Just after 6 a.m. in early August, a family of four boards a train northward from Boden, Sweden—a town where the mother grew up and where her sister still resides. Their journey crosses the Arctic Circle at 8 a.m., marked by a modest sign alongside the tracks, before continuing through expansive lakes and sparse birch forests. Along the route, wildlife including moose and a mountain hare can be seen. The weather is cool and drizzly, with temperatures around 7°C, a notable contrast to widespread summer wildfires in other parts of Europe. Northern Sweden’s summer has been unusually cool, with some areas yet to reach five consecutive days above 10°C, prompting the region to promote itself as a “coolcation” destination.
The train, crowded with hikers and carrying a youthful, backpack-laden atmosphere, stops at Björkliden station after five hours. Here, the family disembarks, the only passengers to do so, as an iron ore train from Kiruna speeds past. The daughter counts 68 carriages on the train, which is typical for this route, where about ten such lengthy trains pass daily, transporting significant quantities of iron ore bound for export. This highlights the region’s role in resource extraction, which contrasts with the wild landscape and underscores the tension between nature and industry at the fringes.
Sweden’s right to roam, known as Allemansrätten, allows people to freely explore, camp, and forage throughout the countryside, a tradition the family embraces as they hike into the hills beyond Björkliden. They pitch a tent on a high bluff overlooking the 60-kilometre-long Torneträsk lake and cook over a stove, surrounded by a shifting weather palette and occasional visits from reindeer. The children enjoy the extended daylight hours, with nights so brief that sunset and sunrise blend near 3 a.m.
During their stay, the family explores the surrounding mountains, often without marked trails. They encounter raspberries, mushrooms, ptarmigans, and golden plovers, and swim briefly in the cold lakes. The vastness and wilderness grant the children a sense of freedom that their father hopes they will remember. Solo hikes to nearby peaks reveal views of Norway’s rugged mountains, just across the border, illustrating the remoteness yet connectivity of the region. The railway’s ongoing upgrades also reflect its growing strategic importance amid regional geopolitical shifts, including Sweden’s recent NATO membership.
After a week, the family returns to the lakeshore and transfers to Abisko Mountain Lodge, where the seasonal change is evident through blooming fireweed and cooler mornings. The lodge, recently taken over by brothers Paul and Jon Engström, serves locally sourced dishes such as Arctic char and moose, connecting the experience to regional heritage. The Engström family has a deep artistic history tied to the area, with their great-grandfather, once a Paris-trained painter, having spent much of his life nearby, inspiring efforts to revive local cultural ties.
The region around Abisko, with a population just over 150, is the starting point of the Kungsleden trail, a nearly 467-kilometre long path. Guided hikes reveal features like the glacially carved Lapporten trough and Trollsjön lake, famed for its clarity. The lake remains ice-free only about three months annually, signifying the harsh climate.
On the final day, the family visits the Kårsa glacier, which has been monitored since the 1940s and has lost approximately 80% of its surface area. Current estimates suggest it could disappear within two decades. The stark reality of climate change weighs heavily as the family reflects on the glacier’s decline, recognizing the rapid changes affecting this once-remote landscape.
As their trip concludes, the family prepares to depart by train, leaving behind a wilderness shaped by natural beauty, cultural heritage, resource extraction, and emerging geopolitical relevance. The experience offers a glimpse into the challenges and transformations facing the Arctic frontier today.