There are two dozen of us standing on an otherwise deserted Norwegian beach in sub-zero temperatures staring up at the nocturnal sky. Not the standard finale to a short break. But then not every vacation programme holds out the tantalising prospect of a glimpse of the Northern Lights.

The lights - or Aurora Borealis, to give them their formal title - are a capricious beast. The previous group on our programme got to view them on three consecutive nights. Yet a couple in our party were on their fifth visit to the region without so much as a sniff. Aurora forecasts and apps had been consulted regularly during the first three days of the trip, based in Harstad, a picturesque municipality of 25,000 inhabitants incorporating numerous islands and islets.

In daylight, the views out to sea are stunning, particularly in winter sun, and the freshness of the air almost makes you forget the cold as you wander its snow-lapped streets. The sky as dusk falls is also pretty spectacular. But it's the dark, crisp conditions that bring out the lights and the weather had not been playing ball.

So it took just two words from the Inghams rep, Craig - "They're up" - to send diners in our hotel scurrying back to their rooms to don the requisite multi-layers of warm clothing. Then it was half an hour by coach to the beach during which an accompanying photographer explained the best way to capture the perfect image. The know-alls among the tour party had brought along tripods and sophisticated photographic equipment. As we were to discover, basic cameras and smartphones really don't pass muster.

Should you (as we had) been seduced by descriptions of a colourful explosion of light dancing across the sky, the actuality does not necessarily match the brochure. Warmed briefly by some hot blackcurrant juice thoughtfully provided by our local guide, the naked eye picked up changing spectral shapes of grey and white. Weird and compelling, if not quite what we had been anticipating. Yet when we looked at the images taken on the fancy cameras, a very different skyline emerged, illuminated by a powerful greenish hue.

Getting there

Inghams offers three and four night breaks on the Island and Fjord Adventure from £899, with direct flights and hotel transfers.
The package is based on half board and includes the Umami dinner experience with wine and daily excursions.
For more information visit www.inghams.co.uk or ring 01483 791101.

If seeing the lights was the icing on the cake, Inghams' Fjord Adventure had plenty of satisfying guaranteed ingredients, not least culinary. Having reached Harstad by coach in 35 minutes after a direct flight from London to Evenes, we had some free time on the first afternoon to explore the central area, basically a square with a few connected streets leading to the harbour on one side and housing on the other. That drivers will even stop on roundabouts for pedestrians is attributable as much to local courtesy than Norway's stringent motoring regulations. We found the small commercial district refreshingly free of high street names (just an H&M and, bizarrely, a Specsavers). But it does feature some cosy tea places and a number of high end restaurants.

In Norway, Harstad is noted for its gastronomic excellence and given the high cost of just about everything -menu browsing outside a basic restaurant, I calculated that the cheapest pizza cost the equivalent of around £14 - it was good news that the package included dinner at Umami, across the road from our hotel.

Its young chefs Sigrid Rafaelson and Kim Harvard Larsen served up an exceptional three-course meal, plus appetisers, in the intimate dining area, with Larsen providing pre-course explanations. The menu majored on local produce and our generous hosts also offered top notch champagne and paired wines, a welcome addition as alcohol prices are stratospheric. We were told that locals travel to Sweden to do their wine shopping.

Another dining highlight came at lunchtime on our second full day. We had made an early start to join Hurtigruten cruise ship passengers for breakfast and three hours of unspoilt views. An unexpected bonus was a grand tour of the vessel, which has just undergone a £130 million refit, before alighting at the small town of Finnsnes. We were then taken by coach through the spectacular island of Senja on the designated National Tourist Route. There were stops at points of incredible natural beauty where those without the snazzy cameras were able to take their best photos of the week, before reaching our lunch destination - Hamn i Senja (population 10) for a fish main course in the eponymous hotel restaurant. For post-prandial entertainment, we cautiously traversed the icy trail to the lighthouse at the rear of the building to take in additional Atlantic panorama.

More esoteric refreshment was on offer in Harstad in a capacious tent with a roaring, and constantly replenished, fire belonging to the Sami people, who are indigenous to the Arctic region. The welcoming tipple of apple-based spirit came in slippery receptacles - glasses made from icy water.

Other examples of Sami handicraft were on show as our hosts, dressed in garish traditional costume, proudly discussed their history, culture, occupations (reindeer herding is a big thing) and battles against assimilation and prejudice, as well as the difficulty in keeping their language alive. By the night's end, we were marvelling at the breadth of the reindeer-based goods market, best exemplified by the soft rugs covering the seating.

But probably the most welcome snack of the five-day trip was a bowl or two of simple fish soup served in an isolated cabin at the midpoint of our excursion on a 12-seater RIB (rigid inflatable boat) to explore the surrounding coastline and wildlife under the expert care of a former military man and a police chief. The wetsuits provided offered protection against water spray - particularly on the much speedier return journey - if not against the biting cold and face-freezing wind-chill.

Access issues have diminished the numbers living on the remote islands, although we were told that some of the rustic cabins are popular as holiday retreats. The fishing industry remains vitally important. Passing a "small" salmon farm, I speculated on the number of fish therein. My guess turned out to be staggeringly on the low side. The true answer? One million, I was informed matter-of-factly.

In Harstad, the shops shut on Sunday and early the previous day. Repairing to a boisterous local hostelry at midnight on Saturday, we quickly realised that the longish weekend must largely be a means to give locals sufficient party and recovery time.

A three-piece band was belting out rock covers to a significantly inebriated crowd for whom the price of drinks seemed no deterrent.

As the tipsy but friendly throng took unsteadily to the dancefloor, there was enormous people-watching potential. The revelry was still in full swing when we made for the exit at 2.30.

One regular attempting to do likewise was ordered back inside with the reprimand: "Don't be a pussy."

For us, though, it was (Northern) lights out.