Bugøynes might be one of the last places on earth you would expect humans to thrive. It’s a place where you barely see the sun in winter, and not at all in December and January. There’s practically no vegetation to speak of between the rocky, weathered hills. A few bushes and trees have managed to take root: all of them withered and windswept, none of them edible. Further inland, you’ll find a few reindeer herds scraping a living by gnawing on moss beneath the snow, but out here there’s not much to sustain human life.
Yet, if you do brave the barren, windy Arctic landscape and the narrow, winding roads leading to the tiny village – which is about as far to the north-east as you can possibly get on the European mainland – you’ll find a thriving community.
Life here is extreme in every sense of the word. Just half a generation ago, the town’s 300 inhabitants were considering abandoning the place altogether. However, by turning a marauding intruder into a precious and exclusive resource, Bugøynes is thriving again – and its inhabitants would never dream of leaving.