Visiting Greenland, I discovered there’s much more to its story than the headlines | Canada Voices

If Newfoundland can lay claim to Iceberg Alley, then Greenland’s Ilulissat Icefjord can be aptly dubbed the iceberg highway. Here, on the west coast, massive chunks of ancient frozen water get stuck in gridlock until they exit into Disko Bay and float all over the world.

Standing on a slab of rock high above the UNESCO World Heritage Site, it strikes me that the current tourism boom to Greenland can be viewed as a sort of mirror image: people from all over the world trying to fit into one small space – relatively speaking. After all, while Greenland is the world’s largest non-continental island, ice covers more than 80 per cent of its land mass.

Thanks to Trump’s threats, tourism in Greenland is booming

The good news for travellers is that Greenland, unlike some other destinations, wants people to visit. The autonomous territory of Denmark has publicly set bold goals (one aim is to double the number of tourists by 2035) and is improving airport infrastructure to handle more international flights. But there is a caveat: It hopes people will do so in a responsible, respectful manner. After all, one need only look at Iceland, its diminutive neighbour, to see how tourism can quickly become too much of a good thing, even on a cold rock in the North Atlantic.

So how does one explore Greenland without being a jerk about it? For me, the answer lay in learning about Inuit culture and history‚ respecting its peoples’ customs and travelling with a tour operator that emphasizes local connections.

My Intrepid Travel tour group has lucked out with the weather. It’s a particularly sunny July day as we take in the icefjord. While it’s hard to fully grasp the magnitude of the scene – the icefjord is six kilometres wide and approximately 55 kilometres long – the grandeur of it all hits hard. Some of these icebergs, which can rise 60 metres above the water, will travel thousands of kilometres before melting into nothingness. It’s been suggested one of these frosty behemoths, calved from the Sermeq Kujalleq glacier, had a chance meeting with the Titanic.

For now, the brilliant blues and icy whites inch their way along in stark contrast to the mossy greens and moody greys of the land. The 30-minute hike out was easy – mostly on a boardwalk – along one of four trails that start at the impressive Icefjord Centre.

The vaguely skeletal, boomerang-shaped museum is an unexpected hit of modernity 250 kilometres north of the polar circle. Opened in 2021, it tells the geographical and human stories of Ilulissat, a coastal town of roughly 5,000 people, through deceptively simple means. Standing among glass-encased ice-core samples dating back to 124,000 BC, visitors listen to recorded narratives about “life by, and with, the icefjord.”

The first one begins with barks. “Dogs are the sound of Ilulissat and the sound of north Greenland,” the narrator says.

Sled dogs tend to provoke strong emotions, but there is no denying they are an unmistakable part of the Greenlandic identity. Dog-sled crossing signs dot the streets. One night my hotel room overlooked the home of a pack. On Qeqertarsuaq (Disko Island), I could have sworn I was in some Newfoundland outport (pastel towels flapping on a clothing line; brightly painted wood houses backdropped by endless sea and azure icebergs), had I not been greeted by two gamboling fluffball pups and heard their parents howling in the distance.

Greenland dogs – a distinct, protected breed – are identifiers that you are in this particular place. Same with the talk of seal hunting, the reindeer, musk ox and whale on menus and the tupilaqs for sale. These bone carvings of grotesque monsters may be quirky souvenirs for visitors, but to the Inuit here they were once feared bringers of evil.

We learn this at the Nuuk Local Museum, listening to Maria Kreutzmann, a local author, illustrator and self-described monster hunter, passionately share her favourite Greenlandic myths. Warning: Many are not for the tender of heart. (Orgies! Incest! Chopped-off fingers!)

A couple of days later we hear more modern stories at a kaffemik hosted by Pauline Jenson, a welcoming grandmother who smiles with her whole face. Traditionally, the social gathering is a sort of open house to mark special occasions, with guests coming and going, enjoying tea, coffee, cakes and buns. But Jenson also opens her doors to tourists looking to learn more about Greenlandic culture.

We help ourselves to seconds and thirds of her homemade treats while she proudly shows off family photos and handmade sealskin items. As we say goodbye, she invites us to return later, in celebration of her granddaughters winning a kayaking competition.

“We want travellers to leave with a much better sense of local life and to feel like they’ve genuinely connected with the local people,” says Mikey Sadowski, Intrepid’s vice-president of global communications. “While we can’t force connection, we can try and create conditions for it.”

After nine days in Greenland, my group has embraced much of what the island has to offer. We swam in the chilly waters of the Arctic Ocean, kayaked around calving icebergs (under the watchful eye of Danny Molgaard, another local guide), hiked dozens of kilometres through Arctic tundra, ate our body weight in fresh king crab and buttery cod, and splurged on funky local clothing lines. (The “Greenland is not for sale” T-shirt by Bibi Chemnitz was a must-have.)

So when I ask our guide, Niels Arkaluk Heilmann, what he wants people to know about visiting his home country, I can’t help but chuckle at his answer.

“Learn to be bored,” he says as we walk around the picturesque Ilulissat harbour on our final morning.

Still, I understand what he means. Slow down. Immerse yourself. Sit and stare at an iceberg under the midnight sun. And listen to the locals tell their stories of Greenland. They’re so much more interesting than the headlines.

If you go

Intrepid Travel trips to Greenland start at $10,360 for nine days, with departure dates in July, August and September. The itinerary visits Nuuk, Ilulissat, Disko Island and Qasigiannguit. Domestic transportation, accommodation, some meals (eight breakfasts, two lunches) and several activities are included. Optional excursions are available at an additional cost. intrepidtravel.com

The writer travelled as a guest of Intrepid Travel,which did not review or approve this article. Stories are based on merit; The Globe does not guarantee coverage.