Ambience Day 10 - Hiking and Exploring Alta

 “The only way to deal with the cold is to keep moving.”

 Knud Rasmussen, Arctic explorer

 

Morning in Port

 
Ambience spent the night in port, and this morning marked our second day in Alta.  Surprisingly, we both woke up late as the ship sat peacefully at the dock.  Despite our delayed start, once awake, we set off up on deck and discovered that a full moon shone over the fjords, the skies were clear, and the waters around us were full of birds!

Sunrise and Golden Hours

 
The weather report last night called for rain showers or a blanket of snow (depending on the final temperature) for most of the day.  As such, we had come to our tenth day on Ambience with the expectation that it would be a slower start for us.  Instead, throughout the morning, we were greeted with a glorious extended sunrise.  Given how far north we now are, these golden hours seemed to last from 8 or 9 AM until 11 AM – at which point it seemed that we quickly entered into the transition towards the evening golden hours, which were equally protracted, spanning from 1 until 3 PM.

 
The resulting soft lighting and colourful skies throughout much of the day made everything beautiful and tranquil for both of our days in Atla.
 
This morning, we spent our time on the upper jogging track watching the colours of the sky change while periodically warming up with a fresh cup of coffee from the buffet before eventually enjoying a quick breakfast.  

 
Amid this, I was watching gulls, Long-Tailed Ducks and a raft of unidentifiable birds at the front of the ship.  Stopped in port and without the strong winds of being at sea, we were also able to spend some time on 10 Forward, which was fun and even gave way to us being able to watch two of the staff washing the bridge windows. 
 

Alta Day 2 Excursion Possibilities

 
Our second day in Alta brought a fresh set of excursions, offering a blend of history, culture, and Arctic adventure that differed slightly from the day before. New to the list was the Alta and Paekatun Slate Quarry tour (£75 pp), a fascinating look at one of the region’s traditional industries set amid rugged northern landscapes. Popular options from Day 1- such as Alta Dog Carting (£199 pp) and the Sami Adventure in Maze (£109 pp) returned for those still eager to experience husky energy or Sámi culture up close. Travellers seeking a gentler pace could join the Alta Museum and Sightseeing outing (£49 pp), while history enthusiasts had the chance to explore wartime stories on the Tirpitz and WWII excursion (£69 pp), uncovering Alta’s strategic role during the conflict. And once again, hopeful sky-watchers ventured out on a Search for the Northern Lights (£150 pp), hoping for fantastic views of the Aurora Borealis.
 

Hiking and Birding the Alta River Valley

 
By 9:30 AM, we returned to our room, took quick showers to freshen up, combed our hair and brushed our teeth before heading out for the day. Amid this process, Maha, our amazing room steward, knocked and informed us that he had just heard that there were whales outside!  With this news, we quickly ran upstairs to see – but had no luck in spotting any whales.  

Regardless, we were grateful for the heads up from Maha!

 
Cleaned up and ready for the day, we disembarked at 10 AM, having decided to spend our time hiking local trails and birding the Alta River estuary and river valley.  As we stepped off Ambience, we followed a local path that wove across the front of the airport, through a small forest and along a wide sidewalk down the roadway to the river bridge. 

Amid the forest section, we discovered camping sites and small shelters that called to us, given our passion for camping and hiking.

 
The route soon led us, along pathways and sidewalks, to the Alta River, which is one of the most important in Norway.  Arriving at the river, we discovered amazing reflections of the bridge and waterway as well as a flock of mallards.

To stand alongside it, we could feel the fast-moving water rushing out to the estuary and sea. 

 
From here we wove along the shoreline of the river, through a small industrial area to a beautiful channel alongside the end of the airport runway.

 
Amid the hedges and mowed lawn, we spotted Magpies, Hooded Crows, Great Tits, Yellow Hammers (a new species for us), and Green Finches (another new species!).
 

Trekking the Alta River Valley

By late morning, we faced a simple choice: walk back toward the ship and take the shuttle into downtown, or make our own way into the city on foot. The timing would be roughly the same either way, so we chose the slower, more deliberate option. Walking into town would take about an hour and fifteen minutes, but it allowed us to follow the Alta River and its broad valley as it led us steadily toward the city centre.
 
The Alta River and its surrounding valley form one of northern Norway’s most important natural corridors, combining dramatic Arctic landscapes with deep cultural and ecological significance. Flowing from the Finnmarksvidda plateau to the Altafjord, the river is apparently known for its clear waters, braided channels, and world-class Atlantic salmon runs, which have shaped Sámi traditions, local livelihoods, and regional conservation projects.

Walking from the end of the airport runway into the city of Alta, the river revealed itself as a dynamic ribbon of turquoise water bordered by birch forests, steep valley walls, and open meadowlands.  According to online resources, the valley functions as a vital habitat for reindeer migrations, raptors, and birdlife.
 
The walk itself was pleasant, during which we passed along the edge of an industrial area, moved beyond a ski jump, and then slipped quietly into a residential neighbourhood on the edge of Alta.  Bird feeders dotted a few yards, drawing in species we hadn’t seen before, but we resisted the urge to photograph them, mindful of the privacy of the people who lived there.
 
From there, the route continued along a roadside trail, gradually opening out into lush green fields. Ultimately, what could have been a simple transit between the coastline and the city became an enjoyable trek.
 

Fungus and Mosses in the Arctic

Just after noon, not far from where the path led us back into town, we stopped beside a large rock formation covered in an intricate mix of mosses and fungi, surrounded by frosted logs, stones, and clusters of berries!

The surprise lay partly in our own expectations. In our minds, shaped by our time walking in northern Canada, we had imagined something closer to Tuktoyaktuk or the High Arctic - a stark polar barrens, sparse and windswept. Instead, what we discovered here was unexpectedly lush: trees and forests along with layers of moss and lichens clinging to rock and wood!

Apparently, as latitude increases and shrubs and flowering plants grow rarer, mosses, lichens, and fungi become ever more important. These modest organisms are the basis of tundra regions, thriving where little else can. Without true roots and with minimal nutrient demands, they endure cold and drought by slipping into dormancy, reviving quickly with even the smallest return of moisture. In doing so, they stabilize fragile soils, regulate water, store carbon, and quietly underpin Arctic food webs - roles that become critical where growing seasons are short, and margins for life are narrow.

What first appears to be a simple carpet of green and grey is, in fact, a complex and ancient ecological system – which was genuinely, unexpectedly cool to spot!

Alta Museum

 
By the time we arrived back in Alta, we realized that during our short stay we had already walked three of the region’s local trails.  As such, with limited options left for things we hadn’t already explored on foot, we decided to take the bus out to the Alta Museum.

 
The ride itself became part of the experience. The first driver seemed less than enthusiastic about dealing with our handful of change, but we were soon joined by a large group of elementary school students whose energy and chatter filled the bus. In contrast to the morning’s quiet trails, the short ten-minute ride to the museum felt lively and distinctly local.

The Alta Museum lies a few miles west of the city centre. Here, ancient rock carvings depict hunters, boats, animals, and daily life - images carved into stone more than 6,000 years ago, which are among the most significant prehistoric carvings in northern Europe.

We arrived at the Alta Museum at the same time as the ship’s excursion bus, a reminder of how closely choreographed cruise travel can sometimes be. Stepping off the city bus, the landscape was striking: a rocky shield sloping steadily down toward the waterline.

The Alta Museum and its adjacent UNESCO World Heritage Site preserve one of Northern Europe’s most extraordinary archaeological treasures: thousands of prehistoric rock carvings created by hunter-gatherer communities between 7,000 and 2,000 years ago.   An open-air site, the museum features intricately carved scenes of reindeer, bears, boats, human figures, and ritual practices, offering rare insight into the daily life, spirituality, and seasonal rhythms of early Arctic cultures. These petroglyphs were discovered in 1973 and inscribed on the UNESCO list in 1985.

Stepping inside, we approached the desk to pay admission. The interaction was brief, the gentleman at the desk was noticeably distant and uninviting. We purchased our tickets, only to be told immediately afterward that both the main exhibition and the outdoor rock-carving area were closed. A snowfall two weeks earlier had meant that the site was closed.  Despite the almost immediate thaw, the decision had been made to shutter the outside access for the season.

With little else available, we stepped out onto the back deck to take a few photographs and then made a slow circuit of the small interior space. It was a subdued visit, shaped less by what we were able to see than by what remained just out of reach.

Inside, the Alta Museum offers context on the region’s archaeology, Sámi history, glacial landscapes, and the role of the fjord in shaping human settlement over thousands of years.

The interior displays also trace Alta’s more recent past through logging and mining, and in those stories, the place felt unexpectedly similar. In many ways, Alta could just as easily have been a town in Newfoundland or Northern Ontario: similar Indigenous histories, shared reliance on extractive industries such as forestry and fishing, and the same sense of close-knit communities shaped by geography and work.

For us, it was quietly fascinating to feel such a strong connection across so many miles of ocean - to realize that despite distance, language, and national borders, northern places often have remarkably similar courses of development.

Given the size of the museum and closure of most of the site, we were soon heading back to the city centre and decided to stop at a local pub for a pint of Mack's Dark before returning to Ambience.
 

Return to Ambience

 
By 4:00 PM, we were back on board the Ambience, back in our room to shower, clean up, and reset before the evening. We headed up to the Lido for dinner, but amid the familiar chaos and occasional aggressiveness of passengers, we quickly abandoned the idea of a proper meal. I settled for what amounted to a spoonful of pasta, while Sean again made do with a small plate of crackers and cheese.  Neither was really enough to take the edge off the hunger we were feeling.

 
Afterward, we retreated to Raffles Bar, one of the ship’s quieter lounges, where we wrote our daily journal entries accompanied by the gentle live piano music that shapes the space each night. It was a welcome contrast to the bustle elsewhere on board.

 
A couple of hours later, we made our way to the Palladium Theatre to watch Radio Gaga, a high-energy tribute to 1980s British music videos, before drifting down to the Purple Turtle at 9:30 for trivia. Once again, the questions were resolutely and unapologetically hyper-British. We never expect to win, we have no hope of winning, but we enjoy our trivia all the same.

 
Trivia was followed by a session of Bingo Lingo, which proved unexpectedly fascinating, filled  once again with unfamiliar expressions (to us) and delightfully odd calls: buzzing bees, double legs, 88 as “jelly on a plate,” 22 as “two little ducks”, and 44 as “droopy drawers.”
 

Nature Excursions and the Northern Lights

While we don't normally take excursions on ships, it is worth noting that the only shore excursion we seriously considered in advance at Alta was a Northern Lights tour. Two were offered across our overnight stay, but at £150 per person, equal to roughly $300 CAD each, the cost would have totalled close to $600 for the two of us for just one evening.  Which is expensive. 

At the time of booking, we had no way of knowing that we would already have seen the aurora four times earlier in the voyage as we made our way north. There was a real concern that it would feel faintly absurd to travel from Canada to the UK and onward to Norway, drawn in part by the hope of seeing the Northern Lights, only to miss them entirely. If the only sightings occurred on these excursions and we chose not to go, we worried we would regret the decision. Clearly, many others felt the same, as the tours proved popular.

We debated the splurge more than once over the course of the voyage. In the end, both the cost and the details of the excursion itself guided our choice. The buses were listed as travelling only 15 to 30 minutes from the ship, leading us to reason that any conditions good enough to see the lights there should also make them visible from the ship or nearby shoreline. We ultimately opted not to purchase the excursion.

In hindsight, that decision worked in our favour. Cloudy conditions, rare during much of our voyage, settled in over Alta on both nights, making the aurora unlikely to be visible even for those who ventured out. It was a quiet reminder that, as with so much in the north, timing, weather, and luck matter as much as intention.

Nature Cannot Be Scheduled

 
As a result, some passengers were clearly disappointed, having interpreted the excursions as a kind of guarantee - something Ambassador Cruise Line had been explicit in stating was not the case.
 
By the next morning after departing Alta, frustration rippled through the ship. Several passengers insisted they had been “guaranteed” the Northern Lights, as though the Arctic sky operated like a stage production and the aurora were a performer who had simply failed to show up for their scheduled shift. Their disappointment was certainly real, but so was their misunderstanding that sat at the heart of the situation.  They believed that nature can be bought, packaged, or promised.

A year ago, while sailing through the fjords and channels of Alaska aboard Queen Elizabeth, this lesson had also appeared, though in a different form. There, the conversation among passengers often turned to what we quietly began to think of as “whale time” - the expectation that wildlife would appear on cue, perhaps between lunch and afternoon tea, as though the natural world operated on the same tidy schedule as the ship’s daily programme or that the captain could push a button and humpback whales appear.

Yet the whales, like the Northern Lights (or lack thereof) above Alta, had no interest in such arrangements. They surfaced when they wished, vanished when they chose, and revealed themselves only to those willing to stand patiently at the rail and watch the water. In Norway, we learned to wait in darkness for the sky to awaken. In Alaska, we learned that even when nature is abundant, it still refuses to perform on command.  Even if paying passengers expect them to.  

 
The situation proved a firm reminder that nature cannot be scheduled nor controlled.
 
Throughout the voyage to Norway, these attitudes and reactions stayed with us long after the ship sailed south. They spoke to a wider shift in how so many now experience the world, not as participants in a living landscape, but as consumers expecting programmed entertainment. People spoke of the aurora as though it were an amenity, no different than a show in the theatre or dinner in the dining room, something that should occur on command because a ticket had been purchased. Yet the truth is beautifully, stubbornly simple: nature does not run on our clocks. The Northern Lights appear when solar winds collide with the atmosphere - not when an excursion departs at 10 PM. Weather shifts without regard for itineraries. Arctic skies open or close on their own terms. And while this unpredictability frustrates some, it is precisely what makes these moments magical for those willing to step outside, look up, and embrace wonder without expectation.
 
As one person on board observed, when you take a nature excursion, you have to take a certain mental set with you and acknowledge that there are no certainties.
 
See you on deck!
 
Nautical Term for the Day: Turn the Corner - Ships rounding a headland would often find calmer seas beyond. The phrase came to mean passing a difficult phase.