Many people would have a little difficulty pointing to Greenland on a map, and there is a simple explanation. The country appears on weather maps as a small (and usually blue) blob, wedged somewhere into the top left of the TV screen. What this singularly fails to convey is the astonishing size of this country. Greenland is the world's biggest island, and like the icebergs that circle it, that weather map only allows the very tip to be visible.

 

"The current temperature in Kangerlussuaq is rather low, at minus 25 degrees Celsius. Have a pleasant journey." When the captain of the main scheduled flight between not-especially-tropical Denmark and even-less-so Greenland considers the climate of your destination to be a bit on the chilly side, it is a fair bet that a uniquely cold experience awaits. That depth of chill, together with the high latitude of this place, suggests a wild and wintry land of steely skies and boundless blizzards. In fact Kangerlussuaq is a haven of climatic stability. Most of the snow here fell at beginning of October last year. It simply hasn't had a chance to melt yet. Neither of course has the decidedly cool structure which is among the first sights to be viewed by those landing here - Kangerlussuaq Hotel Igloo Village. This most unusual of accommodation illustrates the stoicism of those in truly Arctic lands when it comes to winter. In Scotland, the last season of the year isn't something that we do particularly well. Despite our sub-arctic location and Northern hemisphere Ice Age past, the temperature only has to drop a few degrees below zero, for newsreaders and weather forecasters to start clucking apocalyptically, with phrases like "severe wind chill" and "unless absolutely necessary". Most of us deal with what is after all a climatic certainty by doing absolutely nothing for four days, then agreeing with all and sundry that, no; they hadn't seen a gritter either. Greenlanders however, get stuck into the white stuff, construct a roof over your head from it, give you a key and a sleeping bag which could keep the peas in your freezer cosy, and then wish you a pleasant nights sleep. On arrival at Hotel Kangerlussuaq, you will in fact check in to two locations simultaneously - the warm, well-appointed and modern hotel room in the main building, and your bedroom in the adjacent Igloo Village. It almost seems like an act of wilful cruelty to have such warmth and comfort so close, especially when you enter the igloo to bunk down for the night and pass the ice-mounted thermometer, which displays minus eighteen. A stunning bar constructed entirely from ice and serving a variety of warming cocktails certainly takes the edge off the temptation to run back to the radiators, warm beds and hot showers of the hotel buildings. That is of course an option, should you feel the need, but it has to be said that the freezing temperatures won't prevent you getting a comfortable nights sleep. In the morning, or at whatever point you wake to find beads of frozen condensation on your bed of heavy musk ox fur, you'll find that there is an almost childlike pleasure to be had from snuggling into warmth while surrounded by cold - think back to winter mornings when school had been cancelled, and the joy of pulling the sheets tighter round your head while watching the minutes of the clock tick past, and all the while knowing that having nowhere particular to be means not having to tear yourself, protesting loudly all the while, from the warmth. Drinks enjoyed the night before in the hotel bar fail entirely to trouble your head with a hangover – it simply doesn’t happen when you have slept off their effects in this frigid but fresh place.

 

Once you have committed yourself to getting up from your cocoon of cosiness, it's time to venture further afield than the immediate vicinity of the airport and hotel. Transport systems are less than conventional in Greenland. All settlements are linked by air, and to a much lesser extent, costal ferry. There are no trains; for that matter, there are no roads to speak of either. No amount of money and ambition would get that kind of infrastructure into a land all but made of snow, ice and rock. However, where the bulldozer fails, the husky dog succeeds. You can travel by sled in Kangerlussuaq, but not to the south of here - dogs aren't allowed; the presence of sheep farms (facilitated by the milder climate) means that it might be a bad idea to keep them. Warm clothes, and lots of them, are an absolute necessity in Greenland in winter, but especially when you are sat on the back of a sled being pulled across a river which has frozen solid for a good ten feet below you. The weak sunlight reflects off the snow-covered landscape, illuminating all around, with the occasional reindeer and musk ox coming into view in the distance. It is a breathtaking experience, and not just because of the distinctive odour given off by the huskies. The dogs are working tirelessly on your behalf, and fed on a diet of raw meat, so it seems only fair to allow them their flatulent indulgence.

 

After the loyal dogs have returned you to somewhat milder indoor temperatures, you can kick back with a drink chilled by a chunk of the inland ice cap - a lump of frozen water which has waited a very long time for a moment of glory in a G&T. Greenland is almost entirely composed of ice cap. Were it to melt, sea levels would rise across the planet by an average of twenty feet. The 55,000 inhabitants of the country cling to settlements on the rocky coastline. Normally, the only ones to venture up on to the ice are huskies and hunters, but Team Arctic will take you up in a snow chain clad 4x4, driven by the seemingly fearless Mikael. It is an astounding thought that there is nothing but the ice that you can see between here and the East coast of Greenland, some eight hundred miles away.

 

Late in the polar evening, as if  nature hasn’t performed magnificently enough already, it plays a stunning encore, with a display of Aurora Borealis, or the Northern Lights. Kangerlussuaq, sitting just inside the Arctic circle and blessed with many cold clear nights, is ideally located if you want to witness this amazing phenomenon. Curtains of coloured lights dance around the night sky, seemingly close enough to touch. Local legend suggests that whistling loudly will bring them even closer, while barking like a dog will drive them away. In truth, doing either would destroy the peace that watching them brings. Perhaps the weatherman should find some new colours for his map.