Greenland is a country divided by the ice, with the west and east being both linguistically and historically very different. By far the majority of the population, 52,000 out of only 56,000 people, lives in the west, and since this is the world’s largest island it actually makes us the least populated country in the world.

To some people that’s fantastic news in terms of leg room, peace and quiet, and breathing space, to others the mere thought of that much distance between tiny communities induces an acute fear of open spaces, while for those of us who live here it is simply a property of everyday life that we deal with when exploring our own country.

One of the great benefits of a land as vast as Greenland is the invitation to become a domestic traveler and still feel like you’re going off the edge of your own known map.

I live in Sisimiut, the second largest town in the country, 5,500 people on a tiny, rocky promontory just north of the Arctic Circle, and to us “over here” on the west coast, generally East Greenland is the “over there”. And the relationship, as defined by the West, even has an air of classic center-and-periphery to the narrative through the use of the West Greenlandic word “Tunu” for East Greenland, which literally means “the backside”.

However, for me, as for so many other people, traveling is all about those backsides, interstices, and supposed backwaters that open up to you as worlds full of people, places, life and great travel experiences once you’re there.