“What’s Your Reindeer Name?” - Four Days in the Arctic Circle

By Lauren Regan.

Stepping off the plane at Enontekiö Airport, a tiny Arctic runway deep in Finnish Lapland, feels like stepping onto another planet.

In December 2025, my friend Stef and I decided to escape the British winter… to somewhere much, much colder. We packed our layers and flew, a little apprehensively, from Newcastle International Airport to experience life in the frozen North. Our base for the trip, the Davvi Arctic Star Hotel, is perched on the edge of Arctic Finland and Arctic Sweden, and after a short pit-stop en route from the airport to pick up our snow suits and boots, we arrived at our home for the week.

After a delicious breakfast on the first morning (apparently it’s important to eat lots to stave off the cold), we decided to head out into the dusky midday light in search of a hot chocolate, a short walk away, across the border into Sweden. A cosy little gift shop and cafe sat just past a frozen river and along a winding road guarded by pine trees drooping under snow, with the border itself sitting in the middle of a bridge straddling a frozen river. It’s there you leap forward an hour, languages change, and even the currency shifts - according to the locals, magic things happen in that missing hour. The walk also takes you by the beautiful Karesuando Church, the most northerly church in Sweden, often referred to as the ‘Coca-Cola Church’, after it was featured in early Christmas ads in the 90s. The church offers a welcome stop to warm up en route, and, like weary travellers, we peeked inside and took a moment to learn more about the church and the local traditions. This place, that feels like it was steeped in magic, was our playground for the next four days.

Then, it was time for the first adventure: reindeer sleds. A small group of us headed to meet the Sami people, indigenous reindeer herders in the region, to find out more about their way of life and, most importantly, meet some of the herd. The Sami are the indigenous people of Sápmi, a vast homeland spanning the northern reaches of Norway, Sweden, Finland and even parts of Russia. They have lived here for millennia, their culture deeply woven into the rhythms of reindeer herding, fishing, hunting and storytelling. The reindeer are far more than livestock. They are companions, guides, and a link to a way of life that endures in harmony with the elements. Asking a Sami man how many reindeer he has is exceptionally rude, and the equivalent of enquiring about someone's salary in other parts of the world.

So, bundled in (what I would later find out) were not enough layers; we visited a reindeer camp… and I said something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Showing me over to the reindeer, the very knowledgeable (and in my defence, very handsome) guide handed me the reins, proclaiming, “your reindeer name is Zeik!” Now, I’m blaming the cold, my earmuffs, nerves, all of the above, but that translated into my brain as him telling me that was my ‘reindeer name’. “Oh! That is so interesting”, I beamed back. “In your culture, does everyone get a reindeer name? What’s yours?” Catching his confused and frankly horrified look, I realised that maybe that wasn’t right. “No”, he said, pointing confusedly at our antlered friend. “THAT is Zeik”. If an avalanche had swept me away right at that moment, I might have been ok with it.

The next day, we were up bright and early to go and meet the area’s other famous residents, the huskies. Boisterous bundles of energy who didn’t seem at all bothered that the temperature had dropped to the minus 30s. As soon as we approached the kennels, you could hear barking as they yelped like eager kids, excited to begin the day’s adventure. The staff taught us how to stand on the sled, brake, turn and be a good teammate to the huskies (who, let's be honest, are doing all of the hard work). There were a few nerves to start, but as soon as we got going, it was clear the dogs knew exactly what they were doing. Mushing a team across the Arctic tundra was the most tranquil experience, with the wind slicing at our faces, snow sweeping up in crystalline sprays, and the rhythm of paws on powder as we made our way in a gigantic circle back towards the farm. A word of advice, if you ever find yourself here, take along an extra pair of gloves and socks. Standing still on the sled and moving through the cold air really gets to your extremities, and any moisture tends to freeze, which can take its toll on your fingers and toes. Take an extra thermal sock to pop your phone into, too. The last thing you want is a frozen screen, so you can’t take any pics.

My favourite night of the trip was the final one, snowmobiling out onto the vast, frozen lake under a sky that could have been ripped straight from a book of folk tales. The engines hummed in the stillness, and we glided out into the middle of the forest, with the stars falling down all around us. There was a sense of being somewhere ancient and uncharted, and then the Northern Lights came out above us and really put on a show. Standing with a glass of Gløgg in hand, we stood in silence and watched the Northern Lights dance across the sky, while shooting stars zipped over our heads. The guide told us tales about the myths behind the Northern Lights. Some say they are light glinting off the armour of the Valkyrie as they come to collect the spirits for Valhalla, others say they are an ancient princess, cursed to dance across the sky and never meet her lover again after getting on the wrong side of a shaman. The beauty of the space, the lights, and the stories was incredibly moving. If my eyes hadn’t been frozen, I might have cried.

We booked our adventure through Transun Holidays, and the hire of thermal snowsuits and boots was included in our holiday. A word to anyone thinking of making the trip: merino wool underlayers are key. It is the most expensive underwear I have ever bought, and it was worth every penny.

Four days didn’t seem long enough, and I would go back in a heartbeat. If you go, wrap yourself up, prepare to have your breath taken, and keep your eyes open. The Arctic has a way of showing you things you didn’t even know you were looking for.

MOLE works with businesses in the UK and Canada to find their voice, tell their stories, and shape their future. To speak to Lauren about your organisation's ambitions, reach out on lauren@weraremole.com