Anxious to get further away from the bears, we rose early and started skiing inland. Our progress was sluggish with everyone bleary eyed and weary from lack of sleep. But we kept putting one ski in front of the other, grinding out the kilometres, and eventually the sea ice began to fade into the distance. The words of a polar explorer, who I met before leaving for Svalbard, echoed in my head as my aching legs repeatedly turned: "Even a mouse can eat an elephant if it takes small enough bites."

By midday, the sun had come out, and, with the bears now gone, our moods began to brighten. But as Kjell was quick to remind us, we needed to keep on our toes - as we approached the glacier, we faced a new danger, crevasses. If we fell into one of these deep fissures in the ice we would struggle to get out again, alive anyway. As usual, Kjell led the way, the rest of us in a long line behind, sticking to each other like glue and gingerly skiing along his tracks.

As we started ascending the glacier, it felt like we were entering a new world. The gloomy, harsh landscape of the first few days replaced by a calming white expanse. It was like a fresh, white sheet had been laid down over the earth. Magnificent white mountains appeared on the horizon, their features constantly changing as light from the sun hit them at different angles. They never seemed to get any closer, but we were content trudging on as we revelled in the peaceful Arctic paradise we now found ourselves in.

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