I skied up to the highest mountain hut in the Swedish Arctic. My reward? A whiteout …

<p>An epic rail trip to Sweden’s Arctic north ends with a surreal skiing experience – and waffles for breakfast while sitting out a snowstorm</p><p>The light coming through the sleeper train window wakes me. It’s nearly time. Climbing down the&nbsp;ladder past the other snoozing occupants, I&nbsp;head into the corridor. A few hours ago there were only trees, an endless unfurling ribbon of spruce and birch. Now there is snow, vast banks of it. And sometimes, when the train roars through a big drift, great spumes of&nbsp;white blast out on either side, blocking any view.</p><p>In the restaurant car, I watch the&nbsp;map on my phone as a blue dot approaches a straight dashed line. A&nbsp;frozen lake and distant pale mountains appear. Then at 6.09am we&nbsp;cross the Arctic Circle. Forty-eight hours previously, I had been in London St Pancras station, queueing for the Eurostar. Now, five trains later, never having left terra firma, I am in the Arctic. Most of my fellow travellers are&nbsp;Swedes with hefty bags of skis and&nbsp;well-stocked sledges that look expedition-ready. With their weathered faces and lean muscle, they&nbsp;look intimidatingly capable.</p> <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/travel/2025/nov/01/skiing-to-highest-mountain-hut-in-sweden">Continue reading...</a>