A Day in Longyearbyen, the World’s Northernmost Town

The capital of Norway’s Svalbard archipelago marches to the beat of a different drum.

The town of Longyearbyen in Norway. Frizi/iStock/Getty Images

When you arrive in Longyearbyen for the very first time, you can’t quite believe your eyes. There’s no place on earth that looks anything like it. Surrounded by a vast Arctic wilderness and many unbroken stretches of preserved and protected land, the world’s northernmost town sits on a protected harbor ringed by snow-capped mountains. But when you get a little closer, things look undeniably industrial.

Disembarking from an expedition ship, I very quickly encountered the explanation for the grittiness. One of the first sights on my walking tour? A huge coal plant, complete with smokestacks and shafts leading off to various places. “For centuries here,” the guide explained, “it’s always been coal.”

Guests of an expedition cruise ship disembark in Longyearbyen for a walking tour. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

While production is way down from its peak, signs of this legacy are everywhere, including a now-disused cable car system that once ferried coal down to ships on the water. But here’s the thing about Svalbard: Despite a hardscrabble history, big-time beauty is around every corner.

Proceeding up a hill away from the water, a group of reindeer peered down on us, like they’d been plucked from Santa’s workshop and dropped right there. A rather unbelievable encounter in many places, maybe. But just another day here on Spitsbergen.

Finding Svalbard

Set at 78 degrees north, Longyearbyen, the capital of Svalbard, is roughly halfway between the Arctic Circle and the North Pole, each about 800 miles away. That makes it the world’s northernmost community, with a population of about 1,700.

Svalbard is an archipelago of nine main islands. Spitsbergen, the largest, is home to the two largest communities: Longyearbyen and Barentsburg, the latter a town of about 450 that was long run by the Soviet Union. Its core remains a Russian state-owned company. Some expedition ships stop here to see the bust of Lenin and walk around town, but mine didn’t.

The now-abandoned former Russian settlement Pyramiden in Svalbard has become grazing territory for local reindeer. Christian Aslund/Getty Images

Because of its extreme location, Svalbard wasn’t on the map until quite late in the course of human history. Although some assert that the Norse came here earlier, most agree that Dutch explorer Willem Barentsz (or William Barents) discovered these rocky, glacier-covered islands in 1596.

He was seeking the legendary Northeast Passage to Asia. But his voyage didn’t end well; on the return journey, his ship became locked in the ice. Trapped, Barentsz’s crew was repeatedly attacked by polar bears and beset by scurvy. Barentsz died at sea in 1597.

The Wild West of the Far North

Over the next few hundred years, Svalbard remained a sort of Wild West of the Far North, with the brave and sometimes desperate facing isolation and difficult conditions. Today, it’s a popular destination for upscale expedition ships, with guests on the decks capturing wildlife and wild beauty with their long-lens cameras. But this archipelago’s history was undeniably forged in grit, blood, and sweat.

First, people voyaged to this remote place for the whales. In centuries past, whale oil was an extremely valuable commodity, lighting lamps and illuminating homes and businesses all around the world. But as these beautiful, intelligent creatures became scarce in closer waters, whalers from England, the Netherlands, and other countries were forced to hunt further afield. They set up stations on Svalbard starting in the 17th century.

Longyearbyen is located on the island of Spitsbergen. Krzysztof Flasza/iStock/Getty Images

(Left) Coal mining was once the main industry in Longyearbyen. The ruins of an old mine, with a memorial plaque in the foreground honoring those who lost their lives while working the mine. (Right) Just outside Longyearbyen lies the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, a secure seed storage facility meant to preserve a collection of the world's crop diversity in case of a catastrophic loss. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

Next, people came to mine the coal. In the heart of Longyearbyen, the Svalbard Museum—part of the University Centre—is full of useful information. You can spend the whole day here. Among many other things, the displays detail the progression of the coal industry and how it shaped politics and sovereignty here.

Several powerful nations had interests in Svalbard. But it was an American, John Munro Longyear, who had the greatest success when he started his Arctic Coal Company in 1906. (The town now bears his name.) Still, the museum notes, the challenges were formidable, and chief among them, “Svalbard, a no-man’s land, had no laws. ... mining communities without a police force could do little to subdue troublemakers and hooligans.”

A Land of Its Own

Joint rule by a number of countries was a popular option for a while. But the Svalbard Treaty of 1920 gave sovereignty of the archipelago to small, neutral Norway. Today, the archipelago is in a truly unique political situation. While part of the Kingdom of Norway, Svalbard operates somewhat autonomously.

Part of an old coal mine and its cable car system that transported coal to ships down below. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

(Left) A replica of an old cabin, inside the Svalbard Museum. (Right) Models of native animals such as polar bears, arctic foxes, and arctic birds on display at the Svalbard Museum. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

Taxes are much lower than on the mainland. Liquor is rationed. The government doesn’t require visas for those who want to work and live here. It’s a true frontier mentality—if you’re able to support yourself, come here and give it your very best. That isn’t easy, with many months of complete darkness in the winter and temperatures that can rarely be described as “balmy.”

Which, of course, makes Longyearbyen a fascinating place. More than 50 nationalities make up the small population. Walking down the street, you might pass an adventure guide from Spain, a miner from Sweden, and a whole bunch of parka-clad American and British passengers off an expedition ship.

The abiding axiom is that you can’t be born here or die here. The former because of the somewhat limited medical facilities. The latter because it’s impossible to bury a body into permafrost, ice just below the surface that never melts, making decomposition impossible.

The tour took me to a “seaman’s church,” with a large lounge where people drink coffee and socialize. Then, I descended down into the town center. Dark ridges rise on each side, some buttressed with avalanche fences. The heart of Longyearbyen is actually quite attractive—in that rugged, northern way—the main street lined with well-maintained, multi-colored buildings.

A picturesque seaman's church in front of snow-topped mountains. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

The altar, decorated with colorful art, is illuminated by a nearby stained glass window. Courtesy of Swan Hellenic

I toured the gleaming, well-stocked supermarket, visited the big, stuffed polar bear in a hotel lobby, and had lunch (nothing exotic—just a burger and fries) in a comfortable restaurant. After a visit to the museum, it was back to the ship.

The wilderness awaited. Whales and seals and even walruses. Plus, of course, so many polar bears. Some of them were wandering around just outside of this truly unique and captivating town.