Vampires Rejoice as Utqiagvik Enters Darkness
Utqiaġvik, Alaska, the northernmost town in the United States and the unofficial capital of People Who Handle Cold Better Than the Rest of Us, has once again waved goodbye to the sun for its yearly two month vacation. The last sunrise has packed its bags, boarded a metaphorical plane and said “See you losers in late January.”
If you have never been in a place where the sun abandons you this long, imagine waking up one morning and realising your daylight has rage quit. Now imagine that continuing for sixty days. Now imagine you smile politely and say things like “That is fine, I love character building darkness.” That is Utqiaġvik.
Every year around mid November the sun slips below the horizon and refuses to return until late January. There is a bit of faint twilight at lunchtime if you squint, but mostly it is dark. Not cosy, movie night dark. More like “I guess the sky is a large void now” dark. This is the town’s normal seasonal rhythm and the locals handle it like absolute champions. Meanwhile visitors stand outside like confused penguins whispering “Is this… legal?”
And naturally all of this immediately reminds everyone of one thing: the film 30 Days of Night. That delightful feel good family movie in which a group of vampires descend upon a sunless Alaskan town and treat it like an all you can eat buffet. The film is set in Barrow which is the same place, just under its former name. The premise works because it is rooted in reality. Vampires need darkness and Utqiaġvik has the same relationship with sunlight that some people have with gym memberships. It is technically there. It just does not show up often.
That is why right now is the perfect time to visit if you want to feel like an extra in a horror movie without actually being torn in half by immortal monsters. The environment does the heavy lifting. You step off the plane and it is pitch black at two in the afternoon. You walk down the street and the wind hits you with the kind of force that makes you reassess all your major life decisions. You order a coffee at what your phone insists is “morning” only to be greeted by night skies that whisper “No, it is midnight forever actually, give up.”
The town itself is very safe of course. The vampires are fictional, though if one ever did show up it would probably apologise for interrupting and offer to shovel your driveway. In reality you will just be surrounded by friendly people, spectacular landscapes and a sense of mild existential panic whenever you glance at the clock.
And although the polar night is a serious scientific phenomenon caused by the Earth’s tilt, you cannot help but feel like nature is messing with you on purpose. Human bodies are wired to expect sunrise. Utqiaġvik says “Nah, we are good” and leaves your circadian rhythm doing cartwheels. Even your shadow gets confused and gives up.
Still, there is something magical about it all. The lack of light turns the landscape into a cinematic backdrop that even the best film studio could not reproduce. You stand outside in the cold, staring into complete darkness, and you think “Wow. I am either having a profound moment or I am about to be eaten.” That is the power of the place. It puts you right in the middle of your own psychological thriller while you are just trying to find the grocery store.
Fans of 30 Days of Night will recognise how perfectly the mood fits the film’s vibe. The fear of the unknown. The eerie silence. The constant feeling that something might be behind you but it is probably just the wind. Or your coat zipper. Or a snowdrift that looks suspiciously humanoid but is absolutely just snow. Definitely. Very probably. Almost certainly.
So if you have ever wanted to live inside a vampire movie without the inconvenience of being dismembered, Utqiaġvik is your destination. Bring warm clothes. Bring a good pair of boots. Bring a flashlight that could double as a lighthouse. And bring a sense of humour. You will need it when you realise it is four in the afternoon and you have absolutely no idea what day it is anymore.
Utqiaġvik embraces darkness with style, dignity and a remarkable amount of caffeine. It is weird. It is wonderful. It is unsettling in all the best ways. And for the next two months it is the closest you will ever get to stepping into 30 Days of Night without requiring a stake, holy water or quick thinking.
