That branch of the land of Europe, which turns at midnight, uninterrupted chains of mountains, all in capes and promontories, almost suddenly shrinks, frays and gets lost in a sea that is sometimes blue like a dream, more often glossy black like the wet cast iron, up here in the corner of Norway that divides the Atlantic with the Barents Sea.

There is nothing soft here, except the colors of the light. The choice is between a brutal and bizarre ocean, a land cut vertically like huge slices of cake always covered with luminous snowy icing, and an area of relative respite between the solid and the fluid world made up of beaches and ravines, peninsulas and archipelagos, bends and promontories, rare oases where millennia of humility have built piers, windows and sloping roofs.

Starting from the south Senja , the 10-headed queen, then Vengsoya, Vannoya , the spectacular Fugloya , then Arnoya and Kagen , and dozens of others, all capable of taking you from a white beach to 1000 meters of crystal peaks and crests.