Challenge 9 - SLEEPING IN A LAAVU...IN THE ARCTIC....IN WINTER

To be truthful I didn't realise this was a challenge until I did it. But it was, with bells on!

A laavu is basically a Wigwam - ie a canvas tent propped up with sticks with a six foot diameter hole in the ceiling. And yes, it was a little nippy, to the tune of -12C with a wind-chill of -20C - mild according to the local Saami people, but jaw-numbingly cold to an Irish softie like myself (we do rain, not cold!). And yes, the snow did fall through the hole. To be fair we did have a fire in the middle of the wigwam, which blazed merrily for 20 mins and then died. Our guide popped in several times during the night to relight the fire using half of Norway's wood supplies and a can of paraffin - not a relaxing scenario for a good night's sleep. We were all cocooned in our Arctic sleeping bags in thermal suits, unable to surface for air in case something dropped off and fearful of suffocating through lack of oxygen or from smoke inhalation. We laughed and cried in equal measure, but sleep was not on the agenda.

And one final yes - we did have to pee, and more, in the pitch dark in a frozen hole in the ground - in fact our 'produce' froze before it hit the ground. Suffice to say that I stopped drinking at lunchtime before our overnight stay - somehow I just didn't feel thirsty!

And one post-final yes - the huskies did howl all night long. Which would have been a problem if we had been asleep, but luckily we weren't!

However, a quick family rendition of Kum-ba-ya soon cheered us up!

Challenge 8 - SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS

And I did it!

A child-hood dream fulfilled - ever since Dad pointed to the horizon in Belfast one clear winter's night and introduced me to the magic of the Aurora - a captivating flicker in the distance. He knew he would never see it overhead, but he urged me to follow the lights. I did, and I found them, and they were enchanting.

It was a close call - after 2 nights of complete cloud cover and 1 night of sheer exhaustion which resulted in us sleeping through the display, she finally came out to play. And boy, was it worth the tension and anticipation. She (for the Aurora is indeed a 'she') performed magnificently for us on our last night in the Arctic - dancing not only the gentle and elegant waltz she is most famous for, but also the salsa, the jive and the flamenco. Ribbons of multi-coloured light chased across the sky, and curtains fluttered as if fanned by a gentle breeze. It was awe-inspiring,and humbling - it made me feel tiny and insignificant in the face of our magnificent universe and the force of Nature.

She is all the more special because she is whimsical and elusive. No-one can predict her behaviour. Indeed on that particular night, the forecast was for low activity. Perhaps she saw the gloominess in my soul and took pity on me! Or perhaps she just likes to prove the 'experts' wrong, and to show that she is in control.

I don't believe in God, but it did make me wonder, and I did offer up a little prayer of thanks to Whoever for allowing me to witness the greatest show on earth. To share it with the people I love most was an extra privilege.

Tips for Aurora spotters:

Be patient - no amount of wishing it will make it happen. I should know!

Lower your expectations - a flicker of green between the clouds is still the Aurora

Wear hat, gloves and scarf - in fact, wear 10 of each. It is bitterly cold and your nose is likely to drop off with frost-bite

Don't point a light or wave a flag at the aurora - according to Saami tradition, the lights will come down and take you. Doesn't sound so bad....

Challenge 7 - DOG SLEDDING

Or should I say 'mushing', which makes me a 'musher', albeit an L-plated one.

There would appear to be only one skill required of a musher - not driving, not steering, not balancing, not cajoling, but quite simply braking. The huskies need no coaxing to run off into the wilderness at break-neck speed - they love it and live for it -, nor indeed any steering as they quite simply follow the dogs in front whether you want them to or not. You do however need them to stop sometime before they reach Russia, and also to reduce their speed as you hurtle down mountains, otherwise you and the sled will go flying over the top of the dogs. Not a good plan. Braking involves standing on a bar at the back of the sled which in theory drives a wedge into the snow. Fine, if you weigh more than 14 stone, or if you are not on ice!

We had a truly exhilarating ride, led through the snowy wilderness by five beautiful, powerful, clever dogs (apart from Dennis obviously resented being given a silly name). It was pitch black (probably best as you didn't see the holes in the ice over the rivers) and eerily quiet until all the pack decided to howl in unison. The respect shown by the local mushers towards the dogs is inspiring, and well deserved - They work perfectly as a team, they can detect cracks in ice and oncoming blizzards, and they have a wonderful placid temperament (much like the local Norwegians). I am a big husky fan.

One down side - husky poo stinks - they 'perform' as they run, then the sled runs through it splattering the musher. Detracts a little from the romance of the experience, but adds a dose of authenticity.

All in all, a fabulous challenge. Mush, mush!

Challenge 6 - Drive a Snowmobile

Location - 100 km north of the Arctic circle.  

Driving a snowmobile sounds easy - think 'driving a quad bike on snow' - then think again!  The beast weighs more than twice the weight of a quad bike, your hands are so cold they can't close on the throttle, and you have to steer using your body weight leaning out to the side, which is not easy when you weigh less than a sparrow (ahem!).  Luckily I had a well-built Norwegian guide (with a knife in his belt - to fight off bears I like to think) to assist, or rather to drive the snowmobile while I sat on the back going oooh and aaah, and admiring the rather amazing views.  We drove 20km through the bleak and barren arctic wilderness to a beautiful spot overlooking the point where Norway, Sweden and Finland meet.  It felt like we were the only people on earth, with Mother Nature warning us that she was definitely in charge - the conditions were brutal and hostile, but humbling and enriching at the same time. 

Just for the record I did drive the snowmobile round in a circle with perfect control and a big grin on my face.  I also believed my guide when he said that I was a 'natural'.  An extra bonus was that the rest of my family ended up several times in the ditch with a rather heavy snowmobile on top of them.  No injuries, so it is acceptable to laugh - so I did!

More arctic challenges to follow - read on!.  

Challenge 5 - GET BLESSED BY THE POPE

I have been blessed - generally in life - but also specifically by il Papa in Rome, -  so challenge 5 is ticked.

Apart from a halo hovering precariously over my head, I feel little different following my spiritual experience, and my atheistic 'faith' is unshaken.  Sharing the experience with a thousand believers was certainly moving - I felt the love - but the abundance of 'Abortion is Murder', 'No to IVF', and 'Homosexuality is a Sin' banners kept it real.  The 'P' word was nowhere to be seen - either on the banners or in the minds of the devotees. Ho hum.

Enough of the politics and ethics - it makes it sound like a much more serious event than it was.  Think instead of warm sunshine, vino rosso, italian style (oh how I want some),  romance, beautiful architecture and good, if slightly mad, company.

The weekend was partly in memory of Mum and Dad, and as I looked skyward outside St Peters Basilica, I saw Mum smiling that her family were together, and I'm sure I heard Dad asking for a large glass of chianti.

Thank you Rome - I'm glad we spent time together in my 50th year.  Now, can I take my halo off please?