Latitude 66° 33’N

120 miles north off the Russian Arctic Circle.

By Marcin Konkel

January 21^st, 2018

Dec, 2018

We've bought the tickets to the only bus that goes through Murmansk to Teriberka - on the coast of Barents Sea. It was one of the first days when the sun wouldn't be seen on the horizon and the Artic Circle would, for the coming month or so, plunge into perpetual darkness. We were going to the often romanticised Russian far North. A place we knew was partially long abandoned and regularly inaccessible due to heavy snow or thaws. A place from which some people wanted to escape due to fallen fish processing industry and lack of work.

While others decided to move in, far away from the city, where people were somehow nicer, more supportive. The latter was a story told frequently by locals from Murmansk to Teriberka. Although the conditions were far from ideal it all made sense.

Read the full story below.

This was to be the last stop on this journey. The utmost North that we were going to reach. In the midst of cold and darkness but also an eagerness to discover we hopped on a bus in Murmansk that runs only three times a week and embarked on a three to five-hour ride (depending on the road conditions) to Teriberka. A remote village situated almost next to the Barents Sea above the Arctic Circle.

The bus was driving in total darkness with only a few moments of superficial light coming from the few, small villages that we were going through and one stop in the middle of nowhere for a toilet. In the beginning, people were chatting but, after a while, their voices went blank as if the black void sucked all energy from them and put to sleep. From time to time, the driver stopped in the middle of the road to clear the wheels from the excess of snow that was pilling up. Very few cars pass us by. There was no cell reach. If it was not for the bus as a symbol of civilisation we might consider ourselves to in the middle of nowhere. This "nowhere" frequently reminded us of its existence through blowing wind, snow and utter coldness.

In this whole drama, our driver was rather indifferent. There weren't many emotions showing on his forehead nor did they show on his mouth or around the eyes. He seemed as a typical duty man doing his thing with a maximum of three excursions there and back. There spending the night in the village and back with an accommodation in Murmansk. Living in two places throughout the week with not much to look at during the early morning or late evenings routes under the polar night sky has taken his pleasure and left him somewhat blank.

We were already in the Arctic Circle when we came to Murmansk but each kilometre made the experience even more dark, remote and inaccessible.

The Arctic Circle runs 66° 33' north of the Equator and is encompassing several countries of which Russia seems to dominate in terms of territory. Below the circle marks the northernmost point at which the noon sun is just visible on the northern winter solstice and the southernmost point at which the midnight sun is just visible on the northern summer solstice. At the same time, North of the Arctic Circle, the rule is that, during the white nights period, the sun is above the horizon for twenty-four continuous hours at least once per year (visible also at midnight) and below the horizon for twenty-four continuous hours at least once per year (not visible at noon).

I decided to travel to the Arctic Circle in the latter period starting the journey on December 2nd marking the first day when the sun is not visible at noon and the only light comes from, so called, civil twilight. I wanted to explore the harshest conditions in this region and find out how it is to live through this period. Within the circle, there aren't many large settlements or cities apart from one - Murmansk which was the last city founded in the Russian Empire. You can read more about it in my last story.

That being said, it wasn't the last stop that was planned..

- "It's a Russian tradition!" - says a voice in the kitchen as we get inside a small wooden house that is really well heated inside.

- "Ok." - answering briefly, we take small glasses with cognac poured in them.

- "Za zdarovye!" - our hosts make a toast for 'good health'.

That's how started our stay in an unusual home in Teriberka where a serendipitous encounter has led us. Locals call their village the end of the world. Some say that it's where the God ended his work. At times, it sure looked like this. The derelict wooden houses and abandoned fishing boats having long forgotten their times of prosperity were on the verge of extinction. When the industry moved to the nearby Murmansk many decades ago not much has been left. People started drinking to cope with the polar day and polar night coupled with the remoteness from other villages and cities. Old Teriberka (the South-East part of the village) is especially touched by these changes as one can see just by taking a short stroll.

Single personas can be visible in the darkness here and there with rather over representation of the older generation when you look closer. Stranded dogs with sad mouths and empty eyes were walking indifferently not even begging for food but just a bit of attention. People were kind and respectable but somehow caught in their own lives.

Our hosts seemed to be different than the average people of Teriberka. They moved here deliberately from Murmansk and Sankt Petersburg for "the romantic experience, beauty of nature and silence". They bought an old, wooden house and started a small, international hostel called "Moroshka". International to an extent as the webpage and their Instagram profile is available only in Russian language. The name itself translates to 'cloudberry' in English which stands for a herb native to cool temperates like arctic tundra. The house can accommodate four people at a time with a maximum of six when additional mattress' are put in place. The hospitable people of "Moroshka" are Tanya and Yevgeniy. An interesting couple with many stories to tell.

We came to this place as our primary accommodation had its boiler damaged which was a dealbreaker. Together with our Chinese friend from Beijing, Roma from Omsk in Russia, Dorian and myself needed find something else and ended up on the other side of the village. Later on, this company, together with our hosts, proved to be an interesting mix of personalities, humours and storytellers.

Out of the mentioned group, Roma had a really compelling story to tell. He embarked on a lonely journey from Omsk in Siberia through Sankt Petersburg and Murmansk to full-fill his dream of seeing the northern lights. He took his grandfather's high shoes made from leather, very warm and comfortable together with other elements that would help him survive in the Arctic surroundings. He also took a camera and travelled 4000 km away from home to reach Teriberka. He was our eyes hunting for aurora borealis during the evenings as we did not have much luck in seeing the full spectacle as in reportages in National Geographic. Still, thanks to Roma, we managed to catch it few times.

In Roma's home city, during the wintertime, the weather is similarly extreme. Temperatures in Omsk often fall below 30 C below zero. The only difference is with the humidity which in the Arctic Circle is much higher thus creating an impression of even lower temperature and striking you at the bone level. It does not matter how warm you dress it will get to you eventually. Similar to an unwanted and long avoided dentist visit.

Roma did also some research prior to coming to Teriberka that led us to an abandoned school in the old village. In general, Teriberka is divided into two by a river under the same name. The new and old Teriberka. The new consists mainly of socialist blocks of flats and few houses. The old one is consisting solely of wooden houses that were built a long long time ago but still function and people live in them.

In 2005 a school that functioned in the old village was transferred to the new one but much of the materials and equipment remained. Nowadays, it stands abandoned and derelict with books thrown around the floor, some windows were broken and not much light during the polar nights. We visited when it was getting dark which was a thrilling experience.

Imagine standing in a corner of an abandoned gym with most of the panels wrenched and dim light coming through the snowy windows. One of the windows is bouncing off another one from time to time. There is no one around you as your friends went on in search of new, undiscovered rooms. You stayed to take photographs. It's getting darker and the only light that you have is from your phone. Some might get goosebumps while others might find that exhilarating. I had a bit of both.

If you're interested in seeing the school in a better shape read an article here.

It's a 15-20 minutes ride from Teriberka to Arctic Ocean. When you get there the view is awe-inspiring. Standing on the shore near the famous rocky beach it was as if set of hundreds of small clouds residing on the land was running towards the sea. In the distance, a small fishing boat was wading through the cold and overwhelming mist. The faint wind was coming and going yet having a significant cooling effect making you reconsider the time you planned to stay with this view. Although, being equipped with professional and warm gloves I could, at times, hardly feel my fingers. The Barents Sea was not what I was expecting. It was more. The feeling was magnified by the notion that it's the edge of the world which sometimes has a stronger effect on you than the actual view. These moments I believe are worth risk taking and long standing hard conditions. I've read somewhere that:

"Life isn't about avoiding the bruises, it's about collecting the scars to prove we showed up for it"

Maybe you'll find it a cliché or even consider it bullshit. That's fine by me but do take into consideration that it only makes sense when you feel it after achieving a goal or a personal achievement. These things are not told, they are experienced. I find it somehow valid, especially in travelling. It leads to the extraordinary things that make a difference in your life.

Each day that we stayed in Kola Peninsula was getting shorter. The civil twilight was being narrowed by few minutes each morning slowly creeping to reach it's shortest span that was to come in late December. On our last evening in Moroshka we talked, laughed and arranged a trip back with Tanya in the morning. She was going to Murmansk anyway which would enable us to see more then in the darkness of early morning.

During our stay, I noticed that people living in tough conditions tend to be nicer to one another. They seem to appreciate more the conversations they are having and the people they are meeting. Thanks to this, new acquaintances spark more often and, maybe sometimes, they even convert to friendships. Is it out of necessity of the sheer need to interact with another person? Perhaps. Maybe the Arctic influences one's life choices so much that it does not let him or her go leaving the person bound to live here indefinitely. Perhaps it's out of the necessity to survive and lack of company to choose from. I tend to believe it's the people's choice on how to live their live and that the people I met along the way just good, honest people. Those that come here from the South also open up. At least some, at least a bit.