I arrived a little early at "base camp" (a toasty wooden cabin with washroom facilities and a restaurant), where reception staff immediately offered me a hot drink.

A kind employee then offered to take me on a guided tour to get the lay of the land.

Stepping out the back door, I was giddy at the sight of four igloos surrounded by pine trees and strung-up fairy lights. The backdrop of the frozen lake made the novelty accommodation even more impressive.

As the first igloo guest to arrive for the day, I had the pick of the bunch.

The igloos were a remarkable feat of architecture, a true winter wonderland.

A staff member told me that the lodge savvily creates them by inflating a huge balloon and dumping tons of snow on top. Once the walls are intact, a local artist begins carving unique decorations in each room.

The whole building process takes about a day, and the igloo I stayed in was built only a week before my trip.

Once I selected my igloo, I got settled in.

There were no doors — I entered my lodging by pulling aside a heavy cloth curtain. Inside, a double bed topped with reindeer pelts sat underneath an ice carving of a horse head, illuminated by delicately hung lights.

Back inside the base camp, I lined my stomach with a hearty Margherita pizza and charged my phone to prepare for my night in the igloo.

Then, I started layering up.

The staff emphasized the risk of frostbite, saying it was vital that I dress appropriately and remain in the sleeping bag overnight. However, the base camp would remain open for anyone who got too cold or needed a complimentary hot drink.

I went with a full-body merino base layer, thermal waterproof trousers, woolen sweaters, and woolly socks. It was hardly my trendiest look, but it was definitely comfortable.

I tested its warmth with regular dashes outside onto the frozen lake, gazing up at the stars and trying to see the northern lights.

By 9:30 p.m., it was bedtime. Staff members handed out pillows and sleeping bags with liners, provided a short safety briefing, and offered us hot water bottles.

Once I was tucked in, all my nerves drifted away. Although it was -12 degrees Celsius, or about 10 degrees Fahrenheit, outside, the temperature gauge inside the igloo hovered closer to 3 C.

The cold had a calming effect, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt.

Scandinavian parents famously let their babies nap outside in prams in freezing temperatures to improve their sleep quality. Over 10 hours of blissful sleep later, bundled in my multiple layers, I could see why.

I woke up feeling refreshed and rested.

Since the igloo was relatively affordable, I had the dispensable budget to treat myself to an optional add-on activity.

After a complimentary breakfast of toast, eggs, and salad, I stored my bags at reception and waited to be picked up for a $60 tour of a husky farm.

I met the dogs and watched training demonstrations while drinking hot berry juice to warm up. Then, I set off on a quick self-guided hike up the Soutaja Fell.

Lucky Ranch's location was a dream for adventurous tourists like me. The rural setting was a far cry from the urban bustle of Rovaniemi — where much of Lapland's winter tourism takes place.

I found the experience priceless, which is ironic considering it was one of the most budget-friendly options.

Between the beautiful property and the great night's sleep, I can't wait to come back. Next time, I'd definitely book a longer stay.

My train left at 11:13 p.m., so after checking out of my hotel at midday, I went and found a place to store my luggage in the city.

I also had hours to kill before boarding, so I visited the Senate Square Christmas Market, Temppeliaukio Church, and the Allas Sea Pool — working up a sweat in saunas then jumping in freezing water.

However, I later learned that many of Helsinki's hotels offer a late-night checkout package for these late-night trains. I don't regret my afternoon in the city, but others might prefer a quick power nap before the overnight journey.

My seat was about 47 euros, but the ability to book neighboring seats at a reduced rate was a game changer.

I added the 21-euro upgrade on a whim, but it really improved my experience. At 5-foot-3, I comfortably curled across two carpeted seats and managed to get some shut-eye.

Because I was traveling during peak season, all the carriages were booked. If I hadn't reserved the seat next to me, I would've been sleeping upright like a sardine with a neighbor.

I felt pretty smug being horizontal.

The biggest kicker was the conductor's insistence on keeping the carriage lights on overnight, apparently to prevent pickpocketing.

I get the gist of the strategy, but I'm actually not sure how effective it was for that purpose — everyone just covered their faces with their coats instead.

I'd undertaken a similar rail journey in Sweden last year and slept like a baby in the darkened passenger cabin. The low lighting even allowed me to spot the northern lights from the window. On the Santa Express? No such luck.

Sleeping with the lights on was much harder. In hindsight, I should've brought an eye mask or invested in a private cabin (40 to 160 euros) where I could control the light switch.

I'd been worried about food quality on the train, so I hurriedly ate before boarding.

In hindsight, I didn't need to scarf down an 11 p.m. dinner. The train's restaurant car had an impressively varied menu.

Food service stayed open for dinner until 2 a.m. and reopened for breakfast at 4 a.m. There was a mixture of refrigerated sandwiches, pizzas, pastries, and alcoholic, hot, or soft drinks.

Around an hour into the journey, both my mobile data and the train's complimentary WiFi stopped working.

I'd read other travelers' online reviews, and many people said that this would happen, but I hadn't expected it so early on in the trip, especially since we were still riding past fairly built-up suburbs.

Fortunately, I'd prepared for a digital detox and was carrying a pen and paper to jot down story ideas. Old school? Yes, but I have to admit it really amplified the feeling of adventure.

I'm happy that I snapped a picture of the toilets while boarding, as they looked pretty messy within two hours. It was a shame, as the decor and skylights were quite pretty.

On reflection, the situation wasn't helped by the small sinks — water splattered everywhere with each use of the tap.

Throughout the trip, they were usable but unappealing enough to make you think twice about drinking a coffee too fast.

My ride on the Santa Express was sadly Santa-free aside from the large illustrations adorning the carriage exteriors.

There was no festive dress-up or meet-and-greet on board, but the platform was magical nonetheless.

Carol singers erupted with Christmas songs, and barrier staff exchanged secret grins before allowing floods of giddy families onto the platform in festive Rovaniemi.

The excitement was infectious as I headed toward Santa Claus Village and the remainder of my trip in Lapland.