There are some places you visit, and there are others you experience.

Finnish Lapland, for me, was very much the latter. I arrived expecting snow, Northern Lights and the usual Arctic adventures. What I didn't expect was how quickly the landscape would change the rhythm of the trip. Days seemed to move between exhilarating experiences and wonderfully slow moments: racing through snowy wilderness, standing quietly among reindeer, warming up in a sauna, and simply looking out across the frozen expanse of Lake Inari.

What I came away with was not just a collection of activities, but a series of moments that felt completely different from one another. Some were adventurous, some deeply peaceful, and some almost surreal.

The Northern Lights are one of those experiences where nature decides the schedule. There are no guarantees, which is precisely why I think it is worth giving yourself several opportunities to see them.

I stayed for three nights and was lucky enough to see the lights in different ways. The guides constantly follow the weather and conditions, taking guests to places where the chances of seeing them are strongest. And when the activity begins, there is an almost immediate sense of excitement among the guides and guests.

What surprised me most was how different each sighting could be. Sometimes the lights appeared for only five minutes; other times they stayed for twenty minutes or longer, seeming to move and dance across the sky. Green is the colour most of us associate with the Aurora, but I also saw beautiful shades of purple and pink.

There is one little detail I wish I had known beforehand: the colours can look much fainter to the naked eye than they appear in photographs. Then you point your phone towards the sky and suddenly the vivid greens, pinks and purples become much more visible.

It is one of those moments where you instinctively reach for your camera, even though part of you knows you should simply stand there and look.

One of my favourite experiences began at a husky farm, where we headed out into the Arctic wilderness with around five or six huskies pulling each sled.

Two people shared a sled. One sat as the passenger while the other stood at the back, controlling the brake, and we switched halfway through our roughly three-hour experience. In reality, you have surprisingly little control over the pace. The huskies follow the guide, and their speed depends very much on them.

But that was part of the charm.

What stayed with me was seeing the dogs in their own environment, energetic and completely at home in the snow. Around us, the landscape felt endless. It was snowing, flakes were hitting my face and the wind was rushing past as we moved through the wilderness.

For a moment, I genuinely felt as though I was in Narnia rather than somewhere on Earth. Afterwards, we spent time with the huskies and cuddled the puppies. After three hours in the Arctic, it was probably the perfect possible ending.

I initially thought of the reindeer experience as exactly that—a chance to see and feed reindeer. It turned out to be something much more meaningful.

Our Sámi guide and herder explained how reindeer herding works and the role the animals play in traditional livelihoods and handicrafts. We also learnt about Sámi languages, culture and their representative parliament in Finland, subjects I knew very little about before arriving.

We fed the reindeer and then simply spent time among them. And that was perhaps the most memorable part. Not every experience needs to have a long list of activities attached to it. Sometimes, simply being somewhere unusual is enough.

How often do you get the opportunity to stand quietly among reindeer in the snow? There was something almost storybook-like about the whole scene.

I went snowmobiling twice, and interestingly, the two experiences felt completely different. During the day, there was the excitement of learning to ride a snowmobile for the first time, but the bigger surprise was the scale of the landscape around Lake Inari. The frozen lake seemed to stretch endlessly, giving the journey an extraordinary sense of space.

Halfway through, we stopped at a wilderness shelter, made a bonfire and had hot drinks before continuing. The night ride was an entirely different experience. Once darkness fell, the snowmobile was no longer simply a way of exploring the landscape. Travelling across the frozen wilderness at night felt almost haunting. My visor kept fogging from my breath and the cold, I could barely see beyond the lights of the snowmobiles ahead, and I had to concentrate on keeping pace with the group.

I was completely outside my comfort zone—and I am so glad I did it. Then, on the journey back, we stopped because the Northern Lights appeared. That combination of riding through the Arctic darkness and suddenly stopping beneath the Aurora is something I would happily experience again in a heartbeat.

Not every evening in Lapland needs to be filled with adrenaline. On another night, we travelled in a carriage pulled by a snowmobile and stopped at an Aurora camp. There was a bonfire, hot drinks and time simply to sit and look into the darkness.

After the intensity of the night snowmobile ride, this felt completely different. It reminded me that the Arctic can be enjoyed at many different speeds. Sometimes the best way to experience it is to stop moving altogether.

After spending hours outside in the snow, few things feel better than stepping into a warm sauna. The private sauna in my chalet quickly became one of my favourite ways to end a day, but I also experienced the full Finnish hot-and-cold ritual: sauna, jacuzzi, outside into the snow, back into the heat, and then repeat.

It sounds slightly mad until you actually do it. But afterwards, the feeling was incredible. There was an almost indescribable sense of warmth and energy, as though every part of your body had suddenly come alive.

In Lapland, the contrast between extreme cold outside and intense warmth inside isn't simply practical. It becomes part of the experience.

Perhaps one of the biggest lessons I took from Lapland was that you don't have to fill every minute.

At Wilderness Hotel Inari, there were large, cosy communal spaces around the restaurant and bar, with books and board games. Between excursions, we could sit down, read, play games, have a drink or simply warm up.

Those quiet intervals became an important part of the trip. After spending hours outside in the snow, there was something wonderfully satisfying about returning indoors, getting comfortable and having nowhere else to be.

Lapland isn't just about chasing the next adventure. It is also about experiencing the contrast between movement and stillness, cold and warmth, darkness and light.

And perhaps that is what I remember most.

I went to Finnish Lapland looking for the Northern Lights and Arctic adventures. I left with memories of much more: huskies racing through snow, reindeer standing quietly in the wilderness, the vastness of a frozen lake, the rush of a snowmobile beneath a dark sky, the warmth of a Finnish sauna—and the simple pleasure of slowing down.

Some journeys give you photographs. Others give you stories you find yourself telling long after you return. For me, Lapland gave me both.