Sailing south | Aberle Photo

Our 38-hour, roughly 700-kilometre voyage from Ilulissat to Nuuk, in the company of local Inuit passengers, several travellers of our own general species and one heroic Russian.

For the journey from Ilulissat to the capital we chose the coastal ferry. Flying is the standard way to get around Greenland, but a ship lets you stop at a few places on the way and supplies considerably better scenery between them. It is not an especially cheap amusement: DKK 4,800, or roughly CZK 16,000 in total—CZK 8,000 per person. The trip takes a day and a half and includes two nights aboard.

The west-coast service is operated by Arctic Umiaq Line. Its timetable is fixed and, to give credit where due, the ship managed to follow it rather well. There are several stops, but only two allow enough time to inspect the town square and nearby buildings under the gentle supervision of the ship’s cultural officer.

We booked well in advance after studying the timetable, with reservation and payment handled through the operator’s website. At boarding in Ilulissat, staff merely checked that each name matched the booking, issued a card with a bunk number and explained the available food facilities. Then the horn sounded and, without the slightest road bump, we began moving south.

Leaving harbour involved the occasional nudge against an iceberg, which caused no visible excitement among the locals. Weaving through the ice was excellent entertainment from the permanently accessible upper deck. As mentioned several times already, the sun did not set, so visibility remained excellent at any hour when a sensible person might otherwise be asleep.

Ship departing Ilulissat beside an iceberg — Leaving Ilulissat

Colourful houses on the hillside above Sisimiut — Houses of Sisimiut

Row of similar colourful houses in Maniitsoq — Greenlandic houses

Wooden Lutheran church in Maniitsoq — Little church in Maniitsoq

Passengers relaxing on the upper deck of the coastal ferry Sarfaq Ittuk — The scenery-appreciation deck

Open deck of Sarfaq Ittuk overlooking Disko Bay — A bar with a view

Sleeper compartment with bunks aboard Sarfaq Ittuk — Our shipboard quarters

Rocky Greenland coast seen through a red-framed cabin window — The cabin-window view

Orange lifeboat suspended above the sea aboard Sarfaq Ittuk — A boat on a boat

Commemorative plaques aboard the coastal ferry Sarfaq Ittuk — Two nights as a club member

Boarding pass for the Sarfaq Ittuk voyage from Ilulissat to Nuuk — The ferry ticket

Greenland flag flying at the stern with mountains and sea behind it — View from the floating gallery

While we were moving into our assigned sleeping compartments, a familiar silhouette passed by. Yes: the Russian from Restaurant H8 had boarded with us. Fortunately, the ship contained plenty of chairs and bunks, so we were pleased to see that he finally had somewhere to sit.

Over the course of the voyage we met other visitors and local passengers, alternately sleeping, playing cards and singing. The whole trip had a relaxed atmosphere. Our Russian was most often seen with the cultural officer, whose duties included guiding passengers during shore visits and answering their questions. From one conversation I overheard that he was investigating whether Greenlanders produced their own moonshine. This raised a smile on the officer’s face and a muffled snigger from my brother and me. The Russian could not be mistaken for anybody else.

First stop: Sisimiut

Our first proper stop was Sisimiut, Greenland’s second-largest town, with around 5,600 residents. The cultural officer led us into a small workshop producing souvenirs from seal bone and other locally harvested fauna. He probably sensed that a compulsory shopping stop would not achieve tremendous success with us—we had nowhere at home for a bearskin carpet—and turned his attention to the rest of the group.

The ship remained for about two hours, of which an hour and a half was available for urban exploration. Sisimiut has a church, beside which we failed to find a geocache, houses, and a Pisiffik supermarket. It is therefore a compact town with a developed service network, and our arrival did not produce any detectable civic disturbance.

Well-stocked fruit and vegetable section in Sisimiut's Pisiffik supermarket — The Pisiffik selection

Traveller choosing beer in Sisimiut's Pisiffik supermarket — Brother-approved

Modern interior of a Pisiffik supermarket in Sisimiut — A supermarket at the edge of nowhere

Traditional red wooden house in Sisimiut — Traditional Greenlandic barn-ish thing

Community notice board covered with adverts and announcements in Sisimiut — The local classifieds portal

Car-for-sale advertisement pinned up in Sisimiut — An estate-car phobia, 1.2 TSI

What did surprise us was the standard of the shops—especially Pisiffik—not just here but in the other settlements we visited. The product range was extensive, ready meals appeared even in the most remote branches, and every price shone from a little electronic display. So the next time somebody launches a media campaign about how fantastically progressive Czechia is for introducing digital shelf labels, remember that much of the world had already invented this wheel and rolled it successfully into a shop at the edge of the Arctic.

Second stop: Maniitsoq

The second shore visit was Maniitsoq, “the Venice of Greenland”. That is what they call themselves; I did not invent it. Considerably smaller than Sisimiut, with around 2,800 residents, the route from the harbour crosses bridges and causeways. Add a modest amount of imagination and it is practically Venice. This was also one of the few places where we managed to photograph the Russian discreetly.

The official tour ended quickly, after which we wandered without a strong plan and wondered what people in these northern Venetian suburbs did throughout the year.

Lifeboat suspended from the coastal ferry's crane — The ship's little runabout

Small orange transfer boat coming alongside Sarfaq Ittuk — Installing the runabout

Passengers transferring from a small boat to the coastal ferry — Please exit through the rear door

Houses scattered across the rocky hillside in Maniitsoq — The tip behind the house

Mountainous coast near Maniitsoq seen from the ferry — Views along the way

Calm Greenland fjord and mountain coast seen from the ferry — A little detour to the next stop

Solitary house on a remote Greenland coast beneath the mountains — Spot the cottage

The ferry called at several more places, but only long enough to load and unload passengers; we could not go ashore. One could watch the transfer operation or look at scenes unlikely to appear in tourist brochures. Unfortunately, some of those scenes were rubbish dumps. Waste was occasionally handled in the most efficient possible way from the thrower’s point of view: tip it somewhere out of sight, preferably near the water so that it may eventually become somebody else’s rubbish. A shame in such surroundings, but municipal collection cannot be an easy profession up here.

For the rest of the voyage we alternated scenery appreciation with little beers. The kilometres slipped past. At about eleven in the evening, with the sun still well above the horizon, the captain announced a group of whales on the starboard side. They were too far away for a photograph, behind glass, and I had already changed into my night-time fashion collection. You must therefore trust us: in the distance we saw occasional jets of water above the sea, probably manufactured by the cetaceans announced by the captain.

Whales, wee, bed.

At about seven the next morning we docked in Nuuk. We walked from the harbour into the centre and continued by taxi to accommodation arranged in advance on the far side of town.