Latest news with #Viking-esque
Business Insider
12-08-2025
- Business Insider
I'd become the kind of adult my younger self would have pitied. A weeklong Arctic retreat helped me find my way back.
Stephanie Pensa, 44, was starting to lose interest in both work and everyday life. A hiking retreat in the Arctic helped her reconnect with purpose after years of feeling lost. The personal growth came through nature, and a group of strangers who weren't afraid to be vulnerable. Reading "The Alchemist" in seventh grade shifted something in my psyche. Paulo Coelho's book, about a young shepherd who follows his dream in search of treasure and discovers his true purpose along the way, had such a profound effect that it guided me for the next 20 years. It solidified my desire to travel the world and seek adventure, leading me to live in Rome and Rio de Janeiro. My dreams dictated my life decisions. Later, after a divorce and a temporarily crippling disease, I moved back to the suburban town where I grew up. I started working in my family's business, of which I'm incredibly proud, but it's not my passion and doesn't fulfill me. Over time, I lost enthusiasm for daily life. Turning 40, I realized I'd become the kind of hollow adult my younger self would've pitied. Paving the way for change Something was missing; I was missing. I was craving the outdoors. So when I came across a weeklong hiking retreat with 10 strangers in a remote archipelago in the Arctic Circle, it felt like exactly what I'd been searching for. Arctic Dreams Retreats is run by Rachel Pohl, a professional artist, and her husband, Charles Post, an ecologist. I first came across Pohl a few years ago on Instagram's Explore page. Her long, Viking-esque blonde braids set against a snowy mountain backdrop caught my eye and compelled me to click. I learned she was from Montana and had once been on track to become a professional skier, but instead, she turned her love of painting into a career. Calling herself a "slightly chaotic shield maiden," Pohl was a breath of fresh air, sharing openly about vulnerability, kindness, and joyful silliness. I was instantly captivated and she came across as someone I wanted to be friends with. The couple, now in their 30s, moved to Lofoten, Norway, three and a half years ago. After struggling to make friends, they decided to host retreats — selecting the participants themselves — to share their adopted home with others. Having hosted two retreats so far, they like to joke, "We import our friends!" Something told me that a week in Lofoten might reignite my spark — I wanted in and got started on the application, which included thoughtful questions about core values like respect for nature, adaptability, and living well with others. Being offered a spot gave me a boost of hope. Later, Pohl and Post told me they choose people they'd feel comfortable welcoming into their lives. Bonding with strangers The nine retreat participants, ranging in age from 20 to 44, came from Canada, Wales, and several US states. The group I traveled with in June happened to be all women, but the retreat is gender-inclusive and open to all. Last year's inaugural group included a husband-and-wife duo. At our first lunch, Pohl asked the group, "What are you hoping to let go of this week?" The answers revealed that we'd all come to Lofoten seeking some form of personal transformation — amid loss, uncertainty, or self-doubt. Most of us were nature-loving introverts, drawn to the retreat's focus on wellness and introspection. I was thrilled to go — but also terrified. My physical fitness was at an all-time low (I love hiking, but I'm in the worst shape of my life), and my social anxiety wasn't helping. It took a few days to shake my self-consciousness. But as the week went on, I relaxed, focused on getting to know others, and stopped fixating on how I came across. We bonded quickly while tackling steep, unforgiving trails — like one with a 1,400-foot climb in the first mile, labeled "moderate" by Norwegian standards. Even the seasoned hikers from Colorado and Washington were out of breath. Each evening, we gathered for candlelit dinners in a cozy 1930s farmhouse, sharing laughs and stories around a long table adorned with wildflowers. The meals were all plant-based and locally sourced. It was during those meals that we enjoyed a rare harmony of strangers co-existing for a week in a faraway place. Inspiration for my next steps The endless daylight, constant symphony of Arctic birds, and wildflower-covered landscapes contributed to my healing. Jagged mountains rose from the sea, framing green valleys. A turning point came on the day we went sailing. Someone misread a message I'd written in our group chat and thought I wasn't joining. She shared how sad she was when she thought I wasn't coming and how happy she was when she found out I was. I was deeply moved to know my presence mattered. On our final night, I told her how much that moment meant to me. The retreat reconnected me with my "magical" self — the part that believes in deep connection, the power of dreams, and the quiet alchemy of nature and human curiosity. Though some of the post-trip bliss has faded, something in me shifted. I keep returning to the memory of standing on a mountaintop with new friends, wrapped in wool layers under the golden Midnight Sun, feeling more present and calm than I had in years. I don't know what's next, but I'm finally open to the search again.
Telegraph
25-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Cressida Cowell: ‘I want to make the mums laugh and the dads cry'
Cressida Cowell has spent years inventing battles from which her young Viking hero, Hiccup, can emerge bruised but victorious. He has conquered dragons, baddies, and his own insecurities, while Cowell has conquered the world. From a single book in 2003, How To Train Your Dragon has morphed into a global franchise that is popular from China to Brazil. But writing for children brings its own real-life battles: for their attention. 'We are fighting a really difficult situation, which is that the screen has never been better. The competition for children's time has got tougher and tougher,' she says, perched on the corner of an armchair in the living room of her west London home. 'As a writer you have to write books that are as exciting and are as worth their time and effort as going on a screen. And that is tough,' says Cowell, who is 58. A statement bracelet on her forearm adds edge to her black jumper and jeans combo. 'It's rather Viking-esque, isn't it? It was made by an architect and is empowering. It's like a battle cuff.' Films of her own books – there are three DreamWorks animations and a live action version comes out in June ('I've watched it. It was pretty terrific to see our creative industries in action,' she tells me) – are fine, though, because those cinema audiences turn into readers. 'I've had so many letters over the years from children saying, 'I wasn't really a reader, but then I saw these movies.'' She has a point: her various books, which she illustrates in the studio-cum-shed that nestles at the back of her tiny terraced garden, have sold more than 16 million copies worldwide. An entire theme park in Florida, due to open in May, will only further expand her franchise. 'It's going to be incredible,' she says. Fans looking to save on a US air fare could head, instead, to the Isle of Mull. A wildlife tour from Ulva Ferry, on Mull's western coast, will take them past the tiny, remote island of Little Colonsay, which Cowell's late father (Michael Hare, 2nd Viscount Blakenham, a former corporate and establishment heavyweight who was chairman of the RSPB and Kew Gardens) bought in the 1970s. Endless summers spent there as a child inspired her books, which mix text with emotive pen-and-ink sketches of Viking heroes, anti-heroes, and, of course, dragons. She sounds surprised the authorities on Mull have never capitalised on its link to Cowell's books. 'It's a decision for that part of the world, really, whether they want to. I mean, there it is, they could if they wanted to…' Cowell's work has always been 'very visual': the less text, the less off-putting the book, and indeed her new spin-off series How to Train Your Dragon School – out in May – will include even more illustrations, a gateway for the uninitiated. This isn't to denigrate a youngster's capabilities. Children, she says, are smart, adding that they can run into trouble finding books to read. 'If they can only access books up to their reading abilities, they can quickly feel that books are a bit dull compared to telly and everything else.' There is a simple solution, however. 'Audiobooks are a fantastic way into reading. There needs to be more emphasis on them. Some people do look down on them as lesser – maybe they seem like the easy option – but the most important thing when children are young is that [reading] is fun, so that they want to read the next thing, in whatever format.' (New research by the National Literacy Trust, released after our conversation, shows that children now prefer audiobooks to reading books for the first time. Just one in three children aged eight to 18 said they read for pleasure.) Parents and teachers need to make more time for reading out loud full stop, she adds. 'You should read aloud to kids way longer than they can read to themselves. At school, suddenly all the kids in a class are on the same level. They're not competing with each other on reading ability.' Another parental tip is not to pigeonhole their children. 'Parents, should never say, 'Oh, so and so is the reader and the other one doesn't read very much.'' Plus people change. One of her children (she has three; the youngest is at university) didn't get into books until they found The One: Louise Rennison's Angus, Thongs And Full-Frontal Snogging, as it happens. 'They were about 13 and that same kid went on to study English Literature.' Parents also need to lead by example. 'What's really helpful is if they see adults around them enjoying books themselves. I set out to make the dads cry and the mums laugh. If your dad reads you a book and he cries at the end of it, that sends this incredibly important message to a kid – that books are powerful things.' Cowell, who was the Children's Laureate from 2019 to 2021, has reason to be anxious about the outlook for her industry. A survey last year by the National Literacy Trust found children's reading enjoyment had fallen to its lowest level in almost two decades, while reading frequency is also at a historic low. Research shows children who read for pleasure are more likely to do well in school and own a house. She adds: 'The more your literacy points go up, the more likely it is that you won't end up in prison, that you'll have a job, that you'll vote. The problem is there are still children reading for pleasure but they tend to be from wealthier families, and that is a social problem kicked down the line.' Hope lies in initiatives such as the Libraries for Primaries, a privately funded alliance that has helped to open 1,000 libraries in three years. Even this isn't ideal. 'I feel uncomfortable that it's dealt with in a 'Let's have a whip round and provide some books for our particular school' because there isn't a nationwide strategy for addressing the problem.' Children need guidance. 'You need someone trained up in getting kids reading for pleasure. Finding something that excites them. You might start with a comic book or a book about football and then you can move them on to maybe something more complicated.' They also need help avoiding books that are bad, like the plethora churned out by celebrities who think they can write. 'If they're good, then great. But if not, then,' she pauses, '…it's a shame. If a child picks up too many books that don't excite them, then they will eventually think, 'Oh books, there's not much in them,'' she says. Her own childhood love of books is evident from a bookshelf of faded old editions that lines one of the walls behind her. Many belonged to her father, while some belonged to her father's grandfather: the Shakespeare plays and the Trollopes. Others are childhood favourites: Peter Pan, Treasure Island, books by Diana Wynne Jones, Astrid Lindgren, Ursula le Guin, and Violet Needham. She credits internal pressure to live up to some of her family's weightier presences – her uncle was head of the US Supreme Court – for inspiring her writing. 'Embedded in the books is little me looking up at these giants and thinking, 'How am I ever going to measure up to these huge people,' she pauses, splitting with laughter, 'who are being Big Business People, or Supreme Court people. What am I going to do to impress them?' As well as writing about dragons, she is 'also writing about what it takes to be a leader. That's also probably because I had a lot of people chatting about big political questions over my head.' Saving Generation Alpha from illiteracy would be quite the legacy. I wouldn't put it past her to pull it off.
