Arctic Circle Trail: Day 8

The gloomy forecast is for rain all day, but I’ve not come to Greenland to sit in a hostel lounge peering out through a window. My plan is to take a boat to the abandoned village of Assaqutaq and hike six miles back along the coast.

Paul, the skipper, is waiting for me at the harbour. A huge guy. Shaking hands, it’s as if my hand is encased in concrete. I was expecting a tiny, freezing open boat, not a lovely warm cabin. His other boats are being repaired — an echo of the school bus on my first day.

I pepper him with questions on the half hour trip. Unfortunately, the last whales were seen in the area about two weeks ago. I also ask about the huskies. Their numbers have halved in the past 20 years. This is partly due to climate change as the lack of sea ice means that hunters and fishermen can no longer use dogsleds. The other reason is the higher cost of keeping dogs compared to a snowmobile. He owns 15 dogs and is planning an application for a UNESCO protected site for over a hundred. I wish him well.

The last inhabitants left Assaqutaq in the 1970s when people were forced to move to the larger towns. A few bright red huts are maintained for primary school summer camps, so there’s a welcoming committee of small children on the jetty, all keen to practice their English. I chat for a while before ascending the small hill at the western end of the island.

The mist has rolled in. It’s cold, damp and suitably atmospheric.

After exploring for an hour, I leave the village across a fun bridge, albeit missing a few planks.

There’s a steep rope climb. At the top, I grab on to some roots to pull myself over the last ledge.

It takes a little while to find the start of the trail, marked by a blue circle on the rocks. It’s rough underfoot, with some early scrambling, not helped by the rain which has arrived to make the rocks slippery.

I lose the path a few times, having to cut up to the cliffs or down to the sea to find it again. You can’t actually see it until you’re on it.

I’ve taken a branch off the main path down to a tiny beach, having to navigate a deep bog and soaking one boot in the process. There’s no way forward from here, so I’ll need to backtrack through that bog again.

The good news is discovering a tiny hut perched on the edge of the cliff. There’s a pencil running vertically through a clasp securing the door, which I remove. Unfortunately, there is no door handle. The wind and rain are blowing hard, making my fingers cold. I insert the pencil into the latch and turn it. The door opens and I tumble in.

What a fine hut with dramatic views across the bay — the very definition of a sanctuary. I strip off my wet gear and unpack my stove.

How can such a simple meal taste this good? Sipping hot coffee, gazing out at the sea as the rain lashes against the windows, I wonder how the Fellowship are faring out on the trail in this awful weather.

I’m reluctant to leave the comfort of the hut and venture back out into the rain. There are no views — simply rocks and mist. It’s too wet for any more photos as my phone is soaked.

The path is marked with red and blue circles. I assume red indicates a more challenging route although it’s not clear. Sometimes there are alternative routes and other times I can only see one path. My progress is horribly slow as I’m being extra careful not to slip and fall. This is no place to pick up an injury as I’ve not seen another person.

My poles are more a hindrance than a help, scrambling over rocks and boulders. There are several gullies to navigate, including two descents where I simply throw my poles down to the bottom and climb down. Both climbs are marked red, and I only spot a blue arrow for an alternative route once I reach the bottom.

Several hours later, I’m grateful to make it to the cultural centre for coffee. My base layer is damp but not wet. Only my hands are feet are cold. The rest of me is warm enough, so I’ll put that down as a success for my gear. It’s taken me six hours to hike six miles, mainly due to the atrocious weather conditions. I think I deserve a hot shower, beer, and then a rest day tomorrow.