Dispatches from Greenland, Part Two: Nuuk
An insider’s guide to Greenland’s mysterious, overlooked, and charming capital.
By Natalie Compagno and Greg Freitas October 15, 2025
Greenland is too vast to take in all at once. Yet a few days in Nuuk—the island’s compact, curious capital, just a four-hour flight from Newark—offer a surprisingly complete portrait. Nuuk changes like the weather that shapes it: by turns wild and polished; intimate and bold. To Northerners, it feels as hectic as Manhattan; to diplomats, a confident Arctic capital; to travelers, a first glimpse of the North. But its true power lies in the subtleties—the quiet ways it invites visitors into Greenlandic life.
For travelers on the HX Expedition MS Fridtjof Nansen, this is where the story deepens. After disembarking, we arrived in Nuuk with a short list of names—locals whose insight would help us see the city from the inside out.
One of them was Sidsel Iversen, who moved from Denmark to Kangilinnguit (formerly Grønnedal) at the age of three. Today she resides in Nuuk, guiding visitors through its shifting layers. While filled with shops, restaurants, and hotels, Nuuk is still surrounded by nature. Iversen recommends beginning on the water, where whale safaris and fishing trips with Raw Arctic frame the city against endless sky. Nuuk is a hiking mecca, and for Iversen, the pull is always upward. The climb up Lille Malene is a rite of passage for anyone who wants to be called a Nuummioq, while Store Malene rises higher still, its ridgeline cutting nearly 2,500 feet into the clouds. Winter rewrites the script with northern lights and the ski slopes of Sisorarfiit, where the runs descend almost to the shoreline.
Back at sea level, ride the local bus that winds through neighborhoods like a moving portrait of daily life—something guidebook writer Sabine Barth recommends as one of the most revealing introductions to Nuuk. Barth also recommends climbing the steps of the Colonial Harbour to get in touch with Nuuk’s rich history. Colonial Harbour is Nuuk’s oldest district, where its seafaring past meets modern Greenland’s future.
That tension between old necessity and new expression runs through the city. Nuuk has always been a place of makers. Out of musk ox hides once came warmth and survival; today, the same fibers are transformed at Qiviut into knitwear as soft as air. Streetwear designer Bibi Chemnitz reimagines Greenlandic motifs for the present, while Katuaq, the cultural center, hums with energy from exhibitions, film, and the café at its heart.
Meals chart this same arc between tradition and modernity. Iversen recommends the tapas at Nivi—from musk ox and reindeer to the island’s bounteous seafood. Other top food options for visitors include Café Esmeralda, with its easy conviviality, and Hotel Hans Egede for its buffet of musk ox and reindeer. Barth also recommends the tasting menu at Sarfalik, a true feast of the Arctic. For warm, welcoming conviviality just steps from the harbor, the newer Hotel Aurora—opened by Iversen’s family in a reimagined industrial building—offers an intimate stay. Finish with a nightcap at Daddy’s, the pub where most evenings end in laughter.
As Iversen notes, the U.S.-focused tourism industry is as new for locals as it is for visitors. “We have to learn to get used to things,” she says. “This is an opportunity, not a burden.” Bea Husum Terkildsen, destinations manager at Visit Nuuk, concurs, viewing the capital as inseparable from the story of Greenland itself. Tourism, she explains, creates jobs, sustains traditions, and ties Nuuk more closely to the world. “Visitors from the U.S. bring valuable perspectives and connections,” she explains, “and by experiencing Greenland firsthand, they become part of our story at a time when our Arctic environment and communities are facing historic transitions.”
She urges visitors skyward—splurging on a helicopter ride circling Sermitsiaq, the mountain that guards the city like a watchtower. Like Barth, she loves climbing the wooden stairs above the Colonial Harbour to watch evening light stretch across the red-painted homes. “Walk up the stairs by the Colonial Harbour—the view is absolutely stunning, especially in the late summer evening light,” she says.
At the edge of the city, Nuuk’s striking Malik swimming pool glows like an iceberg under glass—its curved roof and vast windows mirroring the surrounding fjord and mountains. Inside, the sound of splashing salt mingles with laughter as locals and visitors swim laps, soak in the warm pool, or simply watch snow fall beyond the glass. More than a feat of Nordic architecture, Malik is a communal heartbeat—a place where the city gathers year-round to move, breathe, and stay connected through the long Arctic seasons.
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From there, the city unfolds in both directions: toward the sea, where history entered, and into the community, where it is being written anew. In Nuuk, whether you ride the bus, climb a mountain, or follow the harbor steps at dusk, you’re following the arc of a city whose story is still being forged.
Read Part One of our Greenland series for a journey through Ilulissat’s icebergs and fjords.