Clouds wobble and mountain peaks quiver as I glide silently along the fjord, my paddle slicing through their reflections with butter-soft ease. With every stroke I slip further into a sleepy rhythm, ...

The thin skin of ice sounds like chandeliers tinkling as we slide through it, heads tucked down in the howling wind. We’re on the rim of a peak called Keipen, one of the tallest mountains on Senja, an ...