A remote Inuit settlement on the northeast coast bears the name 'Ittoqqortoormiit'. Many hours after flying over Scotland, I spied my first iceberg lurking in the the ruffled, inky North Atlantic. Even as I tried to imagine how the great north land might look, my first view of Greenland stunned me. Greenland has no roads or railways connecting its towns and so transport is achieved by fixed wing planes, ships and choppers. In winter, even ships are prevented from reaching many northern ports by the southward march of pack ice.
Many smaller towns have no air strip and can be reached only by helicopter.
Unoccupied seats were folded back and the floor stacked with mail, boxes of fruit, mixed freight and a sporty looking outboard motor. The whole craft shuddered as the rotors gathered momentum. A shuffling herd of musk oxen crowded together in a valley and welcomed me with disgusted scowls. The Sikorsky crested a ridge and Narsaq appeared, looking like toytown at the foot of an imposing green-clad mountain. The mighty whirlybird set down on a concrete apron but my head was still spinning with possibilities.