So with down parka and trusty camera on hand, I landed in the tiny airport in which a huge stuffed polar bear stands poised over the baggage carousel, ready to pounce.
I had a day and a half to wander each and every street, alley and pathway in the crunchy, frigid north land The north has its own brand of tranquility; the expanse of sky is wider and darker, brimming with starlight; the air is pure - turbo charged with oxygen; and there is a dead silence between sounds.
The town is friendly and welcoming with an unexpected Hawaiian-like aloha vibe. These people are well versed in going with the flow. Faces of all colours and cultures from far away places dot the citizen-scape. My cab driver explained that he was an engineer from Sudan who was driving a cab until other work opened up. The woman behind the check-in counter at my hotel was Philippino and expressed her envy of city shopping when I told her where I was from. When I asked if there were any Asian food restaurants she laughed; apparently there is a booming Asian population and there are an abundance of Vietnamese and Chinese food restaurants. Who knew?
There is art everywhere, from professional polished bronze carvings affixed on buildings, to grassroots flavoured, hand-painted scenes on garage doors.
As I peered out the plane window, with the frozen terrain fading into the clouds, I couldn't help thinking that this magical place is indeed one of the last frontiers; a mystery waiting to be discovered. Lucky me.
Here are a few captures from Yellowknife: