Our first and last days in Ilulissat were spent hiking in the hills around town. Ranging from 2.7 to 7 kilometres in length, the trails wind along the coastline and take you above the icefjord, which spawned the iceberg that sank the Titanic back in 1912.
Having already gone on a cruise amongst the icebergs, which were occasionally so large you had to crane your neck to see where they touched the sky, I wasn't expecting to be surprised by the view. After all, what could possibly beat being next to one of those giants?
Short answer: plenty.
Long answer:
It is the way the turf feels - it crunches underfoot, but there is a springiness that makes it easy for you to hop from spot to spot. It is the juxtaposition of the smooth grey boulders against the blinding jaggedness of the ice field. It is the peace - for there aren't any other hikers around - broken only by the distant rumbles as the ice cracks and fissures.
As you round a bend, the sweeping vista of the icefjord comes into view. Here, the ice is so densely packed that you can't even see the water it is floating on. Fishermen that venture this far up the fjord have to be alert because the shifting landscape means that their exit route could end up blocked.
A four hour hike easily turned into six because I just had to keep stopping - often for no reason but to gaze, in silent awe, at the sheer wonder of Nature.
I hope you enjoy the photos... although they really do the place no justice!
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