While visiting the world’s biggest island, a wild and beautiful land of ice, Lauren Taylor finds a community of warm-hearted people

As morning views go, this is pretty surreal. It’s 7am and I’m sailing up the west coast of Greenland on the MS Fram.

With a population of less than 58,000, it’s hard to believe this is the world’s biggest island.

During our seven-night trip, we will visit some of the remote coastal settlements, meet local characters and admire the icy landscapes.

As we set sail into the unknown, from the green hills of Kangerlussuaq towards the snow-topped mountains in the distance, there’s a dizzying anticipation of what’s to come. Our exploration into the wild will take us into the Arctic Circle to the ice fjords around the Disko Bay area and back southwards along the coastline.

There is a choice of rooms on board, ranging from large suites with private balconies to smaller, more functional cabins with portholes.

But as expedition leader Anja reminds us several times, this is an expedition ship not a cruise ship. The emphasis is on adventure not opulence. Still, the ship itself has everything you need for seven days, with plenty of places to relax and (literally) watch the world go by.

There are spacious decks to take in the crisp fresh air and a big lounge where nights are spent sipping Norwegian aquavit and reflecting on the day’s activity.

With boat trips and hiking tours on most stops along the coast, the ten-strong expedition team really make the voyage an adventure.

Each one is an expert in their field and their enthusiasm for Greenland, its geography and its people is infectious. Our first stop is the fishing town of Sisimiut, the largest settlement outside of the capital Nuuk. Bright red, blue, yellow and green houses are dotted around the port and surrounding hills. Here, you can find artists sewing seal skin or filing down reindeer antler and carving whale jaw into jewellery for sale at local craft fairs.

I’d never been to a polar region before, and as we move from the green hills of Sisimiut to the smaller settlement of Qeqertarsuaq I’m awe-struck by the glistening white icebergs floating in the emerald sea.

I marvel at them from different angles, looking at their changing colour and shape. And the novelty doesn’t wear off. Each one is a piece of art, a natural sculpture moulded by the tides. Over time it will erode and disappear forever.

BUT it’s not just the ice that characterises Greenland’s landscape. An area of the island is covered in sand. Close to our third stop, Uummannaq, I climb to the top of the mineral-rich Red Desert, formed by a mixture of iron and sulphur. Where else in the world can you gaze at icebergs with sand beneath your feet?

The air is still and silent, nothing can grow here, no birds occupy the air and there isn’t a single person in sight.

Our much-anticipated descent back around the Disko bay and towards the famous ice fjord of Ilulissat is just as dramatic. The Fram slows to navigate her way through sheets of ice and for the first time, it dawns on me that we are really at the mercy of the elements.

Even in a sturdy, modern 12,000-ton ship, it’s possible to feel vulnerable.

Of course, we are in big safe Norwegian hands, but that element of adventure in wild, untouched parts of the world certainly adds to the thrill as the captain expertly navigates through the polar equivalent of a minefield.

Later, bobbing up and down on Zodiacs (motorised dinghies), we’re taken up close to the huge mounds of ice. For the first time, we are looking up at the icebergs rather than down from the deck.

I switch from feeling rather indifferent about ice to becoming borderline obsessive, and I’m not the only one.

Edging further into the freezing waters, the captain warns that a lack of wind will prevent any movement of the dense ice, meaning it’s too risky for us to attempt floating through, forcing us to abandon a landing in Ilulissat.

We have no choice but to accept the power of nature and sail on past to another village, Qasigiannguit, where we are treated to a hauntingly beautiful performance by the local church choir. You have to look pretty hard to find much wildlife on this stretch of the west coast (most can be found on the east side of the island), but that makes it all the more special when we finally do.

‘‘There’s a whale on port side!’’ the tannoy booms on our fourth day at sea.

I sprint along the deck and, about five metres away, a dark mass emerges from the water, before elegantly diving down, heaving its tail into the air.

Expedition leader Friederike bursts into tears. She’s been visiting Greenland for 30 years and this is her first sighting of a bowhead whale. These grand creatures are so rare that no one has been able to predict just how many are left.

Our encounter with the whale is certainly a highlight, but the real focus of Hurtigruten’s The Heart of Greenland cruise is the local people, the Kalaallit, and their strong cultural identity.

People survive here by using local resources to their best advantage, and fishing is still the main trade. Seal hunting is also still an important way of life, for both food and clothing.

The skin provides warmth in harsh winter weather and is also a part of traditional dress.

One woman from the tiny settlement of Itilleq, who invited a few of us into her home for tea, proudly shows off her sealskin shorts, boots and an intricately weaved multi-coloured top. At our forth stop, Ukkusissat, the villagers are invited on board the Fram to perform traditional Greenlandic song and dance.

Afterwards we’re welcomed on land for coffee and cake. One young man, Malik, 19, even insists on taking me for a guided tour of the village where he’d grown up. This kind hospitality, I quickly discover, is typically Greenlandic.

After exploring a country made up of 85 per cent ice, it’s fitting that we end our trip standing on the ice cap itself. The second largest body of ice on the planet, 110,000 years old and covering 660,235 square miles, it is an overwhelming sight.

From exploring polar waters to cheering on a football match between the locals of Itilleq and a cobbled-together team from the ship, every element of our adventure was authentic, intimate and special.