“This is the worst place in the world” – 1st/2nd July 2011

Friday on Svalbard means “Friday gathering”, essentially a party for all staff and students of UNIS, which, of course, includes the sea ice summer school participants. This couldn’t have come at a better time after some particularly gruelling lectures which left many feeling really stupid. The evening was complete with slack-lining, dancing, and general fun and banter, which all made for a very entertaining night. Before you ask Dad, no I wasn’t drunk! After getting back to the barracks at 2am, I was up at 7.30 to get to lectures. For those that know me, you will all realise that 5 and half hours sleep usually doesn’t make for a happy Graham – somehow this wasn’t the case and I felt particularly awake, well until the lectures began anyway...

Following some particularly tedious lectures, the summer schools one and only free afternoon began. In traditional Svalbard style, this meant a hike, and a long hike at that! Four of us head out with the aim to reach the abandoned mining settlement of Grunzzz, a pretty challenging target according to many of those experienced in these matters. Let’s just say the hike started badly (we couldn’t figure out how to use the gun....in preparation of course), and got worse and worse with every passing minute! This time I am not exaggerating. The hike began with a river crossing; not wanting to get soaking wet feet before the hike had started, off came our boots, and into the river we went. As you would expect, the water was bloody freezing (it is glacial melt-water after all), which was made worse by the fact that slippery rocks meant carful footing was necessary at all times. River crossed, boots donned, we continued up a seemingly never-ending steep slope. Now uphill walking really is not my forte, resulting in heavy breathing and profuse sweating. My thankfulness having reached the plateau was short-lived – we soon realised our path for the next 7km or so was bog, bog, and more bog. The going was very, very hard, and when coupled with the frequent crossing of knee deep snow drifts, and numerous streams, you can understand my fatigue when reaching our target....



...only that we didn’t really reach the target. Upon reaching that valley that would take us to the abandoned settlement, it became obvious that it was just too far, and would add another 4 hours or so to our journey. Instead of traipsing back through the bog, we thought it would be clever to evolve our route so that we walked straight down a different valley which would lead us to the starting point. Sounds simple...it wasn’t! With hindsight, this was a very stupid decision. I would go into details here, but let’s just say that in order to complete the hike, scrambling on loose scree slopes, clambering on precarious and often unsafe snow drifts, and crossing raging river torrents became commonplace. I don’t think I have never been so concerned for my safety! Emotionally and physically drained, after 8 hours, ~20km, 500m elevation gain and loss, the hike in “the worst place in the world” as it was named, was finally (and thankfully) over. Despite the trials and tribulations of the hike itself, we all had a really good time – I know I haven’t laughed that much for a long time.