If you're planning an Arctic adventure, there’s no better way to experience the best places to visit in Alaska than on a cruise. From the breathtaking wilderness of Denali National Park to the icy beauty of the Mendenhall Glacier and the cultural charm of Juneau, Alaska offers a once-in-a-lifetime journey. This guide takes you through the must-see destinations, local experiences, and insider tips for an unforgettable Alaskan odyssey.
It is hot in Alaska—and I am not afraid of sounding foolish saying so—though Denali National Park lies barely 230 miles south of the Arctic Circle. It is early June, and I am awake at 2:40 a.m. in Denali because the small table fan in my warm, stuffy hotel room makes more noise than it cools. Despite the thick curtains, I can see it is still light outside.
I take a moment to reflect on the utter unsuitability of the contents of the suitcase I brought to Denali. The words of Lucy, from the B&B in Vancouver, come back to me: “I wouldn’t go to Alaska without my fleecies, my dear. It snowed in Anchorage last week.” It had. So I prepared myself for Alaska with thermals, gloves, waterproof quilted jackets and, of course, the fleecies.
Denali National Park spans six million acres, encompassing lowland forests of poplar, aspen, and paper birch; stretches of tundra with hardy plants and lichens; and the towering Alaska Range. At 20,320 feet, Mount McKinley is the park’s crown jewel—the highest peak in North America—rising sheer above the surrounding mountains as though it floats in the sky.
The Athabascan people of Alaska called it Denali, meaning “The High One.” Though the park retained this original name, political considerations ensured the mountain was long known as Mount McKinley, after William McKinley, U.S. presidential candidate in 1896 and later president.
The next day, I take the shuttle into the park. It is still early in the tourist season, and large patches of snow remain on the ground. Yet the dry scrub terrain is prone to fires—warning signs everywhere declare: Fire Danger Very High and Fire Permit Required.
As part of the first batch of visitors to the park, I am fortunate to have clear visibility on this unusually warm, sunny day. We spot the “big four”—moose, caribou, Dall sheep, and grizzly bears (a mother with her cub)—and, as a bonus, a fox still in its winter coat. Soon, three more buses arrive, packed with tourists, necks craned, cameras and binoculars at the ready.
Every year, Denali welcomes an estimated 400,000 visitors. In peak season, it has often been compared to London’s Oxford Street in July. Even now, on my return to Denali Village, I count nearly 20 coaches parked outside hotels and near the marketplace.
The village has about two dozen shops selling souvenirs, snacks, ice cream, and cold drinks. I buy a hat to shield myself from the sun. Unsurprisingly, there is an Indian restaurant—Bombay Deluxe—and at one end of the market stands a slightly crooked signpost listing distances to major world capitals. The furthest is New Delhi, 5,708 miles away.
The capital of Alaska is unique in that it can be reached only by boat or plane. Small seaplanes line Auke Bay, where the water ripples blue and gold in the bright sunshine.
Juneau is the seat of government, but from May to September it is overrun by tourists. Its main thoroughfare, Egan Drive, stretches for about 42 miles before coming to a dead end. Each year, nearly nine million cruise ship passengers pass through Juneau.
It is also one of the best places in the world to spot humpback whales—some tour operators even promise refunds if none are sighted—as well as orcas, sea lions, and more.
Our excursion is a success. In addition to whales, we are lucky enough to spot a pod of frolicking orcas just 50 feet away. Three smaller boats edge even closer, barely a few feet from the animals.
Regulations require a minimum distance of 100 feet, but ultimately the wildlife decides how close it comes. I can’t help feeling a little aggrieved, though—most of my photographs capture more boat than orca.
Another highlight of Juneau is the Mendenhall Glacier, often called the “drive-in glacier” because of its easy accessibility. Some say this convenience detracts from the remote, pristine image we associate with glaciers, yet it remains breathtakingly beautiful.
Its 1.5-mile face rises above forests, streams, and small lakes, with ice and floes glinting blue in the strong sun (by now, I am beyond surprise). Locals in shorts are out sunbathing, while children splash in the pools. I, meanwhile, am hot, thirsty, desperate for shade—and in urgent need to shed a few layers.
Most cruise ships dock at three Alaskan towns—Ketchikan, Juneau, and Skagway—and in all of them, the largest, most glittering shops along the harbour are jewellery stores. Apparently, something about a cruise unlocks the human shopping gene.
Visitors splurge not only on the Northern Lights gem—a topaz with green, maroon, and reddish hues (guilty)—but also on diamonds and other precious stones. Tanzanite, a rare blue gem from Tanzania, seems to be the latest craze.
In Juneau, I meet Mukund Bathija, a young Indian who moved from Mumbai 10 years ago and now runs one of the town’s largest jewellery shops. He tells me business is flourishing, and I believe him: last year, jewellery sales revenue reached nearly $25 million.
Cruises, it seems, bring out in equal measure both the romantic impulse and a willing suspension of thrift and common sense.
In 1867, U.S. Secretary of State William Seward signed a treaty to purchase Alaska from Russia for $7.2 million—less than two cents an acre. This vast wilderness prospered through whaling, salmon runs, and canning, but truly came into the spotlight during the late 19th-century Yukon gold rush.
Stories abound of the hardships faced by prospectors as they trudged into the mountains. Only about 40 percent made it, and of those, just a handful struck it rich. One would-be prospector gave up halfway and began repairing the shoes of others pushing onward, charging five dollars per pair. He is remembered today as the man who founded the successful Nordstrom chain of stores.
Alaska’s largest city has long attracted settlers from distant and diverse places. Many I spoke to said they came for its laid-back lifestyle and, despite the long sunless winters, enjoyed the warmth of close-knit social interaction.
The Trans-Alaska Pipeline, which runs 300 miles from the city, has also shaped the state’s fortunes. A portion of its profits supports Alaska’s residents: every year, the U.S. government distributes roughly $1,000 (depending on annual earnings) to each family member. What began as compensation for those who lost land to the pipeline has since become a dividend shared by all residents.
Three of the long-distance coaches I travelled on were driven by women. They not only handled the driving and the loading and unloading of luggage but also kept the journeys lively with their commentary.
From explaining that caribou and reindeer are essentially the same species (the latter being domesticated), to pointing out Sarah Palin’s house, to offering advice on navigating Alaska’s unpredictable weather—they were endlessly engaging.
One driver, Anna, summed up the local wisdom with a smile: “There is no bad weather. There is only bad clothing.” A fact I had been made uncomfortably aware of in the past few days.
Alaska cruises typically depart from either Seattle, USA, or Vancouver, Canada. We chose a seven-day voyage from Vancouver. Both cities are well connected by air to major destinations around the world, making them convenient starting points.
Most Alaska cruises stop at Ketchikan, Skagway, Juneau, and Icy Strait Point, with many itineraries also sailing up to the Hubbard Glacier. Our route went all the way to Seward, as we planned to continue on to Denali. Seven-day cruises, however, offer multiple route options to choose from.
At every port of call, cruise passengers can choose from a range of excursions—boat trips to spot marine life, coach rides into the mountains, visits to the Mendenhall Glacier, or even journeys into Canada’s Yukon (a Canadian visa is required for the latter).
Cruise fares typically start at around $900 per person and rise depending on the cabin, stateroom, or suite selected. It’s best to book well in advance, especially for peak season in July and August.
We disembarked at Seward and took a coach to Anchorage—a comfortable journey of about 4–5 hours. From there, we continued on to Denali National Park, another 4–5 hours by road with breaks for tea, coffee, and snacks.
Visitors may choose to spend time in Anchorage, exploring the Anchorage Museum of History and Art, the Alaska Zoo, or the Alaska Aviation Heritage Museum. The town is pedestrian-friendly, with cabs readily available.
Alaska, meanwhile, is a paradise for outdoor enthusiasts, offering opportunities for cycling, trekking, camping, and even gold panning.
The best time to visit Alaska is between May and September. The weather, however, can be unpredictable, so it’s wise to carry light woollens and a warm windcheater.
Disclaimer: This story was originally published on in July 2017 and is being republished for our readers. Please note that some information, including timings, prices, or regulations, may have changed since the time of writing.
What are the best places to visit in Alaska on a cruise?
Denali National Park, Juneau, Skagway, Mendenhall Glacier, and Glacier Bay are some top picks.
When is the best time to visit Alaska?
The best time to visit Alaska is between May and September for pleasant weather and cruise availability.
How many days do you need in Alaska?
A 7–10 day trip is ideal for experiencing major attractions and scenic cruises.
Is an Alaska cruise worth it?
Yes, an Alaska cruise offers unique access to glaciers, fjords, and coastal towns that are hard to reach by land.
Can you see the Northern Lights in Alaska?
Yes, the Northern Lights are visible in Alaska from late August to April, especially in Fairbanks and the interior.
