Svalbard: Exploring the World’s Northernmost Town | 斯瓦爾巴：探索世界最北的城鎮

This is Long Yiu Bay, the northernmost town that regular folks like us can actually reach. Unless you're a scientist or in the military, this is about as far north as it gets. Tucked deep within the Arctic Circle, it's as close to the North Pole as most of us will ever stand. It feels like another planet. When we arrived, we hadn't planned on renting a car. But at the airport, we saw the rental booth and thought, why not? It turned out to be one of the best spontaneous decisions we made. Svalbard isn't large in terms of roads. There are only a handful of routes stretching between Long Yiu Bay and a few nearby sites. But that's part of what makes driving here so peaceful. No traffic, no rush, just open arctic landscapes and the freedom to stop wherever your heart feels strong. We used the car to visit places that called to us, like the Svalbard Global Seaport, a quiet, powerful symbol nestled beneath the permafrost. Svalbard, don't look cool, we're here! I don't really handle cold well, but here we are. Look at that. Svalbard Global Seaport. I'm so blessed to be here. Before even setting foot in Svalbard, we had found our way through VisitSvalbard.com, a site that quickly became our compass to the Arctic. It's more than just a booking platform. It's a beautifully curated guide that offers not only practical advice, but a deep respect for this land and its rhythm. From seasonal overviews to local customs, from travel tips to unforgettable experiences, everything is thoughtfully laid out. So it's feeding the dogs. With the seal fat. So this side is safe to walk. It's best not to cross over here because it's 30 meters deep. And that's where we book one of our most memorable adventures. A dog sledding trip across frozen terrain, leading us all the way to a glacier. Okay, so we're gonna have lunch here inside the tent. Let's go in. All right, so we're gonna have our lunch here in this beautiful tent with everybody here. This is a pulled pork with rice. So how are we gonna do it? Just open it. The hot water. Can you see that? Am I doing correctly? Okay, we serve the spoon. Marcel told us if it's too crispy, it's not ready yet. All right. All right, it's gonna be ready in eight minutes time. You are the hero. Look at this, so beautiful. Let's go. We go the same way back. That evening, after hours of crisp air, snow covered silence and connection with the dogs, we gathered for dinner. And my friends surprised me with the kindest gifts and a quiet celebration. It was my birthday. In the middle of the afternoon, far from anything familiar, they brought a piece of home to me. Thoughtful, heartfelt, full of love. It wasn't about extravagance, but intention. In winter, the sun disappears for months. In summer, it never sets. And in that stillness, with snow outside and warmth around the table, I felt deeply blessed. Seen, celebrated, and held by the people I was lucky enough to journey with. One morning, we boarded an icebreaker and drifted toward the heart of the frozen sea. Then step off to experience what some called an ice floe landing. Walking across a solid sheet of ice suspended between water and sky. All right, let's go to the main deck. Hello, bye-bye. Hello, my name. Moments like that remind you just how raw and poetic the Arctic can feel. I wish I could say we spotted a polar bear. But when we arrived late March, just on the 8th of April, winter was already fading. Our guides explained that when the weather turns warmer and the sea ice begins to break apart, polar bears start to roam more often along the shifting coastlines. So at the end of the summer, we'll pack our things and head back to Stockholm. Leaving the Swedish house unattended. The tusks will be up to one meter long. And the tusks of walruses is like bream. Not like the tusks of elephants that don't yellow up. If spotting one of the Arctic's fluffiest legends is on your wish list, maybe don't do what I did. Good morning. As of now, the Svalbard museum is open daily from 10 a.m to 5 p.m. But I'll definitely suggest double checking the hours before your trip. Especially if you plan to pick up a few souvenirs or take in one last moment of stillness. Some activities in Svalbard can take up an entire day or even stretch across several. So by the time you return, the museum might already be closed. That's why we save it for our very last day, just before departing to Svalbard. And in the end, it became the perfect closing note. And a beautiful way to take in one last layer of Svalbard's story before saying goodbye. As someone who doesn't handle the cold well, I never imagined I'd find myself here. It took three stopovers to reach Svalbard. And honestly, it would have been easy to give up along the way. But I'm so glad I didn't. Because what I found was a world completely unlike anything I've ever known. That's why this memory feels so vivid, so lasting. It's the kind of experience I will carry with me. Not just in photos, but in feeling. And to my own quiet surprise, I've even found myself longing to return. I remember one soft moment while I was there. Sitting by a window, hands wrapped around a warm cup of coffee, gazing out at the icy horizon. I watched the locals walk slowly past, smiling gently, unbothered by the cold. And I found myself wondering, what is it about this place that makes some people want to stay for good? What is it they see or hear in the silence that the rest of us only glimpse? Maybe that's Svalbard's gift. Not a place that shouts to be remembered, but one that leaves a quiet imprint on your soul. And just like that, it becomes part of you. Today is our very last day in Svalbard. We are super grateful for all the moments that we've had. I just wish we could have a few more days to explore more of the Nordic. See ya! Bye! Thank you for being here. Until next time, take care and stay in your bliss.