We descended from the sky at a tangent to the ice covered mountains and found ourselves in a white world. All the colours seemed to have silently withdrawn from sight, leaving nothing but white. A welcome reception was being held on the plane. Our adventure was about to begin, and we were smiling, as yet aware of the extreme conditions we would be facing. The flight from Copenhagen to Greenland had taken six hours. This was one of the most interesting trips of my life, and my mind was whirling with excitement. We were not going to land in any ordinary European city. Completely unfamiliar experiences awaited us. While preparing for the journey in Copenhagen, I had called in at the Greenpeace office for information. They gave me an armful of brochures filled with information. Reading these during the flight, I learnt that Greenland is the largest island in the world; that it lies off the northeast of North America; that there are two international airports, one at Nuuk, the capital city, and the other at Kangerlussuaq; and that it has an area of 2,175,000 square kilometres but a population of only 57,000.

Now the real thing was in sight, the brochures lost their fascination. I put my nose to the window and watched Greenland come nearer as the plane dropped lower. We were flying over a landscape that was white as far as the eye could see. When we landed on the snowy runway at Kangerlussuaq, the flight crew told us that the temperature outside was minus 18 degrees Centigrade, which for Greenland was spring weather. As I disembarked the cold struck me sharply in the face. Kangerlussuaq is a tiny town with a population of one hundred. It has a post office, a bar, and two single-star hotels, one at the airport and one in town. From here those arriving for skiing holidays disperse to their different resorts. I settled into the hotel in the town. I quickly got used to the cold, only my hands and face never seeming to get warm. During a short walk around the town I soon realised that going out without sunglasses was not a good idea. The dazzling white everywhere made my eyes ache. I returned to the hotel to get some sleep. I would be setting out for Ilulissat the next day, and needed to rest.

The coil of rope was 650 metres long, and every three or four metres a huge hook that would barely fit into the palm was attached. To each hook was threaded a piece of the small fish used as bait for large fish like tuna and skate. We spent the night on the sleds beneath a canopy of walrus skin and returned early the next morning. To have seen that white vastness of snow and ice was exciting, but I longed to return to a warm hotel room and a hot bath. That taste of life in the northern wastes had been quite enough.

* Seçil Dinler is a photographer and freelance writer.