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A University Course at 78° North: Northern Lights, Arctic Safety and Cod Lasagne
A university course in Svalbard brought Arctic safety training, Northern Lights, new friendships, Oktoberfest and an unexpected cod lasagne recipe.
Leana Aarvold · 5 min read
In September 2016, I was a PhD student at the University of Oslo. Like many doctoral students, I was spending a lot of time thinking about research, coursework and the next steps in my academic life. But that autumn, one of my courses offered a rather unusual change of scenery.
Instead of staying in Oslo, I headed north to Svalbard.
I was going to attend the University Centre in Svalbard (UNIS) course Ecosystem-Based Management of Arctic Marine Systems. It sounded like an excellent opportunity to learn about Arctic marine ecosystems in the place where they could actually be observed. What I did not fully appreciate at the time was just how many experiences would come with it: rifle training, survival exercises in Arctic waters, almost two weeks aboard a research vessel, my first Northern Lights, an Oktoberfest party and, unexpectedly, a very good cod lasagne recipe.
A little further north than usual
The journey took me from Oslo towards Tromsø and then onwards to Longyearbyen, the main settlement on Spitsbergen. After arriving, I settled into student accommodation and began getting used to the new surroundings.
Svalbard has a way of making you reconsider what you think of as normal. The landscape is vast and dramatic, the settlements are small, and the Arctic environment is never simply a backdrop. It shapes everyday life.
Even before the research vessel trip began, the course made it clear that studying the Arctic involved more than lectures and reading papers.
First, learn how to stay alive
One of the memorable parts of the UNIS experience was the safety training. In Svalbard, being prepared for the environment is not an optional extra.
The training included rifle instruction and polar bear awareness. We also practised using survival equipment and took part in exercises involving flotation or survival suits in cold water. It was a very practical introduction to the realities of working in the High Arctic.
It is one thing to read about polar bears or cold-water risks in a textbook. It is quite another to be taught how to respond to them before heading out into the field.
The message was straightforward: the Arctic is beautiful, but it deserves respect. Preparation is part of the science.
From the classroom to the Barents Sea
The course also connected classroom learning with fieldwork. During my stay, I joined the 2016 Barents Sea Ecosystem Survey aboard the research vessel Helmer Hanssen. My cruise lasted from 24 September to 5 October.
That meant leaving Longyearbyen behind and spending days at sea, working in shifts and helping with the collection and processing of scientific samples. It was a very different kind of classroom.
I will tell that story in a separate article, because life aboard a research vessel—and the work involved in monitoring an entire marine ecosystem—deserves more than a few paragraphs here.
The first Northern Lights
There are experiences you can anticipate, and then there are the ones that catch you completely off guard.
During my stay, I saw the Northern Lights for the first time.
I had seen photographs before, of course. Most people have. But seeing the aurora in person is something else. The sky becomes the main event, and for a while everything else seems rather unimportant.
The aurora is produced when charged particles from the Sun interact with gases in Earth's upper atmosphere, guided by our planet's magnetic field. Oxygen and nitrogen contribute to the colours and patterns we see. That is the scientific explanation. The personal explanation is simpler: I remember being amazed.
It was one of those moments that makes a place stay with you long after you have left it.
Arctic life, with an Oktoberfest twist
Of course, not every memory from Svalbard involves science, cold weather or spectacular landscapes.
There was also an Oktoberfest party in Longyearbyen.
It was a funny contrast: spending time in one of the world's northernmost inhabited communities and then finding yourself at a celebration inspired by a very different part of Europe. It was a reminder that even in such a remote place, student life still finds a way to be student life.
And perhaps that is one of the things I remember most fondly. I met people from different backgrounds, shared experiences with other students and made friendships and connections that lasted beyond the course.
The recipe I brought home
One of the more unexpected things I brought back from Svalbard was a recipe.
Some of the students introduced me to cod lasagne with spinach. It was simple, comforting food—and a particularly appropriate dish after spending time in the Arctic, where cod is such an important part of the marine ecosystem and fishing history.
I liked it enough to keep making it.
Cod and spinach lasagne
For four people, you will need:
500–600 g skinless cod fillets, fresh or thawed
300 g frozen spinach
9–12 lasagne sheets
700 ml milk
60 g butter
60 g flour
150 g grated Gouda or another melting cheese
Salt and black pepper
A little nutmeg, if you like
Make a béchamel sauce by melting the butter, stirring in the flour and gradually adding the milk until smooth and thickened. Season with salt, pepper and a little nutmeg.
Thaw and drain the spinach well, then stir it into the sauce. Cut the cod into small pieces and fold them in. Layer the sauce mixture with the lasagne sheets in an ovenproof dish, finishing with sauce and grated cheese on top.
Bake at 180°C (160–170°C fan) for around 35–40 minutes, until the pasta is tender, the top is golden and the fish is cooked through. Leave it to rest for a few minutes before serving.
It is not a traditional Arctic recipe, as far as I know. It is simply a good meal connected to a very particular memory.
More than a course
I went to Svalbard to attend a university course and learn more about Arctic marine ecosystems. I came away with much more than academic knowledge: new friendships, practical field experience, a first glimpse of the Northern Lights, a few stories I still enjoy telling—and a recipe.
Looking back, what made the experience special was the combination of all these things. Science did not happen separately from everyday life. It happened alongside shared meals, unexpected celebrations, safety training, long days and conversations with people who had travelled north for their own reasons.
It was a university course, certainly. Just not quite like any other.