After visiting over 80 countries, the Arctic had always been on Harris Dro’s bucket list. Last year, he joined M/S Sjøveien on a Svalbard expedition as both a traveller and photographer. Surrounded by raw, remote islands and incredible wildlife, Harris was struck by the rare feeling of being completely present, disconnected from the modern world, and travelling in a small group where friendships quickly formed. In this interview, he shares his reflections and favorite moments from the journey.
My real purpose is to capture the beauty of this planet and share it in a way that inspires others
Was this your first time visiting Svalbard? What drew you to the Arctic?
Yes, it was my first time, and it had been on my radar for a long time before I finally made it happen. A few things drew me there.
The first was genuine curiosity about how people actually live in such an extreme and remote environment. Longyearbyen is unlike anywhere else on Earth and I found that fascinating. There's something deeply compelling about human resilience in a place that nature so clearly dominates.
The second was wildlife. The Arctic represents one of the last truly wild frontiers, and the opportunity to encounter polar bears, walruses, Arctic foxes and seabirds in their natural habitat, not through a fence or a screen, but in open wilderness, was something I'd long wanted to experience firsthand.
And then there's the history. The story of Arctic exploration is one of the most extraordinary chapters in human endeavour. The courage, the hardship, the ambition of those early expeditions to the North Pole, visiting Svalbard felt like stepping into that history.
All three of those things came together in Svalbard in a way I don't think they do anywhere else, which is what made it such a compelling destination.
Could you briefly tell us about yourself?
I grew up in Vrachneika, a small seaside village in Greece, where the natural world was always close at hand. That upbringing shaped a deep connection with nature that has stayed with me ever since. I moved to Athens for my studies, then to London for my master's degree, and I've now been based in London for the past 20 years working in financial services.
But while my professional life has been firmly rooted in the corporate world, my heart has always been out in the wild. I've travelled to over 80 countries, and the vast majority of those trips have been driven by a desire to experience nature and encounter wildlife in their natural habitats. It's not just about ticking destinations off a list, it's about genuinely immersing myself in those environments.
Photography has become the way I make that experience meaningful beyond the moment. I focus on wildlife and landscape photography, and my real purpose is to capture the beauty of this planet and share it in a way that inspires others, not just to explore, but to care about what they're exploring. That's ultimately what brought me to Svalbard with Polar Quest last year: the chance to go somewhere truly raw and remote, and to witness, and document, a world that very few people ever get to see.
Svalbard is one of those rare places that you have to feel to understand.
How would you describe Svalbard to someone who has never been there? What made the biggest impression on you?
My honest advice to anyone considering it: go, without hesitation. Don't overthink it, don't wait for the right moment, just go.
As for describing it, I'll be upfront: I'm not sure words fully do it justice. Svalbard is one of those rare places that you have to feel to understand. But if I had to choose two words, they would be raw and remote.
The rawness hits you the moment you step outside. The air itself feels different – cleaner, sharper, almost alive in a way that's hard to articulate. There's nothing softened or curated about the landscape. It's nature completely on its own terms, and you feel that in your bones.
The remoteness is something else entirely. Out on the water, you can go for days without seeing another vessel. No other ships on the horizon, no signs of human activity – just open Arctic ocean, glaciers, and sky. And with no mobile signal out there either, you're truly cut off from the rest of the world. In a society where we're constantly connected and reachable, that disconnection was not an inconvenience - it was a gift! It forced a kind of presence that's increasingly rare in everyday life.
Sitting in the wood-fired hot tub on deck after jumping into the freezing Arctic sea is something I won't forget for as long as I live.
Could you describe your impressions of M/S Sjøveien and the atmosphere on board?
The M/S Sjøveien is a beautiful old ship – built back in 1964 in Bergen, with a real sense of character and history to her. I know she was refurbished as an expedition vessel but she retains that classic feel, which I loved. The atmosphere on board was warm and relaxed, the crew were wonderful, the food was far better than I expected, and the shared spaces like the lounge and dining room became a natural gathering point at the end of each day.
There's also a wood-fired hot tub on deck, which sounds like a small detail, but sitting in it after jumping into the freezing Arctic sea is something I won't forget for as long as I live. The ship just felt so authentic and functional at the same time, and perfectly suited to where she was taking us.
And then there was my cabin - two small round portholes right at sea level, so lying there you felt like you were almost on the surface of the water. Watching the Arctic sea through those windows and sometimes seeing the walruses just next to it was genuinely magical!
By the end of the trip, these weren't just fellow travellers. They were friends.
How was it travelling in a small group of only 12 people?
It was one of the most unexpectedly beautiful parts of the whole experience. And the connection actually started before we even boarded when we first met each other in Longyearbyen the day before departure, and something began forming there and then.
On a ship that small, you meet people from all over the world who share a similar mindset, a love of nature, a spirit of adventure, but who have lived completely different lives. That combination makes for genuinely rich conversation and real connection, not just small talk.
And without mobile signal, there was nothing pulling anyone away. No phones, no scrolling, just presence. With the landscape, with the wildlife, and with each other. Going out on the Zodiacs together every day, sharing those moments of wonder side by side, created a bond that's quite hard to put into words. It's the kind of closeness that would take much longer to build in ordinary life.
By the end of the trip, these weren't just fellow travellers. They were friends. And the fact that it's now been a couple of months since we last saw each other and we are still very much in touch says everything, I think.
Every moment has your full attention, and in return, every moment feels richer and more vivid.
Could you describe the feeling of being “disconnected” from the rest of the world, something quite unusual these days?
It's something that's genuinely hard to articulate until you've experienced it, because most of us have forgotten what it actually feels like.
We live in a world where being reachable is the default. Your phone is the first thing you look at in the morning and the last thing you check at night. There's always a notification, always a message, always something pulling at your attention. We've normalised that constant connectivity to the point where silence feels uncomfortable.
Out there, that silence was simply imposed on you and at first, there's a moment of adjustment. You reach for your phone instinctively and then remember. But that moment passes very quickly, and what replaces it is something I can only describe as relief.
Suddenly you are completely present. You're not half-watching a glacier while checking your emails. You're just watching the glacier. You're not half-listening to a conversation while glancing at a notification. You're just listening. Every moment has your full attention, and in return, every moment feels richer and more vivid.
I came back genuinely changed by that and I would love to experience this again.
I didn't take a single picture. I was so completely lost in the moment that it never even crossed my mind.
Do you have any especially memorable moments you would like to share?
There are so many, but one stands out above the rest.
One morning I was woken up at around 5:30am by a noise I didn't recognise, something unfamiliar and a very distinct smell in the air. The ship was anchored close to land and something told me to get up. I threw some clothes on and headed up to the deck.
And there they were. A huge colony of walruses, right next to us. I stood there in the early morning stillness, completely alone on deck, just watching them. But the best part was still to come. About five minutes later, I noticed that 10 to 15 of them had slipped into the water and were heading towards the ship. Moving together as a group, slowly, curiously, coming to investigate us. It was extraordinary!
They spent the next 15 to 20 minutes circling the ship, inspecting it from every angle, before quietly heading back to shore. I will never forget that morning for as long as I live. And the funny part? I didn't take a single picture. I was so completely lost in the moment that it never even crossed my mind.
Please note. Depending on the lens used for photography or filming, an animal may appear closer than it actually is. We always follow current guidelines in the Arctic to ensure that we do not disturb the wildlife.