My Norwegian Christmas Adventure Part 3: a very Norwegian Christmas: dog sledding, saunas, sleigh bells, and the friendships that made it all shine.
When I booked this trip to Norway, I knew I needed December to feel different. I needed space, structure, and something joyful to anchor myself to. This Gutsy Girls trip gave me all of that. Yes, in the big, expansive ways – the ski tours, the Northern Lights, the wild winter landscapes. But also in something gentler: a Christmas wrapped in community, tradition, and small delights.
Part three of my short series is about those moments: the sleigh ride through misty forests, the dog sledding at sunset, the daily yoga sessions that stretched tired muscles back to life, the sauna and ice plunge that left me buzzing, and the hotel’s full‑hearted Christmas Eve celebrations. And the laughter, the cookies, the singing, the gifts, and the sense of belonging that surprised me in the best way.
If you’ve watched the daily videos, you’ll have seen glimpses this already – the cosy corners, the festive chaos, the belly laughs. But here’s the story behind those clips: the softer side of a Norwegian Christmas adventure, and the part that made the week feel complete.
Those Daily Yoga Sessions
The trip was billed as a cross‑country skiing and yoga retreat, and Venabu delivered on that promise beautifully. For every day we spent out on skis, there was a yoga session led by one of the hotel’s qualified instructors – gentle, stretching‑focused yoga designed to ease tired muscles rather than send anyone into deep introspection.
As a yoga novice who’s only dipped in and out over the years, I felt well catered for in almost every session. There was one class that was much more advanced, full of poses I’d never attempted, but even that ended up being fun in its own wobbly, slightly chaotic way. Mostly, though, the sessions were slow, restorative, and exactly what my body needed.
We’d gather in the warm basement room, peel off a few layers, and coax life back into muscles we didn’t know cross‑country skiing used. After hours of gliding, climbing, wobbling, and falling, those long, deliberate stretches softened the edges of the day. Skiing demanded focus and balance; yoga gave us space to breathe and reset. The rhythm of the week settled into something comforting: ski, tea, yoga, sauna, dinner. Especially on days when I felt tired, sniffly, or overwhelmed, yoga helped me come back to myself.
And doing it as a group made it even lovelier. Eight women moving through poses, trying not to laugh when we wobbled, sighing with relief when a stretch hit the right spot. A gentle, communal pause in the middle of all the adventure. A reminder that rest must always be part of adventure.
Sleigh Bells and Horses
The horse sleigh ride was like stepping into a storybook: misty air, jingling bells, and a landscape softened by fog. One of the ladies said it was one Turkish Delight short of Narnia, and I think that is probably all the description you need.
We climbed into two traditional sleighs pulled by sturdy Norwegian horses, their breath rising in clouds as they carried us through the quiet forest. The bells weren’t just for atmosphere; they’re a requirement in winter, a centuries‑old safety measure to warn others on snowy trails. Something about that detail made the whole experience feel even more rooted in place.
We were on the edge of Rondane National Park, home to one of Europe’s last wild reindeer herds, and you could feel the history of the land in the stillness around us. The Saami people, the indigenous people of northern Scandinavia, have lived with and alongside reindeer for generations, and while this wasn’t a Saami‑led experience, the landscape itself carried their stories.
After half an hour of gliding through the snow, faces frozen but hearts warm, we ducked into a traditional Saami‑style lavvu shelter. A fire crackled in the centre, and a local host served us gløgg and cookies while telling stories about the horses, the region, and winter life in the mountains. Everything smelled of woodsmoke – my coat, my hair, my gloves – and I loved it.
As with the yoga, this was a gentle, atmospheric pause in the middle of an active week. A reminder that winter isn’t just something to move through, it’s something to sit inside, too.
Dog Sledding at Sunset
I’ve been dog sledding before (in Ruka, Finland), and knew I would enjoy it. As mentioned in part two, the schedule shifted because of an incoming storm, which meant we had our sledding taster session on a clear, crisp afternoon as the sky turned golden and pink as the sun dipped behind the hills. The Alaskan huskies were already buzzing with excitement when we arrived, tails wagging, paws dancing, voices rising in that unmistakable husky chorus of combined joy and impatience.
We split into groups and took turns riding in the sled or standing on the back, watching the landscape rush by. It was cold, freezing my cheeks and making my eyes water, but it didn’t matter. The moment the dogs started running, everything else fell away. The speed of their paws, the swish of the sled, the soft light on the snow – it was a thrill for dogs and humans alike.
While it was a mostly smooth way to whizz through the landscape, there was also chaos involved. When it was my turn on the back there was a worrying moment when we set off before I was quite ready. I mean, I really wasn’t ready – I did well to not fly off the back like a cartoon character, only staying put thanks to sheer grit and determination!
The dog sledding felt wild and free and deeply peaceful all at once. And seeing parts of the landscape we hadn’t reached on skis made it feel like a bonus adventure – a glimpse into the wider wilderness around Venabu. It was over too quickly, as all the best things are. But it left me with a grin that lasted the rest of the day.
Sauna and Ice Plunge
The sauna and ice plunge at Venabu certainly the catalyst for what has become my Sauna Stories series. Led by Line and Ursula, we gathered in the outdoor sauna in the dark of the early evening, the air outside cold and still. I’d experienced Fellside Sauna earlier in the month, so I felt a little more prepared than some, but my heart still raced as we stepped out into the darkness.
The hotel has a couple of saunas open daily for guests, and we made good use of them. But the sauna used for this ice‑plunge experience was separate, set up outside, right on the edge of the frozen lake, with a hole cut into the ice for proper cold‑water immersion. It was a good size, with space for the whole group to sit and heat up from the inside out, plus a small area to change.
In turn, we rushed outside for the plunge. It was quick – a couple of steps down the ladder, a deep breath, a crouch to get my shoulders under – but the feeling was electric. The water was one degree. The air was minus one. And yet I felt both completely in control and exhilarated at the same time. I climbed out buzzing, skin tingling, and hurried back into the sauna grinning like a fool. It was all caught on camera if you want to see.
A couple of the group weren’t done and ran off to make snow angels; I joined them to film the chaos, laughing the whole time. It was one of those moments that felt both ridiculous and profound, a reminder that joy hides in the unexpected if you’re willing to say yes. Honestly, if you’ve never tried sauna and ice plunge, do it.
Sledging Down the Big Hill
The ‘guided’ part of our trip ended on the Friday night, but with a couple of hours to spare on the Saturday morning before we went our separate ways, a few of us decided to go sledging down the big hill beside the hotel. I mean, we’d been looking at it every day for a week thinking how much fun sliding down it would be – so we had to test the theory!
It was spontaneous, silly, and exactly what I needed in that moment. The hill was steep enough to feel thrilling but safe enough that we could throw ourselves into it without overthinking. And the sledges – those little vacuum‑formed bits of plastic – turned out to be surprisingly speedy. I discovered, to my delight, that I’m actually quite good at steering them… a small, unexpected achievement at the end of a week full of bigger ones. We raced each other, shrieked with laughter, and trudged back up the hill again and again, cheeks burning from the cold and the joy of it all.
There was something wonderfully childlike about it; no real technique to master, no poles to coordinate, no tracks to follow. Just gravity, snow, and the freedom to play. After days of learning new skills and pushing ourselves in all the best ways, this felt like a release. A final burst of uncomplicated fun before the goodbyes began. It was the perfect last‑morning memory.
Celebrating Christmas the Norwegian Way
You’ll know from my post about memories that I needed Christmas to be unmistakably different – and that was the whole reason for going away. And somehow, everything came together to give me exactly that. It was still Christmas, but it was new: the ‘big day’ itself being candlelit and communal in a way I could never have imagined.
It felt like I’d stepped into a tradition tended for generations; warm, wholehearted, and deeply rooted. Venabu Fjellhotell went all in, not in a flashy or commercial way, but in a generous way designed to be shared. Yes, we were paying guests, but it didn’t feel transactional. It felt like being welcomed into something cherished.
The Christmas Eve festivities began with a walk down to the little church in Venabu as the sun set in a blaze of colour. The service was entirely in Norwegian, of course, but it didn’t matter. We sang carols (fifteen of them…), listened to readings, and sat with locals who had been coming here their whole lives (and knew all the actions!).
Back at the hotel, the festivities continued with a toast in the lounge, followed by a traditional Christmas Eve dinner of mushroom soup, pork belly with lingonberries, and a (some might say tasteless) dessert they’ve been serving since the 1960s. After dinner came seven kinds of Christmas cookies, more carols, dancing in rings around the tree, and then the moment that made us all grin like children: Santa arriving with a sack of individually wrapped gifts for every guest. Mine was a jar of local honey. It even had my name on it. I was touched by that.
It was everything I needed: familiar enough to feel like Christmas, different enough to feel allowed.
The Group: The Heart of the Week
I said at the beginning I was not looking for friendship. But none of this would have been the same without the women I shared it with. Eight strangers who, over the course of a week, became a little winter family. We laughed – constantly. Cheered each other on. Waited for each other on hills, shared snacks, swapped stories, and stood shoulder‑to‑shoulder under the Northern Lights. Celebrated tiny wins, comforted each other through wobbles, and created memories that still make me smile now.
There was no pressure to perform, no competition, no awkwardness. Just warmth, humour, and a shared willingness to say yes to whatever the day held. Some of my favourite moments weren’t the organised activities at all, but the in‑between ones: tea in the lounge, chats in the sauna, giggles in the cold while waiting for the aurora to appear, the collective ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ when it did.
I didn’t realise how much I needed that sense of community until I was in the middle of it. After feeling isolated in ways I haven’t been able to articulate, being part of a supportive group like this was therapeutic in its own quiet way. They were the heart of the week, and a big part of why this trip became a core memory.
Carrying it all Home
And just like that, the Venabu chapter came to an end. It was a week that began with a quiet hope for something different and unfolded into something far richer than I could have planned. When I booked this trip, I wanted December to feel gentler. I wanted space, structure, and a new memory to anchor myself to. And I got that.
I found joy in movement, in learning to ski, in snowshoeing through deep powder, in gliding across frozen lakes under bluebird skies. There was wonder in the landscape: the Northern Lights that kept showing up for us, the frozen waterfall tucked deep in the forest, the stillness of the mountains. I found comfort in ritual: yoga, sauna, shared meals. And I found connection in a group of women who laughed with me, encouraged me, and made even the coldest nights feel warm.
And woven through all of it was Gutsy Girls. The trip was brilliantly organised: full of adventure but with a thoughtful balance of rest, reflection, and gentle structure. It was the perfect setting to learn a new skill, to switch off from everyday life, and to feel held while doing something completely new. Our host, Lily, was calm, capable, and quietly brilliant. And our guide and instructor, Ingrid, was exceptional: knowledgeable, patient, funny, and endlessly encouraging. Between them, they created a space where new friends, new skills, and new memories could take root.
This was a well‑chosen adventure for this particular Christmas. A reset. A reminder. A week that stitched itself into my memory with threads of snow, laughter, green skies, and the kind of joy that lingers long after you’ve come home. I feel it every time I think about Venabu – a little spark of something bright.
Watch the Series
If you want to see the whole journey – the skiing, the sleigh rides, the sauna plunges, the aurora nights – all the daily videos are already up on my YouTube channel.
But my trip write-up hasn’t quite finished yet… Next up I’ll take you through my 48 hours in Oslo, a city I fell for instantly, and one I’m already planning to return to.
The Trip: Notes and Logistics
I booked the Cross-Country Ski and Yoga Retreat with Gutsy Girls, a company offering adventurous experiences in the outdoors for women. I researched and booked the trip myself.
The week was based at Venabu Fjellhotell, which sits on the Venabygdsfjellet plateau, on the edge of the Rondane National Park, Norway.
I flew from Heathrow to Oslo with BA, got the train from Oslo to Ringebu, where the Gutsy Girls part of the trip took over. After that, I spent three nights in Oslo on a city break before returning home.
If you are looking at this trip or something similar and want some travel information or tips, I’m very happy to help. Similarly, if you have any questions about the Gutsy Girls trip, learning to cross-country ski, or any of the other activities I did, even what I wore, then feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to be useful.
I would highly recommend Gutsy Girls as a company, this specific trip, Venabu, and Oslo, to you all.
