Emily Maitlis finds Roman Abramovich on an Arctic tour of Greenland

Add to My Stories We have been flying over Greenland for about 20 minutes trying to land. As we look down, we can see nothing. I don't mean we can't see anything, I mean we can see very clearly and there is nothing there.
There are no roads, no buildings, no sign whatsoever of human habitation and then, suddenly, shining out like a beacon, one small red hut. 'Good Lord,' exclaims my husband, Mark, 'a house.'
Despite the absence of any man-made obstacles, the touchdown is one of the most precarious I've experienced. Just feet from the ground, the wings of the plane begin to seesaw, and as we land the back rows of the plane give an explosion of applause.

Ice queen: Emily Maitlis explored the wilds of Greenland with her husbandI am always suspicious of people who clap on planes, worrying they know something I don't. But this time, my relief is so genuine and great that I am almost prepared to join in.
The hut, as it turns out, is Kangerlussuaq Airport. As we emerge from the plane, we see a sign telling us the North Pole is three hours and 15 minutes away and that New York is four hours.
I wonder how many Arctic explorers have stood at that crossroads, weighing up the prospect of a treacherous slog through the ice cap or a warm bagel in the Big Apple. For us, it's a reminder of just what a bizarre part of the world we are in. Not really Europe, not quite Canada - just cold and barren and, well, empty.
When Mark and I lived in Hong Kong years ago, we were amused to hear passing tourists describe the uninhabited islands of the South China Sea as 'just like Scotland'. It became a refrain in our marriage - the farther from the British Isles we would go, the more everywhere looked like a rocky Highland outpost.
We tried it in New Zealand. We may even have tried it on honeymoon in Namibia.
Sure enough, we have barely made it into the terminal here be! fore Mar k glimpses up at the bare rock and the sheeting rain and says: 'Hmm, all a bit like Aberdeen really.'

Dramatic: The stunning scenery is best taken in from the seaWe came across no passport controlat Kangerlussuaq - no security. There is just a door that you pushopen and a caf serving surprisingly tasty musk-ox stew.
And as we look up and see our onwardflight delayed by three hours, we learn our first Greenlandic lesson.What was it they told us? 'You'll need plenty of good reading materialand patience' - it's all starting to make sense. That evening - after further delays and a touchdown somewhere so remote it's starting to make Kangerlussuag look like Oxford Street - we check into the Arctic Hotel Ilulissat.

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From our bed, we look out onto icebergs and just outside the window sit husky dogs, tails curled around their snugly insulated bodies, snoozing in the light that will fail to dim for many more hours.
After a supper of reindeer steak and Greenlandic beer (was ever a drink served colder?) we take a boat trip to see the icebergs up close.
Our captain, Jens, is a salty seadog from North-Eastern Greenland. When he's not taking tourists out on whale-finding trips, he's a deep-sea diver.

Arctic welcome: Kangerlussuaq Airport is certainly a world away from Heathrow'How long can you stay in the waterfor?' I ask. It is no secret that of the freezing Arctic waters theelement Greenlanders fear most - the motto they live by - is thatif you're not scared of the! sea, yo u won't last a year. And from whereI'm standing on deck, surrounded by large chunks of glinting ice, thewater is mesmerising - but hardly inviting.
Jens is hardcore, though. Or at least, he turns on the machismo for me.
'I can stay in for hours', he says. 'Until I need to go pee.'
It is a fairly random reason toleave the deepest fathoms of the Arctic, but hey, no one can say theGreenlandic people aren't environmentally conscious.Clearly he knows the waters well. He guides us as close to the icebergs as he dares without setting off a mini avalanche. We see hollowed-out tunnels, beautiful blue ice and what appear to be strange footprints made by the current, the wind and the snow. The cliffs tower above us and the first sunshine of the day lights up the ice at about 10pm, only to disappear into a glorious sunset an hour later.

All white on the night: Polar bears lapping up the snowJens tells me about his childhood - the good old days when they were allowed to eat polar bear, his favourite dish.
'How did you cook it?' I ask. It is the strangest recipe I will ever request, but I am genuinely intrigued.
With a withering look, he replies: 'It tastes better raw.' I can't help thinking that the frozen-food store Iceland would have a field day here. The whole place is one big freezer meal if you're prepared to catch it.
He guides us away from the icebergs and we wonder where he is taking us, until suddenly the unmistakable swoosh of a humpback whale's tail flickers out of the water. We watch it for what feels like a good ten minutes without losing it.The next morning we are up at five,after a night that never truly got dark. We scramble back down to thedocks. Out at sea, we spot something that looks like a cruise ship -but it clearly has no cruisers on board to be docked so far from shore.
A rumour circulates that it is the toy of Roman Abramovich, complet! e with m issile defence capabilities and submarine.

World Heritage wonder: Pretty Ilulissat offers a welcome dash of colour to the landscapeToday we will go to see the glacierat the short - but unpronounceable - Eqi. It is 12 hours away byboat, there and back, and we will watch it calve - such a romantic,nurturing description of what happens to these huge blocks ofprehistoric ice when they break up. It is cold on deck and we are headto foot in thermals and ski gear. But down below, we read, play cardsand sketch views we might never be lucky enough to see again.There is no satellite signal, BlackBerrys don't work and the phones are down: we are at the ends of the earth.

A rare species: Emily Maitlis spots Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich at the Ilulissat airfieldOur guide is Aviaja. When we eventually reach the glacier, she picks up a sealskin drum and performs a Greenlandic dance on the top of the boat. It is an old superstition that is meant to weed out the uninvited guest at the party and make him leave. A bit like Jonah, I can't help thinking.
Here, the whales are plentiful. She shows us cliff markings where the glacier used to be, stressing the speed at which it has shrunk. The first tide mark is from the 1700s.
The second, of similar size, has formed in just 80 years. She tells us this without reproach. And in the same breath she says the ice is in the same place it was 3,000 years ago. The world got colder, and now warmer, it seems.
In the evening, safely back on dryland, we dine on a massive platter of fresh snow crab claws and localhalibut, rounded off with fortified Greenlandic coffee - a drinkspiked with every optic behind the bar at least once. Lethal, butdelicious. And we will worry about the hangover tomorrow.
By 9am we are standing at Ilulissat Airpor! t, being told, once again, that the flight out will be delayed.
After12 hours on a boat the previous day and endless delays the day beforethat, we are now used to Greenlandic time. I leave Mark in the terminaland work off the coffee with a few gulps of fresh cold air. The airportis surrounded by moorland and mountain tarns, so I take a hike. After afew minutes, a text message pings in my pocket. It is Mark beckoning meback to base, quickly.

I leg it and see why. There, standing on the airfield, surrounded by a few shuffling bodyguards, is Roman Abramovich - Chelsea FC owner, billionaire, former Siberian governor and, it seems, Greenland holidaymaker.
A few years ago, pride or social grace would have stopped me from bumbling over to him, rambling about my Chelsea-mad son and singing him a Russian love song. But now I don't think twice about it.
Before I know it, he signs an autograph for Milo and tells me that the Russian love song I'm singing is a favourite of his, sung to him by his mother.
It is just not a conversation I ever thought I would have at the Ilulissat airfield. Clearly, it was not one he was expecting either. Sometimes a missile-defence system and a submarine just aren't enough.
I wasn't sure what to expect to find in Greenland - rare species of every hue yes, but a Russian oligarch?
Perhaps the rarest of them all.

Travel Facts

A return flight from Copenhagen to Ilulissat in Greenland costs from 663 with Air Greenland,airgreenland.com.
BA flies from London to Copenhagen from 106 return, 0844 493 0787,ba.com. Double rooms at Hotel Arctic,hotel-arctic.gl, from 175 per night. For more information contact Greenland tourism, greenland.com.