Inuit Spring of Ammassalik

Into the White: A Journey Through East Greenland

There are two unmistakable markers that separate the Arctic from the Antarctic: the Inuit people and the polar bear. You won't find either in the south. This journey took us to Greenland—the world’s largest island—where we explored its remote eastern coastline. It’s a vast, scarcely populated region, and our first landing was the village of Tasiilaq, the largest community in the area, home to just 2,000 people.

As we approached, the fog and Arctic wind veiled the land in mystery. Then, through the mist, we saw them—clusters of brightly colored houses clinging to the slopes like a painting come to life. It was a striking welcome.

Here, people still live directly from the land and sea, practicing traditional ways of life through fishing and hunting. Dried fish and seal meat hang outside homes. Polar bear skins, while rarer, are not unheard of. It’s a raw, real existence, shaped by the rhythms of the Arctic.

May is springtime in the Ammassalik Fjord region, a place rich in polar history. French explorers like Commandant Charcot and Paul-Émile Victor made repeated journeys here. Victor was just 27 when he began his expeditions—an age that now feels especially significant as we follow in his footsteps.

Polar raid

One of the goals on this trip was a two-day polar raid—a mini-expedition across the ice cap, in prepartion of the longer Arctic Circle Trail next February. We traveled with pulkas, wearing mini-skis fitted with seal skins for traction, and aimed to reach the end of the Qenertivartivit Fjord, a 12-kilometer trek into the heart of Arctic wilderness. The landscapes were staggering—untouched, elemental, and carved by ice over millennia. Wind-swept and remote, this was nature at its most extreme and captivating.

The raid served as a rehearsal: testing gear, refining camp logistics, and adapting to life in the cold. We set off in the Arctic fog, a slight wind tugging at our jackets. As the weather cleared, the vastness ahead became visible—beautiful and daunting. Every hour, we broke for 10 minutes, snacking on my go-to Cliff bars, and keeping a close eye on the rifle strapped to the pulka—we were deep in polar bear territory now.

We encountered hunters along the way, traveling with traditional sledges and their impressive teams of Greenlandic dogs. It felt like a step back in time, witnessing a way of life that has endured here for generations.

Testing new camp gear was part of the mission. I was especially satisfied with the Sea to Summit inner thermal layer, and the provided Polar Ranger sleeping bag was very comfy, as well as my Rab’s fleece boots. The Exped inflatable mattress, however, was too thin for true Arctic comfort—something to improve before future trips. On the food front, I lucked out with the dehydrated Pasta Bolognese (that signature orange Expedition Foods pack), but not everything passed the taste test. The tartiflette Savoyarde? Definitely not a repeat. Breakfast options were another low point—better planning needed there.

My Stanley Classic thermos performed flawlessly, even in sub-zero temperatures. It’s actually the same model used by Inuit hunters—but its 1.5-liter capacity wasn't enough. A 2-liter backup is now on my packing list.

On our way back to base camp, we crossed paths with more local hunters and were fortunate enough to hitch a ride for the last few kilometers. The pulka trailed behind the sled, bumping over the ice—a truly local experience and a fitting end to our Arctic journey.

The trip lasted ten unforgettable days. We were lucky, too—one afternoon to spot a polar bear from a safe distance. “Nanuk,” they call it here. The mighty Polar Bear, ruler of the Arctic ecosystem, reminded us of exactly where we were: at the edge of the world, in a land both brutal and breathtaking. Can you spot it on the picture ?