A calm, sunny day and a zodiac landing on the stony beach at Fjortende Julibreen (14th July) Bay, at the base of a steep mountain ridge that rises from sea level to a height of almost 1000m, with views of the similarly named glacier (79°N).
There was a tricky climb to the top of the ridge, and an even trickier descent, but all the slipping and sliding and hanging onto rocks for dear life was worth it.
The following day, another zodiac landing. Phippsoya island (80°N), the northernmost island in the Seven Islands Archipelago, the northernmost point of Svalbard.
Uninhabited by humans, of course, and little in the way of vegetation but, on the beach, bleached tree trunks from Siberia, washed up during stormy weather, and evidence of the plastic pollution that is threatening the Arctic's fragile ecosystem.
Then, which from a distance appeared to be a pile of rocks, the welcoming committee, one of whom bore a remarkably close resemblance to Aunty M's one-time neighbour.