove to our timber cabin in Gimsøya, where we would spend the 23rd, 24th and Christmas Day completely removed from the outside world.

The cabin itself was impossibly beautiful. A warm timber hideaway perched right on the beach, mountains rising dramatically behind it, the sea stretching endlessly in front. It felt fragile and powerful all at once, like it belonged exactly where it was, other small grass-topped cabins sat empty, a reminder of just how far away we were from anyone, and everything.

As we pulled up the car, luggage still untouched, we walked out onto the deck to look at the stars – and there it was. The faint beginning of the aurora. What started as a soft glow quickly unfolded into a three-hour spectacle, green ribbons dancing across the sky, growing stronger and wilder as the night deepened. It was the kind of moment that makes you forget the cold entirely.

This far north, winter lives under polar night. The sun never truly rises, and the world exists in shades of blue, purple and soft grey. Time contracts. Days feel slower, quieter, more introspective. You can really only do one activity each day as the light only lasts 4hrs at the most! Without sunlight dictating the day you have no choice but to retreat indoors, to rest and sleep, with lots of cosy warm winter fires.

On the 24th, we set out to hike Nonstinden, overlooking the village of Ballstad. Frozen air in our lungs, silence broken only by wind. The view from the top is staggering, fjords carving through the land, jagged peaks layered into the distance, villages glittering, tiny pockets of light expanding everywhere below. The hike is demanding being basically all elevation, but absolutely worth every step up.

Christmas Day we visited Uttakleiv Beach, its wide, open shoreline framed by mountains and Arctic light. The waves rolled in wildly, we clambered around looking for the famous Dragons Eye in the rockpools, but the weather and water was too wild. Back at the cabin, our first Christmas alone was spent indoors with board games, warm food and the luxury of nowhere else to be. No rush, no noise, just family time in winter and stillness.

The next day we said goodbye to Gimsøya and drove south toward Reine, one of the most dramatic places I’ve ever seen. We stayed at Reinefjorden Sjøhus, red cabins sitting right at the water’s edge, surrounded by sheer, vertical mountains. The night we arrived, a powerful Arctic storm rolled in. Winds howled, snow drove sideways, and the following day we were forced to shelter inside. The hikes I had been so excited to do were impossible, which was so disappointing, having come so far from Australia. It’s important to remember that you can’t always do the things you had planned when coming to such a wild, raw and dramatic location in the middle of winter.

When the storm finally eased, the entire landscape had transformed. Where rock had been exposed before, everything was now blanketed in snow. Beautiful could never describe it.

We braved the storm to run to the sauna at Reinefjorden Sjøhus, whose floor to ceiling glass window overlooked the fjord, and is one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen. Just sitting in the quiet warmth of the sauna, looking out at the jagged mountain scenery, is a moment in time I will never forget. Brad followed it with a full Arctic plunge into the fjord, which ended up being quite funny as he nearly got swept away. See my Instagram Norway highlight for the hilarious footage!

On our last day in Lofoten we said goodbye to Reine and drove north, stopping at the villages of Nusfjord, a preserved fishing village that feels suspended in time, and later Henningsvær, with its colourful houses and exposed coastline. We stopped in for hot chocolates and coffee at the cute AF Landhandleriet Café which I highly recommend. We had lunch at Henningsvær Lysstøperi and Café for some delicious pizza… a lovely cosy restaurant with plenty to choose from.

Photo caption: Henningsvær Football Stadium perched between sea and rock, one of the most striking settings in the world.

After visiting the villages the drive back north was not for the faint‑hearted. Another Arctic storm rolled in, and suddenly we were navigating a blizzard. Visibility dropped, snow swallowed the road, and every kilometre demanded focus. It was quite stressful and a reminder that travelling above the Arctic Circle means surrendering control and respecting the elements.

Norway in winter strips everything back. Comfort, predictability, noise… all gone. What’s left is raw beauty, dramatic weather, and moments that feel otherworldly. Living above the Arctic Circle isn’t easy, but it is unforgettable.