It is impossible to translate the beauty of what I witnessed whilst aboard the Hurtigruten through the written word. No man possesses the capacity to truly capture the serene, still magnificence of the waterfall, nor the overwhelming gracefulness of the light show which followed. Nonetheless, I feel compelled to turn to my diary to give the reader some sense of the wonder I am currently experiencing.

At about eleven a.m., the Hurtigruten rounded the riverbend of the Geirangerfjord, and the Seven Sisters waterfall appeared. I am not ashamed to say that my stomach fluttered with infant-like anticipation as the ship edged closer and closer, until I was face to face with one of the most remarkable sights I have ever seen. Climbing up the rocky outcrop from the fjord were seven opaque paths of white ice, adorned with spindly branches that splintered and diverged infinitely. I have never seen anything of the sort. The frozen streams appeared to me as the ethereal locks of the sisters themselves, blowing in the cosmic winds. Elle grabbed my hand, sensing I was overwhelmed.

‘It is truly breathtaking, chéri,’ Karine said to Pip, embracing him, before turning to the group. ‘Why do they call the waterfall the Seven Sisters?’

‘Bo can answer that one,’ Elle replied, smiling up at me.

‘Oh, of course,’ I said. ‘In this particular case, the legend states that the seven streams – or “Sisters” – dance playfully down the mountain, as they tease and “flirt” with that waterfall over there.’ I pointed to the single stream of water on the opposite side of the fjord. ‘He is known as “the Suitor”. I must say, it’s not my favourite legend that concerns the Seven Sisters, but I am fascinated by their appearances in almost every culture and time period.’

‘Please, Bo, continue,’ Pip asked, with what seemed like a genuine interest.

‘Different cultures believe different things. But for millennia, they have been immortalised in the famous star cluster, and are objects of fascination and wonder across the globe. Tales of the Sisters have been passed on by word of mouth, poetry, art, music, architecture . . . they are embedded in every facet of our world.’

‘Do you know, Bo D’Aplièse,’ Pip said, ‘in the three years that I have known you, that is the most I’ve ever heard you talk!’ He wasn’t wrong, and his comment caused us all to break into laughter.

The passage up from Tromsø eventually became so choppy that Karine decided to go to her cabin, and Elle volunteered to take her down. The steward had announced that this was our best vantage point to see the Northern Lights from, so Pip stayed for a while.

‘You spoke so passionately about the Seven Sisters earlier. Tell me, how do you know so much about the stars?’ he asked.

‘My father was a teacher.’

‘Oh really? Of what?’

I felt safe enough in giving Pip the information he was after. ‘Music and Classics. The latter encompasses philosophy, anthropology, art, history . . . plus astrology and mythology. He was particularly fascinated by the relationship between the final two.’ I smiled at the memory. ‘Naturally, he passed that fascination on to me.’

‘This was back in Paris?’ Pip asked.

‘Er, yes, that’s right. In Paris. He served as a private tutor for . . . wealthy clients.’ The latter sentence was not a lie.

Pip gave a chuckle. ‘It explains your intelligence, Bo. I am not ashamed to admit that it is far greater than my own.’

I shook my head. ‘My friend, I am the one who is jealous of you! Step back and look at your life. You are a member of the Bergen Philharmonic orchestra! The Hero Concerto is going to have success beyond your imagination, and you have a beautiful family,’ I replied honestly. ‘No doubt baby Felix will be missing you today.’

Pip leant on the railings of the Hurtigruten. ‘I’m sure he’s happy enough with his bestemor and bestefar. Thank you for your kind words, Bo. Though we both know that if it wasn’t for your blasted arm, we’d be looking across at one another in the orchestra pit.’

I smiled. ‘Perhaps, in another life.’

Pip looked wistfully out to the black water. ‘I love Karine so very much, Bo. I feel like the luckiest man that has ever lived.’ He reached into his pocket and produced what appeared to be a small ornament. ‘Before I moved to Leipzig to attend the conservatory, my father gave me this.’

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘This, my friend, is a lucky frog . . . or so my father tells me. They say that Edvard Grieg used to keep them dotted around his home to bring him good fortune. Apparently this one belonged to my grandmother, Anna. Here.’ He handed it to me. ‘It’s yours.’

‘Goodness, Pip, I could never take this. It’s a family heirloom.’

‘Bo, it has brought me all the luck in the universe, so it only seems fair that I should pass it on so another may benefit.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I wish that you and Elle may live without fear.’

I was deeply moved. ‘Pip, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. You know, I really should go to Karine. She’s awfully seasick. Are you going to stay out here?’ he asked.

‘All night, if that’s what it takes to see the lights.’ Pip put a friendly hand on my shoulder and walked inside.

My eyes were glued to the night sky, which remained crystal clear above me. I am not sure how long I stood there for. Hours, perhaps, bathing in the starlight and communing with my sparkling guardians.

At some stage the Pleiades disappeared from view. I blinked hard, and when I reopened my eyes, the sky above me was covered by a shimmering, iridescent cloak that danced and pulsed across the heavens. I stood in awe beneath the sheer brilliance, the gleam . . . the lustrous luminosity of the lights . . . What a privilege it was to witness the vast cosmic beauty of our universe, greater than any man-made work of art or architecture.

After a few minutes, the Aurora Borealis disappeared as mysteriously and abruptly as it had arrived. I couldn’t help but break out into ecstatic laughter. I even threw my hands up and cried out, ‘THANK YOU!’ which shocked a few of my fellow stargazers on the deck.

Soon after, dawn broke over the tranquil waters of the North Cape. In no time at all, we would be turning back towards Bergen. Eventually, I walked back inside the boat to wake Elle and tell her about what I had seen. On the way to our cabin, I passed through the dining room, and saw Pip and Karine sitting down for breakfast. I jogged over to them.

‘My friend, I saw them! I saw the miracle! And its majesty was enough to convince even the most fervent non-believer in a higher power. The colours . . . green, yellow, blue . . . the entire sky was lit with radiance! I . . .’ I found myself choking on my words, before recovering. I reached my arms out to Pip and clasped him in a hug, which I’m relatively certain took him by surprise. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

Feeling like I was floating on air, I waltzed downstairs and into my cabin, where Elle was peacefully slumbering.

I will never forget the night the sky danced for me.