The Arctic is often associated with a harsh, unforgiving atmosphere, and rightly so. The moment you land, it becomes clear: this is not a place for those who crave a lavish lifestyle. There’s no such thing as ordering from Amazon and having it delivered the next day. Everything here is limited. You quickly learn to live with less, and in doing so, realize how little you truly need to be happy.

In our last post, we visited Longyearbyen, home to just around 2,400 people. Now, we’re sailing toward somewhere even more remote, a secluded settlement with only 300 residents, three restaurants, one tiny grocery store, and yes, a delightfully charming little gift shop.

But don’t worry! This isn’t a tale of Raskolnikov being exiled to the icy edge of the world for hard labor. This will be a different kind of story… one that gives us a glimpse into the Soviet past, still echoing in the Arctic chill. Are you ready? Hoist the sails… Let’s go!

Our journey began on a crisp morning in Longyearbyen. The weather was unexpectedly pleasant. Not too cold, just warm enough to feel snug in our snow jackets. Our Russian guide, a warm and knowledgeable local from Saint Petersburg, picked us up from the hotel and brought us to the Longyearbyen harbor, where our Arctic voyage would begin.

Originally, we had set our sights on Pyramiden, the other Soviet-era settlement on Svalbard. But the fjord leading to it remains frozen until late May, making access impossible this time of year. So instead, we turned our compass toward Barentsburg.

As you sail across the Arctic Ocean, you’ll be treated to some of the most breathtaking views. Though the open deck may be chilly as you’re out on the water, the stunning sights will warm your heart and transport you to a dreamlike state.

Along the way, we were in for an unexpected spectacle. A dramatic rescue training exercise, performed by two Norwegian helicopters, showcased rescuers landing on the boat and lifting people from the boat to the helicopter. It was an unforgettable display that captivated us all.

After a few hours of sailing through the frozen waters of the Arctic, we reached our first destination: the Esmark Glacier. Stretching 15 kilometers across Oscar II Land on the island of Spitsbergen, this glacier is a breathtaking reminder of the raw, untamed beauty of the Arctic landscape. If you’re lucky, you might spot walruses lounging on the ice or even a polar bear in the distance. In our case, we were greeted by three walruses basking in the cold, seemingly content after perhaps a hearty meal.

It’s remarkable how these creatures can relax on the ice after diving into the frigid Arctic waters, while we were bundled up and still shivering against the sharp winds. Still, there’s nothing quite like enjoying a freshly grilled barbecue lunch on the boat, followed by a steaming cup of tea on the open deck, surrounded by silence and solitude in one of the most remote corners of the Earth.

We departed Longyearbyen at 9 a.m. and reached Barentsburg around 2 in the afternoon. Catching our first sight of the town from afar was genuinely thrilling. It felt like stepping closer to a place suspended in time. “Вас Баренцбург Приветствует” (Barentsburg welcomes you)!

The moment I set foot in Barentsburg, I instantly fell in love with the town. It’s small, perhaps even tiny but it holds everything one needs to feel at peace. When our boat docked at the harbor, we were greeted by a warm and welcoming Russian guide. As it turned out, we were the first visitors to arrive by boat since the long Polar night had ended. With a light rain falling around us, she led us through the quiet streets, sharing stories of the town, and a bit of her own as we walked and talked.

It seems that nearly every city in Russia shares one defining feature: a Lenin Street leading to a statue or bust of Vladimir Lenin, and Barentsburg is no exception. Here, a modest square behind the monument quietly echoes the grandeur of Soviet times, bearing the bold inscription: “Наша цель – коммунизм!” (“Our goal is Communism!”).

Barentsburg was originally founded by the Dutch in 1920, named after the Dutch explorer Willem Barentsz. However, it became a Soviet settlement when it was sold to the Soviet Union in 1932. Since then, it has been operated by the Russian state-owned company Arktikugol, which manages coal mining activities there.

The settlement is often described as a “living Soviet museum.” Many buildings, murals, and slogans still reflect the Soviet aesthetic and ideology.

If you’re planning to visit Barentsburg, there are three main ways to get there from Longyearbyen; by boat, snowmobile, or helicopter depending on the season. The town offers two accommodation options: the Pomor Hostel and the more upscale Hotel Barentsburg, which features rooms with views of the fjord. Although we spent just under two hours exploring the town, it was enough to absorb its unique atmosphere. Still, I believe staying for a few days would offer a far deeper appreciation of life in the Arctic, and what it means to live in a place shaped by its Soviet past.

As we toured the town, it was impossible not to spot a faint light flickering across the fjord from a solitary cabin. There’s a touching story behind that light. The water supply for Barentsburg comes from a waterfall across the fjord, transported through underwater pipes. To ensure everything runs smoothly, two people live in that remote cabin for six months at a time, with only the most basic necessities and a communication device to stay in touch with the settlement. They are known as the “Robinson Crusoes of Barentsburg.” If you’ve ever wondered where you could find a place lonelier than the town itself, that cabin would be it. A quiet, isolated refuge with only the sounds of the wild and the glow of the distant light.

In the vast expanse of the Arctic, solitude transforms into a tender kind of freedom.

One place I highly recommend for a drink or a slice of indulgent Russian dessert is the cozy restaurant and bar on the first floor of Hotel Barentsburg. Here, you can savor Napoleon, Russia’s signature cake, while being enveloped by the stunning beauty of the Arctic fjords. There’s no better setting to enjoy this sweet treat than with the soft rhythm of raindrops tapping against the windows, the quiet solitude of the landscape stretching out before you.

And just like that, another adventure comes to an end. Barentsburg has taught me more than I could have imagined. I’ve come to understand that solitude isn’t the same as being alone, that having little doesn’t mean being poor, and that living in the harshest of environments doesn’t make you unfortunate. I’m sure each person here carries a story of their own, one I wish I could have heard while waking each morning to the untouched beauty of the Arctic stretching out before me. So long, Barentsburg. I hope our paths will cross again, and until they do, you’ll remain a piece of my heart, forever bathed in the light of the Arctic’s raw charm.