“Norway’s Midnight Sun Adventure: A Scenic Road Trip”

Ladies and Gentlemen, on the Windshield — Norway!

An overnight stay near a cemetery; a moose’s near miss; a trash rally; the eternal anticipation of a fine.

I can’t understand how it happened, but I found myself yearning for a thermal shirt and winter hat instead of the seaside sun this summer…

Well, actually, I know.

Just take a look at this.

If this were in GTA — I'd go straight ahead — If this were in GTA — I’d go straight ahead.

So, on June 31 — I cast a sad glance at my trunks and pack my hat into my backpack, which closely clings to my back every day, but will soon be a corner fixture in the car trunk.

Both Lisa and I, as well as Nadia, Phil, and Dasha, decided to tread Norwegian soil and donate blood to Norwegian mosquitoes. As usual, we didn’t bring anyone else — there just isn’t room in the car.

Phil and Dasha had already been photographing strange sculptures in Oslo for three days, waiting for us there, while Lisa was working as a photographer in Iceland and would fly from there directly to Norway, and Nadia and I were dully heading towards Scandinavia, unaware that we would be sleeping outside the airport in Wroclaw during a transfer. In the blink of an eye (in fact, it was more like 10,000 blinks—we boarded the plane, flew, disembarked at the Norwegian airport, retrieved our luggage), we rented a car and awaited Lisa’s arrival, coffee in hand.

And now a part of the text that not everyone could read, would I be a car nerd, but instead—everyone will manage.

It’s best to rent a car with a reservation. Doing it in advance saves money. We rented from Budget. We opted for the minimal insurance included with the rental car price. They offer several types of insurance:

“pay us very little and worry about every scratch,”

“pay a bit more and worry a bit less,”

“pay a fortune and wash a horse in it if you like, or listen to Seroff all day—we don’t care.”

We chose the first option. In the end, all was well. But when we scraped the bottom, I turned pale; thinking it was a plastic bag, but it turned out to be a metal object that struck us several times underneath— I turned blue. And when we descended from a precipice, rolling down on the roof and blowing up from beneath, I realized it was not my memory but a movie, perhaps Rumpelstiltskin.

Moreover, Norway is a country with very high fines for traffic violations. The lightest fine is for driving without headlights on; in Norway, they must always be on. This is to give Norwegians the illusion that driving beetles bring joy. Or exceed the speed limit, even by a kilometer. The entire road is strewn with surveillance cameras equipped with automatic ticket issuing features. Each rental car has a transmitter of information and so on. Afterward, it’s just a matter of causing an infraction, and eventually, you’ll get a penalty. Oh, I read all this information thoroughly, and I remained in endless anticipation of such a miracle. Right? Think and anticipate these facts in the article since I anticipated fines for long after the trip.

The main advantage the summer north provides to a traveler is the length of the daylight, bound only by human needs (unfortunately, sleep must sometimes occur). While the white nights also promise endless sunsets, Norwegian weather does not gift such souvenirs too often, favoring clear, if only occasionally, skies instead. But in the rare chance it complies, be prepared.

Let’s set the record straight in the phrase “the practical part of the journey.”

We spent a week in Norway. We purchased one piece of baggage for the five of us. It held tents, sleeping bags, and food (Dasha and Phil had the freeze-dried meals, while we had various cereals). It’s worth noting that if you plan to embark on more-than-average active traveling in the near future, you should start gradually acquiring cool camping gear, which, regrettably, costs a lot. Yet, it helps save backpack space significantly and dramatically increases the comfort of experiencing nature.

We haven’t managed to keep up with Phil in acquiring this gear—he has mats the size of matchboxes, a tent with the dimensions of a needle eye, and a kayak as big as a kayak (it remains unpurchased yet). In short, many of his items are of downsized proportions. Our camping items, however, have the appropriate sizes matching their respective categories. But we invested in inflatable mats, and it’s pure bliss! Even slightly unnerved by the realization of sleeping on one’s breath. But it’s softer, more comfortable, and warmer. Hence, folding dishes, nanomats, and tents, super-light sleeping bags, stoves with radiators, thermal clothing, and trekking shoes—not merely expensive trinkets, but incredibly useful things that unmistakably redefine modern tourism.

Also in the luggage were two stoves (we bought the canisters on site) and two packs of excellent coffee ground for the Aeropress (may you be hallowed, Aeropress, your will be done). We took warm clothes in the carry-on, shoes, and of course, the Aeropress itself.

In broad strokes, this was the setup that let us affordably gallivant in one of the world’s priciest nations. And the “willingness and unpretentiousness” should be stashed in a pocket. It ultimately is a week of sleeping in a hat—fit for a niche.

Phil's burner with radiator — The prized possession of Phil—a burner with a radiator. Proven to boil water several times faster than a regular burner. Consequently, saving not only a lot of time but also gas.

Let me say right away that considering the country’s high cost, we spent very little (about 100 euros per person for food and fuel/toll roads/ferry). It’s way less than we hoped to spend, and much less than we feared spending. The main expenses were gas and toll roads, plus the ferries across the fjords. We spent precisely zero on accommodation and no more on food than we would at home. What can I say? The very reason to journey to Norway—the mountains, fjords, glaciers, forests, waterfalls, rivers, and moose—is all here for about nothing.

Once again confirming that in expensive countries, you usually spend less than anticipated. You’re forced to find ways, to think about the rationale behind each expenditure. So take note!

Close this material part with the summary—some savings, some trips to Nepal that got canceled with purchased tickets. The most exquisite lies ahead! The crumbs of memories that stayed with us almost a year after the trip.

A DAY THAT IS NOT—THE FIRST

If you zoom in, you'll see the man behind is very envious of my outfit — If you zoom in, you’ll see the man behind is very envious of my outfit.

After meeting Lisa, we got into the car and headed toward Oslo, where Phil and Dasha awaited us. Nadia gazed out the window, Lisa navigated using Maps.me, and I was drenched, trying to comprehend some of the signs whizzing past at 80 km/h. On the road, the first camera—I checked if our lights were on, smiled, hoping a smile would sweeten the experience if a fine came through the mail with a penalty figure.

The crew gladly greeted us in Oslo and delivered the cheerful news that the weather forecast for the coming week was rain, fog, and cold. I perceived these three words as fine, fine, fine. I couldn’t think of anything else due to my tendency. Like in the Babkin song—”hid and doesn’t breathe,” I studied the car, rules, and driving manners. Phil sat upfront, and I asked him to guide me out of the city. Serving as a navigator, the girls behind (let’s shortcut the names) discussed the Oslo park with sculptures, while upfront, I asked Phil questions: straight here? left here?

As it happened, if Phil and I were given the riddle: “four wheels and rolls,” we would answer—two bicycles. That’s our closest vehicle type. Therefore, Phil wasn’t versed in proper road guidance, and I wasn’t versed in its proper interpretation. Hence, the “turn left” directive was taken literally, realizing something wrong when people attempted to board our vehicle like a bus. We stood on a road designating access only for buses or trams, surrounded by two-side curb segments with passengers. A bus stood ahead, barring further progress. I tried reversing quickly, but the tram behind pressured forth. Our vehicle was ensnared in a trap of shame. The folks found nothing better than a hearty laugh in unison. I, too, later laughed. Only after envisioning the combination: fine-license suspension-jail-death penalty-removal of all my stand-ups from the web. The bus moved, and we left without taking anyone in, even for money. But a clear thought lodged in my head: Fine number one.

Having exited the city, I felt relief. We cranked up the music (unlike the Iceland trip, where Icelandic radio with hassles enchanted us with songs played by a dwarf violinist, we preloaded beloved tracks on a flash drive and downloaded in AppleMusic) and made our way to the first stop.

Considering the remaining half-day, we planned to immediately start progressing northward, intending to trail a small trek to Kings view and find our first night’s stay.

The delightful website VisitNorway states that King Carl Johan strolled this path in 1832, and the thrilled Norwegians decided to name the viewpoint in his honor. The path was named quite literally after Carl Johan’s stroll on it in 1832. The view is indeed quite impressive, perhaps befitting royalty.

Phil looks at Norway like a king, however not very royal in shorts — Phil looks at Norway like a king; however, not very royal in shorts!

The little track itself is very pleasant, not demanding, meandering through a picturesque forest and ferns, with signposts of wisdom and life tips sprinkled by Norwegians as a delightful bonus.