Chasing the Northern Lights on New Year's Day

There are moments in travel that become so vivid they feel frozen in time. For me, one of those moments happened on January 1, 2026.

Just hours earlier, I had been celebrating my sister Sammy's 30th birthday in Hamburg with one of my best friends from college, Doug. We spent New Year's Eve surrounded by friends old and new, raising champagne glasses, swapping stories, and dancing our way into 2026. The night flew by, and before we knew it, it was time to leave. Rather than getting a few hours of sleep, we went straight from the New Year's Eve party to the airport, running almost entirely on adrenaline, excitement, and perhaps one too many celebratory drinks.

As the plane climbed into the winter sky, the celebrations of the night before already felt distant. Below us, Europe slowly disappeared beneath a blanket of clouds. A few hours later, the landscape outside the window transformed into something entirely different. Jagged mountain peaks rose from frozen fjords. Snow-covered islands stretched endlessly into the horizon. The farther north we traveled, the more it felt as though we were leaving the familiar world behind and entering a place governed by ice, sea, and darkness.

Tromsø sits more than 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle and, in early January, remains in the heart of Polar Night. Contrary to what the name suggests, Polar Night is not complete darkness. For several hours each day, the sun lingers just below the horizon, creating a prolonged twilight known as the "blue hour." The entire landscape glows in shades of deep blue, lavender, and pink, casting a dreamlike light across the mountains and fjords. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.

After checking into our hotel and spending the afternoon exploring Tromsø's snow-covered streets, I made a spontaneous decision that would define the entire trip. On a whim, I searched for Northern Lights tours and found a single remaining spot on a small-group excursion with Arctic Explorers. Without overthinking it, I booked it.

It turned out to be one of the best travel decisions I've ever made.

Before our van had even left Tromsø, faint ribbons of green began appearing overhead. Our guide smiled and said, "That's a good sign." For many visitors, seeing the aurora requires days of patience and luck. Somehow, on my very first day in Northern Norway, the sky had already begun to cooperate.

As we drove west toward the islands surrounding Sommarøy, the display grew stronger. The lights stretched across the horizon like flowing rivers of green silk. They twisted, danced, and pulsed overhead in ways that photographs never quite capture. Cameras can freeze a moment, but they can't convey the movement or the feeling of standing beneath a sky that appears alive.

Eventually, we arrived at a secluded beach known only to the guides. Snow covered the shoreline, and icy waves gently rolled onto the sand. While the aurora shimmered above us, our guide built a fire and served hot chocolate alongside traditional reindeer stew. There we sat, a small group of travelers from around the world gathered around a fire on an Arctic beach on the first night of a new year.

As we warmed our hands by the flames, our guide shared stories that people in Northern Norway have told for generations.

One tale comes from Norse mythology and tells of the Valkyries, the legendary female warriors who escorted fallen heroes to Valhalla. As they rode across the heavens, the reflections from their shining armor and shields illuminated the sky, creating the dancing lights seen from below. Watching the aurora ripple across the darkness, it wasn't difficult to imagine warriors racing through the clouds.

Another story comes from the Sami people, the Indigenous inhabitants of northern Scandinavia. Many Sami believed the lights were powerful spiritual beings and should be treated with respect. Whistling at the aurora or waving toward it was considered unwise, as doing so might attract the lights closer to you. Children were often taught to remain calm and respectful whenever the lights appeared overhead.

A third Norwegian legend tells of the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge connecting Earth to Asgard, the realm of the gods. Some believed the Northern Lights were reflections from that celestial bridge as gods and heroes traveled between worlds. Standing beneath the glowing sky, surrounded by snow and silence, it felt easy to understand how these stories endured for centuries.

Of course, modern science offers a different explanation, though no less fascinating.

The Northern Lights begin nearly 93 million miles away on the surface of the Sun. During solar activity, charged particles are released into space and travel toward Earth at incredible speeds. When those particles collide with Earth's magnetic field, they are funneled toward the poles and interact with gases high in the atmosphere.

The colors we see depend on which gases are being struck and at what altitude. Green, the most common aurora color, is produced when charged particles collide with oxygen molecules roughly 60 to 150 miles above Earth's surface. Red auroras occur even higher in the atmosphere, while purple and blue tones result from interactions with nitrogen.

One of my favorite aurora facts is that the lights are actually happening all the time. Even during the day, auroral activity may be occurring above us. We simply can't see it because sunlight is too bright. Another fascinating fact is that Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune all experience their own versions of the Northern Lights. Aurora displays aren't unique to Earth; they're a phenomenon found throughout our solar system.

As the evening continued, the lights intensified. At times they stretched from horizon to horizon. At others they swirled directly overhead, creating patterns that seemed almost choreographed. The beach grew quiet as everyone simply sat and watched.

I remember stepping away from the group for a few minutes and looking out across the dark Arctic Ocean. The only sounds were the crackling fire behind me and the gentle waves against the shore. Above me, curtains of green light drifted across the sky.

It was January 1st. The first day of a new year. The first day of a trip I had dreamed about for years.

And somehow, before the adventure had truly even begun, Northern Norway had already given me a memory that would become one of my favorite travel experiences of all time.