Tired of the nine to five, father of two Richard Whittall quit his job, did something clever with a Merc and hauled his family to the Arctic. Danielle Green stamps the snow off her feet and hears his tale.

Fess up dear reader. How many times have you blundered in after another grim day in sales and marketing/IT support ( delete as appropriate) and declared to assembled partner, progeny and pets that that's it, you're quitting the rat race and going on that big adventure you've been banging on about for years? Then blobbed in front of the telly, all resolve laid to waste in a frenzy of Buffy, beer and Kettle Chips?

Imagine if instead you'd typed up that letter of resignation, then - ooh, let's say - customised a beat-up old Mercedes truck, and whisked your family off to one of the most inhospitable places on the planet. For, like, months. Well that's exactly what Wiltshire based IT Manager and father of two Richard Whittall did two years ago. Sick of the nine-to-five, he chucked in his job and embarked with wife Sara and their kids on a ten month road trip - culminating in an extended spell in the tundra wilderness of Norway's High Arctic, where the family lived among indigenous Sami reindeer herders.

Richard, whose daughters, Megan and Holly, were four and two when the family decided to take off, was earning a decent wedge, but his punishing work schedule meant he was missing out on his girls' lives.

'I was running a £10 million sales operation. I'd be out at 7 am and back at 7.30 pm. I never stopped. I'd wake up in the middle of the night with the solution to a problem I'd been thinking about earlier in the day. It was nuts,' he recalls.

'When you have children the pressure to work is overwhelming. People spend so much time trying to earn more money that they see less of their families; the conversation disintegrates and it all goes down the pan.'

The decision to get off the hamster wheel was also fuelled by recent world events. 'We'd planned a trip like this for a long time - perhaps when the girls were a bit older,' says Richard. 'But when 9/11 happened we just looked at each other and said 'right we're going now.' You never know what's around the corner, so you'd better live for today.'

Richard, no slouch with a spanner, set to work converting a Mercedes Unimog 1550L into an all-terrain motor home capable of handling anything the Arctic could throw at it. This involved fitting it out with central heating, fridge, freezer, solar power, flushing toilet and more gears that you can shake a dipstick at. 'It's the best four by four in the world,' he boasts. 'It has 48 gears, two wheel drive, four wheel drive, you can lock all the wheels together, hydraulics, pneumatics, three power take-offs - everything!' in fact at seven feet wide, ten feet tall and painted in a fetching - if eccentric - zebra print, the family's home for the next 10 months was quite the head- turner.

'At one point we were next to the [Norwegian/Russian] border travelling alongside a fjord. We were being tailed by a Russian gunboat which seemed to be wondering about the suitability of zebra stripes as disguise in a forest!' recounts Richard.

So, of all places, why, sweet Jesus, the Arctic? The Whittalls are a bit vague on this detail. But it seems that having spent a few months travelling across Europe's more southerly reaches, Scandinavia's laid back vibe brought the family on an ever more northward trajectory. 'There's so much space and people's attitude is great,' explains Richard. 'In the UK, everyone has a view on everything; in Scandinavian countries they don't. If you want to drive up a mountain, you drive up it. If you want to have a fire, you have a fire. If you need to cut a tree down to make the fire, you just do it. No-one's getting in your face.'

The simplicity of life was also a draw. Wife Sara expands. 'It's a back to basics lifestyle - very nature orientated. We wanted to get away from British materialism: away from the girls watching TV whenever they were bored.'

The Whittall's route took them from Newcastle to Kristiansand by ferry, up to Oslo and north through the Swedish interior where they crossed the Arctic Circle. Continuing north they traversed back into Norway and headed up to the Nordkapp - Europe's most northerly point. From here they made their way to Alta where they set up base camp and explored the surrounding region, spending much of their time in Kautokeino, which is home to the Sami (Lapp) reindeer herders, and marvelling at the spectacle of the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights).

Then it was on to Kirkenes, adjoining the Russian border; across to Ovre Pasvik National Park - Norway's last swathe of virgin taiga forest and home to wolves, wolverines, lynx and brown bears; and a slow descent down Norway's coastal side where the family was wowed with spectacular glaciers and fjords. They finally crossed back over to the other side of the Arctic Circle north of Trondheim from where they progressed to the Jotenheimen National Park, famous for its spectacular glaciers and plunging waterfalls.

But it was their time in Kautokeino, mucking in with the traditional reindeer herding tribes that made the most lasting impression. 'Adopted' by one of the Sami families, the Whittalls found themselves seamlessly integrated into the community. The Sami clan sold them reindeer skins to keep them warm in the lavvu (traditional Sami tepee-like dwellings) they were camping out in the mountains - where temperatures frequently dropped to minus 18 degrees. The family was also regularly invited over for the stock Sami dish of reindeer smoked over wood fires.

And what did the girls make of this more primitive way of life? 'They took it in their stride' says Richard, who adds that amazingly their one concession to 'civilisation', the portable TV brought on the journey, for 'emergencies' mouldered in the corner of the motorhome, unwatched for ten month.

'The kids never got bored. They learned masses and still draw from what they saw and the games - many of which are passed down through the centuries - they played with Sami children. They have a great imagination now.'