2019-11-01 In The Moment

Clockwise from left: Senja's rugged landscape from the 659-m

peak of Barden; fjords and inlets weave across the island; Sarah

takes a moment to soak up Senja's golden sunshine.

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100 CalmMoment.com

M

y mind was simultaneously on

overdrive and go-slow. There

was awesome everywhere:

the landscapes here were 2 4/7,

3 60-degree, high-definition nature

at its finest – silent and spectacular. There was no

single direction – or even time of day – in which to

look for the best; every hour and angle provided a

postcard view. I was overwhelmed by it, drowning

in fjords and snow-peaks and white-sand beaches; in

seas the colour of the Caribbean and cliffs streaked by

ribboning waterfalls; in headlands busy with seabirds

and skerries strewn as liberally as a millionaire’s

loose change. It was almost too much. And yet,

despite this round-the-clock bombardment

• by beauty rather than buzzing phones and bulging
  inboxes – I also felt supremely calm.
  Natural light is good for us: it boosts vitamin D,
  improves our sleep and can even ward off seasonal
  depression. Moving about in green and blue spaces
  is known to be good for us too, not only able to boost
  physical fitness but to enhance our mood. So, a week-
  long midsummer walking trip in wild and unspoiled
  far-north Norway, under the midnight sun, promised
  to be better than any prescription.
  I’d come to Senja, Norway’s second-largest island,
  located well inside the Arctic Circle and a little north
  of the better-known Lofoten Islands, which are
  undeniably dramatic but increasingly overcrowded.

Less-visited Senja would, I hoped, provide the drama

and the daylight, the picturesque fjords and the

traditional fishing villages, the walking trails and the

welcoming hotels, as well as a complete escape from

the rat race – and most other people.

Certainly, there was no one else around as I started

a walk up Barden, a broad 6 59m-high peak rising

vertically from the ocean on the north of the island.

As birds twittered, a stream gabbled and the sun

shone, I had real spring in my step – for the joy of

nature and for the literal bounce of the mossy bogland

around Barden’s base. I’m not sure my nostrils have

ever felt so thrilled to be breathing. The crisp,

unsullied air was a pleasure to drink in as the climb

started to steepen over sprigs of heather and lichen-

smeared rocks.

After an hour or so, and just shy of the summit,

a large and untrodden patch of snow barred the way;

not unusual for the time of year. It would have been

foolhardy to try to go further. Perhaps on another day,

in another place, I might have been slightly annoyed

to be thwarted so close to the top. But not here.

I could still see one of the country’s – and perhaps the

world’s – great views: a slalom of craggy mountains,

bending hither and thither ahead, with inlets

• Mefjord and Øyfjord – sparkling on either side.
  Directly below was another scoop of snow and a calm
  tarn – a mountain lake – cupped by the peaks. I sat
  on a boulder and did nothing for quite some time,

escaping