There are probably more glamorous ways to begin a Nordic adventure than squeezing onto a packed Ryanair flight from London Stansted, but that is exactly how this two-week, once-in-a-lifetime trip started. My sister Nyeema and I were fairly sure the airline had added extra seats since our last flight. Still, there we were, two British sisters setting off on a girls-only holiday that would take us through Greenland, Iceland and Norway – from the deliberately non-luxurious to the seriously expensive, with an extraordinary amount packed in between.
By the end, we could describe each destination in just three words. For Nyeema, Nuuk was “remote, dystopian and mesmerising”; I chose “sci-fi, raw and out-of-this-world”. Reykjavík? She said “charming, colourful and vibrant”; I went for “fresh-fishy, stunning and commercial”. Norway? “Picturesque, historic and rainy,” according to my sister; for me, “luxurious, fairytale and quality”. Those words turned out to say more about our journey than we realised.
Greenland: raw beauty, geopolitical spotlight
After a quick stopover in Copenhagen, we headed to Nuuk, Greenland’s capital, arriving to a spectacular bright daytime sky after midnight and a landscape that felt unlike anywhere else. There is something almost otherworldly about Greenland – the scale, silence, water and mountains, punctuated by tiny splashes of colourful buildings, can make you feel as though you have landed on a film set... or the moon.
Filmmakers have already discovered it. Borgen: Power & Glory, starring Sidse Babett Knudsen, put Greenland at the heart of a story about resources, Denmark and competing global interests in the Arctic. Watching the real Greenland, those themes suddenly seem less fictional. Because one man seemed to be everywhere we went: Donald Trump.
We had travelled to Greenland expecting to talk about landscapes, ice, culture and Arctic tourism. Instead, the US President’s name followed us around Nuuk – in restaurants, shops, museums, and conversations with people we met. Everybody seemed to have an opinion. Some believed Trump’s repeated interest in taking control of Greenland had inadvertently done the country a favour, bringing attention that could ultimately benefit tourism. A few were surprisingly relaxed, even saying they didn’t particularly care if America took over. Most, however, hated the idea. What fascinated me was that a US president thousands of kilometres away had become part of the everyday experience of travelling through Greenland.
We met Alice Burton, a former Head of Press Section at the US Embassy in Vienna, in our shared accommodation, who became a partial travel companion. She had been hearing similar things from locals. “Nuuk is the most quiet capital I’ve ever visited,” she told me. There are few cars, little honking, hardly any sirens and remarkably few people on the streets. “A world in itself,” Alice reflected. Yet politically, Greenland now feels anything but isolated. Official tourism research estimated that just over 149,000 international tourists visited Greenland in 2024, with almost two-thirds arriving by cruise ship. Nuuk’s international airport is meanwhile transforming access to the capital. For a destination with a population of fewer than 60,000 people, those numbers really matter.
What tourists don’t necessarily see is the strong “them and us” relationship between Greenlanders and the Danes. Along with Donald Trump, the divide surfaced in conversations with people we met unprompted, and in the way some Greenlanders spoke about Denmark, language, history and identity. These individuals are not a measure of wider public opinion, but the sense of separation was striking – especially in the museums we visited. Rather than presenting a sanitised Arctic idyll, Nuuk’s cultural institutions openly explore Greenland’s complicated relationship with Denmark. Alice, Nyeema and I were all struck by Nuna, an exhibition at Nuuk Art Museum examining land, identity and Greenland’s relationship with outside powers. At its entrance was a message requiring little explanation: “Greenland is not for sale”.
Talk to people and another Greenland emerges – a society having its own conversation about identity, autonomy and Denmark while simultaneously confronting extraordinary new interest from the outside world. Climate change, military security, natural resources, Indigenous identity, tourism and the interests of global powers increasingly collide here. And yet everyday life carries on around the geopolitical noise. On the water, there are bright blue mini-icebergs drifting past the harbour, a reminder of the natural forces at play. The EU has recently pledged €200 million to Greenland as von der Leyen counters US pressure, and Brussels is racing to update its Arctic strategy as competition intensifies. For travellers, the raw beauty is undeniable, but so is the sense of a place caught in a larger struggle.
Iceland: tourism-savvy and commercial
From Nuuk, we flew to Reykjavík, a city that felt like a different world. Iceland has long mastered the art of tourism, and it shows. The capital is charming and colourful, with a vibrant food scene – we sampled fresh fish and, at the Three Coats restaurant, Alice even tried whale steak. But the commercialisation is hard to ignore. Everywhere you turn, there are tours, souvenir shops and Instagram-friendly spots. The famous Gullfoss waterfall in Blaskogabyggo, on the Hvita river, is spectacular, but you’re never alone. Iceland’s tourism infrastructure is efficient, but it can feel a bit like a well-oiled machine, designed to cater to the masses. For us, it was a stark contrast to Greenland’s raw, unpolished charm.
Norway: luxury and fairytale quality
Our final stop was Norway, and here the trip took a turn towards the luxurious. We stayed in a high-end hotel in Bergen, with views of the colourful wooden houses and the fjords beyond. The weather was rainy, as my sister noted, but that only added to the atmosphere. Norway’s landscapes are breathtaking – think fairytale villages, dramatic mountains and pristine waters. The quality of everything, from the food to the service, was impeccable. It was a fitting end to our journey, a reminder that the Arctic can be experienced in vastly different ways. From roughing it in Nuuk to indulging in Norway’s finest, we had seen three countries that, despite their proximity, offer three very different relationships with tourism – one thrust into the geopolitical spotlight, one tourism-savvy, and one that simply dazzles with its natural and man-made beauty.
As we flew back to London, we reflected on our three-word summaries. They had captured not just the places, but the essence of our journey – a journey that took us from the edge of the world to the heart of luxury, and left us with memories that will last a lifetime.
