The Far North… These words carry something primitive and irresistible. They inspire dreams — and for a long time now, they have been calling to me. Three years after a first immersion in the wild lands of Sarek National Park, in Swedish Lapland, the desire to cross the Arctic Circle once again had become impossible to ignore.

Almost on a whim, the decision made itself: heading to Finland to explore another fragment of this world. Together with my friend Marius Simon, we set off to traverse the second largest national park in Finland: Urho Kekkonen, nestled around the 69th degree of latitude north, not far from the Russian border.

Backcountry skis on our feet, our pulkas gliding behind us, we chose to take our time — truly take our time. A slow, almost meditative pace, to savour the quietude of these vast open spaces and let ourselves be absorbed by this deeply arctic environment.
Between boreal forests frozen beneath the snow, tundra, fells and sweeping plateaus, this park revealed to us the full richness of an arctic world — raw, stripped back, and profoundly calming.

Each evening, we found shelter in isolated cabins — the wilderness huts — scattered throughout the park. Inside: the warmth of a wood stove, the crackling of the fire, and that striking contrast with the cold, silent immensity outside.
Then, one night, the sky opened and ignited. The northern lights made their appearance — a slow, colourful dance above the snow, an unexpected gift from nature, a symbol of everything the Far North holds that is beyond words.

What strikes above all else is the silence. A total silence, as if winter had absorbed every sound. Even the animals seem to hold their breath. Winter erases all noise, and leaves room for a singular sensation: that of being alone, at the heart of an untouched world.