This is the real version, a working Russian mining settlement with real working people, no ghosts here. But you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise; being on ships time we've arrived early, no one else is up yet and there's no sign of life. There's no sun either and the early dim light coupled with the overcast weather doesn't fill a heart with cheer. Barentsburg runs at a loss, but like other nations, it's here to maintain a presence in Svalbard. There's a drab heavy silence as we trudge up the steep icy steps from the harbour. I wonder what the residents will think of our presence, I'm not entirely comfortable with it myself.

Our group splits up and I find myself alone at the far end of town. I'm on a stationary conveyor belt that's used to transport coal; it's rickety and I'm cautiously clambering over it. The wind is whipping up a mixture of coal dust and snow and I'm trying to shelter my camera from the worst of it. I'm feeling self conscious of my camera. What I'm taking now is simply a snapshot and probably not be a true picture, certainly not the whole picture. I don't want to do the residents or the place a disservice. I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable clicking away; what I'm looking at may be visually compelling and inspiring, but recording it by camera doesn't feel like the right medium somehow.

Over my shoulder I see a solitary dark figure standing nearby, watching me. I tuck the camera into my bag and climb down to say hello. He throws me a toothless smile and shuffles his feet. Not speaking each other's language we both make clumsy attempts at conversation and laugh. Regardless of the lack of understanding, the spoken language is only one form of communication, real smiles can be stronger than digital images. He gives me a cheery wave as I go on my way.

Before I head back to the boat, I leave a gift. This time it's a piece of marble from the quarry on Iona, a pale cream and green pebble lighting up the dark shadows beneath the conveyor belt where I've tied it to. I hope my new friend finds and keeps it, as a thank you for his smile which I'll take home with me.