Northern Europe | Midsummer Solstice in the Arctic Circle, a Wonderful Journey Collecting 'Planetary Extremes'

People always say, the solstice hasn't arrived, yet the solstice has already come.

What is the solstice? One of its manifestations is that the daylight hours in the Northern Hemisphere reach their longest of the year on this day. So long that around the solstice, there is no sunset inside the Arctic Circle, and no night in areas near it.

'Then why don't we spend the solstice in the Arctic Circle?' 'Let's go!'

So that year, our Northern Europe foursome went to Iceland at the beginning of the year, making the most of the few hours of daylight to see the scenery and chasing the Northern Lights in the long nights; mid-year we visited the remaining four Nordic countries, freely squandering the 24 hours of daylight given to us each day, embarking on a journey with no night.

If you ask me, what does it feel like to travel in the midnight sun? I'll tell you: as long as you're awake, you can travel anywhere; as long as you don't close the curtains, it's always daytime. Of course, the wonders of Nordic summer go far beyond the midnight sun—this is a journey so magical that as long as you're greedy enough and daring enough, your wishes will come true.

Taking off from London at night, strolling through the sunlit streets of Finland, the joy of the midnight sun begins.

Crossing the Arctic Circle line in Santa Claus Village, shaking Santa's hand and saying 'Happy Solstice,' earning your own Arctic Circle certificate.

Encountering Stockholm under a blanket of dark clouds—no night, no clear skies—feeling the authentic life of Nordic people amidst the gloom.

Getting lost in Sweden's incredible underground art, stopping at each station to explore the stories and art unique to that station.

Making Bergen our base camp, immersing ourselves in the clarity of the west coast nature. If you read this article, you'll fall in love with Norway too.

Taking 'the most incredible train route in the world,' weaving through plateaus, snowy mountains, valleys, forests, waterfalls, rivers, and villages.

Collecting one 'planetary extreme' after another in the unique fjords, experiencing Norway's most representative natural landscape, the soul of Norway.

Sitting by the Bryggen waterfront, watching the reflections of colorful wooden houses ripple under the midnight sun, marveling at this amazing sunless summer.

A dream-come-true day: by plane, ferry, car, and on foot, finally reaching the world's number one natural attraction, overlooking the Lysefjord from the cliff.

Flying to the next city in the early hours and at midnight, watching sunrise and sunset along the coastline from the air.

At the end of this wonderful journey, Denmark welcomed us with long-awaited sunshine and heat, along with the eternally shining fairy-tale world.

The Iceland trip earlier that year was so perfect that I wasn't really looking forward to this trip before departure—I just thought experiencing the midnight sun would be cool. But as I sat on the evening flight from London to Helsinki, watching the sky gradually brighten until it was embraced by sunlight, I began to look forward to it. This was destined to be another amazing trip.

In this article, let's go back to that magical plane and that wonderful night to start all over again.

This time we traveled to four Nordic countries: Finland, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. If I had to describe the travel and impressions of these four countries in four words, for Finland it would definitely be 'magical.'

Why magical? Because of the incredible midnight sun night tour, because we crossed the Arctic Circle, because we saw Santa Claus on the solstice, and because that Christmas we received postcards we had slowly mailed to each other during the trip.

Finland is a lovely country; its national flower is the lily of the valley, which symbolizes purity and happiness. On that bright night, walking through the empty city of Helsinki, we felt an equally surprising sensation: was this a familiar purity?

In the nature of Iceland at the beginning of the year, we experienced an unprecedented purity—whenever it was light, everything was white. That white was refreshing, a purity that allowed no impurities. In Helsinki, in summer, among the colorful city, we also felt purity—a kind of purity unforgettable to this day.

A cloudless sky, twinkling starlight everywhere telling us that between us and the sun there was only pure air, spotless; the Baltic Sea was as calm as a mirror, reflecting the azure sky; clean streets with no trash, the empty city so quiet you could almost hear an echo.

Pure Finland, as if washed by water, conveys a long-lasting happiness and beauty.

The first photo of this trip was the moment I described earlier, taken at midnight.

I learned about the midnight sun in textbooks as a child, but I never thought it would appear before me so suddenly. Flying northeast from London, in just under three hours, we went from night to day.

In Finland, our top destination was Rovaniemi, to spend the solstice inside the Arctic Circle. But there were no direct flights from London to Rovaniemi, so we had to transfer in Helsinki. We deliberately extended our layover to experience a fun 'midnight sun night tour' in the city center.

Helsinki is the capital of Finland, on the Baltic Sea. Located at 60°N, it is one of the highest-latitude capitals in the world.

Getting off at the central station, the first thing we saw was the National Gallery across the street. The National Gallery is Finland's largest collection of classical art and the first museum to collect Van Gogh's artworks.

The advantage of a night tour is the magical experience; the downside is that indoor venues don't open until real daytime—kind of like 'window shopping.' But for someone 'uncultured' like me who only loves natural scenery and architecture, the midnight sun night tour couldn't have been more wonderful.

Even as I write this now, describing that day feels fascinating. Imagine: the person in the photo is actually walking at night, and I took this sunny photo at night too.

The trams on the road were also running at night, passing us very quietly.

Empty streets—doesn't it feel surreal? Doesn't it look like a scene from a movie?

Remember what I said at the beginning? Traveling in the midnight sun means as long as you're awake, you can travel anywhere—and that's exactly what we were doing.

After walking for about five minutes, we arrived at Helsinki Cathedral.

Helsinki Cathedral is a landmark of Helsinki. Its pure white body is spotless, and the Greek columns and light blue bronze dome show the church's grandeur. Taking advantage of the empty space, my friends and I ran up and down the steps, taking many silly photos—I won't share them here. When we got tired, we sat on the steps of Senate Square for a quiet photo.

Senate Square, where Helsinki Cathedral stands, is the center of Helsinki's civic activities and the best place to admire Neoclassical architecture—an important Finnish landmark. In the center of the square stands a bronze statue of Tsar Alexander II, commemorating his granting of full autonomy to Finland.

Walking to the east side of the square, we saw a more three-dimensional view of the cathedral from the side. The cathedral is one of the three masterpieces of architect Carl Ludvig Engel; the other two can also be seen from the square: the Government Palace and the University of Helsinki.

Since returning from Iceland, I've loved taking photos of twinkling starlight—only possible where the sky is very clear. Through the Greek columns, I captured a record of this quiet, beautiful morning.

Helsinki has many trams, and the tracks are everywhere on the ground.

I enjoy strolling the streets, observing the unique characteristics and cultures of each city. Helsinki's tram tracks, along with the ubiquitous bike racks and parked bicycles, record life just like in the Netherlands.

On the way to the Orthodox church, we encountered a tram sparkling golden in the sunlight.

Walking to Uspenski Cathedral, we reached the Baltic Sea shore; the cathedral sits at the southwest corner of the harbor.

At the harbor, I again captured the twinkling starlight. This morning in Helsinki is the purest in my memory: pure sky, cloudless; pure streets, magical and peaceful; pure sea surface, calm as a mirror.

On the small bridge leading to the cathedral, there were many locks, holding many people's memories and thoughts. A pink lock from 2015 with two names engraved on it—probably a love story. I wonder if it's still going well.

Buildings in Helsinki are mostly built of light-colored granite, earning it the name 'White City of the North.' Uspenski Cathedral's gold-and-green domes and red brick walls are distinctive, in Russian architectural style. It has 13 golden domes, which is quite rare—13 is not a very good number in the West—highlighting the traces Russia left in Finland.

Speaking of my outfit, many people might recognize it as a once-popular trend from a certain period. Actually, by the time of this trip, it wasn't that popular in China anymore, but I was living in the UK at the time, and it was still very trendy there. We would still buy outfits in sets, the brighter the color, the more popular. My friends back home told me no one wore it in China anymore, but I didn't believe them and chose an orange set to take to Northern Europe.

When editing the photos for this travelogue, I thought about changing the color to something more current, but in the end, I kept it. Since it's a travelogue, it should stay true to what happened at that moment—both on the trip and on myself. That kind of memory is valuable and worth sharing.

The sunlight shone through the lock bridge onto the ground, casting low-angle, long shadows that stretched well.

No clouds, no wind—the Baltic Sea was like a mirror, faithfully reflecting everything on the ground.

There were many small shops by the shore. I don't understand Finnish, but I recognize numbers! I could see business hours and prices—they had written promotional info on a giant decorative fan, which was interesting.

Sitting on the empty shore, looking at the empty sea, I felt the purity that belongs only to Finland.

Helsinki, set against the sea, always looks clean and beautiful—whether it's summer blue skies, or winter drifting ice—earning it the nickname 'Daughter of the Baltic.'

This is the Havis Amanda statue, also called the 'Daughter of the Baltic' bronze statue, a symbol of Helsinki. Amanda faces the sea, her left hand under her chin, quietly gazing at the Gulf of Finland, often called the goddess of the sea.

On the way to the Chapel of Silence, we encountered a small park whose name I didn't find, but it was full of life.

I saw a theater that wasn't open, with benches lined up outside. It looked like there were often performances; the glass front probably opened up during shows.

I also saw Helsinki's summer blooming trees—very interesting.

Helsinki is cool all year round; I'm not sure if these are summer flowers or spring flowers, but they were blooming brilliantly.

There was also a pink bicycle that might have been an ad for a bike rental or sale. In Northern Europe, I felt truly illiterate—I could only understand pictures and numbers.

Walking on, we reached the Chapel of Silence, a great innovation in Finnish wooden architecture. Here, from lively to silent, it's just one step away.

I really like Finland's churches—truly a paradise for architecture lovers. Each church is less like a church than the last.

If the barrel-shaped church above still had some architectural sense, the Rock Church doesn't even look like a building. It's the only church in the world built inside solid rock, completely overturning the concept of a church—it looks like a landed UFO, with an entrance like a tunnel.

We were very interested, so we decided to have breakfast nearby, hang around, and wait for it to open to explore inside.

The exterior wall of the Rock Church is clad in copper sheets, while the interior fully retains the natural texture of the granite rock wall, showing Finns' love for natural simplicity.

Finally, at 10:00, we could enter through the tunnel entrance.

As soon as we entered, the play of light and shadow was incredible. Sunlight streamed through the grilles, casting patterned light on the chairs, with bright and dark areas beautifully contrasting.

Someone was rehearsing on stage, but I couldn't take my eyes off the dome, clicking the shutter non-stop.

It looked different from every angle: looking straight toward the unlit side, I saw the clear blue sky.

Looking diagonally toward the lit side, soft light streamed in gently.

Then, I was lucky to capture another starlight.

This free-spirited night and morning came to a pleasant end. We returned to Helsinki Airport and flew to our Arctic Circle destination, Rovaniemi.

At this moment, writing this article, it's 3:05 Beijing time. I can't help wondering what it would be like if it were light outside now—what would it be like to go on a night tour?

I dare not continue imagining, because it feels so far away. But on that solstice, this night tour was real, like a lucid dream. There was hardly anyone on the streets; the city was empty, the sky bright, sunlight shining—so magical.

The excitement continues; the wonderful journey has just begun. See you in the Arctic Circle.

Remember the original intention of this trip? To spend the solstice inside the Arctic Circle.

If elsewhere on this trip we only experienced no night, with sunrise and sunset still present, then the place we were about to arrive at was true midnight sun. Crossing the 66°N Arctic Circle means saying goodbye to sunrise and sunset—not just 24 hours of daylight, but 24 hours of sunshine.

Travel is truly interesting—it keeps us travel lovers energetic; the more exciting the trip, the more it makes us forget about sleep.

What is sleep? Do people need to sleep?

It had been over 30 hours since we left London without sleep, but we were getting more and more excited, not even drowsy on the plane. Landing at Rovaniemi, we were greeted by an airport decorated for Christmas, actually named 'Santa's official home airport.'

We had booked a cabin in Santa Claus Village, and the village's shuttle was waiting outside. We got off and arrived at our accommodation.

A row of two cabins—perfect for the four of us—we booked the whole unit. This was our home for the night.

Entering the room, the Christmas atmosphere was strong. Was it solstice or Christmas? Couldn't tell. Arctic Circle houses have a special design—curtains come in two layers, since you have to create darkness yourself.

The cabin also had a sauna, new and clean. We fantasized about taking a sauna at night and then sleeping well. But after the sauna that night... haha, what is sleep? What is drowsiness? The sky was still bright—why sleep?

Saunas are a necessity in Finland—there is one sauna for every three people. Pure and introverted Finns most often relax by taking a sauna. Especially around the winter solstice, when the Arctic Circle experiences polar night, with cold, heavy snow and endless darkness, saunas become extra warm and comforting.

I rarely take photos in bathrooms, but I did twice on this trip—once in the room here, and once in a public restroom in Sweden. In Northern Europe, anything is possible?

After pretending to rest in the room, we went to the restaurant for dinner. Not sleepy, but still hungry. Everything in Santa Claus Village is red, full of Christmas spirit.

I ordered a burger with potato wedges. The golden food against the red background instantly brought out the Christmas sparkle.

The restaurant windows were also interesting. I really liked this place—every detail was thoughtfully done.

After dinner, we went to the post office to buy stamps, planning to write postcards at night so we could drop them in the mailbox tomorrow.

I bought 8 stamps. Guess how many postcards I bought? How long did I write?

These were the most meaningful stamps I've ever seen—they said 'Arctic Circle' and had Santa and Santa Claus Village. With such interesting stamps, I had to write a few extra cards, right?

Why was there lamplight? Because we obediently closed the curtains. Though the room dimmed, our excitement couldn't be suppressed—tomorrow we would cross the Arctic Circle and meet Santa. Could we still sleep?

So we got up early, had breakfast, and started exploring the village.

At the center of the village, there was a signpost pointing to various world cities. Excitedly, I looked for Beijing—and found it! A wave of homesickness hit me. I sent it to friends back home, saying, 'Look, you're southeast of me.'

Then! We arrived at the big event of the day! The most anticipated moment of the whole trip!

Cross! The! Arctic! Circle! It was my first time crossing the Arctic Circle—I was so excited.

At the center of Santa Claus Village, there was a white line reading 'Arctic Circle' and '66°32′35'—that was the Arctic Circle line.

I probably took dozens of photos there? Acting silly is my specialty.

I picked the most normal one to show you haha. The funniest part: after dozens of shots, when I came back from the Arctic Hall with my certificate, I couldn't help taking even more—it was too memorable.

Another highlight was visiting Santa Claus.

Pushing open the door marked 'Santa is here,' we could find Santa. We couldn't bring our own cameras or bags inside; staff would take photos, and there were cameras in the office that we could purchase at the end of the visit.

Being silly is hard to hide. I must have been the silliest girl Santa had ever seen—so excited. There weren't many people, just us. Santa talked with us for a long time, about how he replies to kids' postcards, where we were from, and our trip.

At that moment, it felt magical and fun.

Later, when I looked back at the photos and videos, I realized how excited and silly I was—so silly I couldn't bear to watch. Having something in life that makes me this happy is great. Everything about travel brings me joy—as long as I'm traveling, I'm extremely happy.

Thank you, Santa Claus, for making this solstice unforgettable.

After completing these two big wishes, we moved into the fun stage and visited Santa's Post Office.

There were different mailboxes: for Europe, for the world, for immediate sending, and for next Christmas.

I chose immediate sending for myself, family, and friends, and next Christmas for the Nordic foursome.

Thus, on that winter solstice, we received the postcards we had sent each other from Santa Claus Village on that summer solstice. The longer I travel, the more I love these meaningful, old-fashioned ways. I have a special cabinet for these travel memories.

After all that ceremony, we went to feed the reindeer. Since it was summer, we couldn't ride sleds, but we could get close by feeding them branches under staff guidance.

Content and satisfied, the sky cleared up. We strolled around the village, then returned to our room to pack.

Before leaving, I reluctantly took a photo with our cabin. I still remember our room numbers: 52 and 53. Because this place held our beautiful memories of that solstice in the Arctic Circle—this magical solstice was worth commemorating.

The staff from Santa Claus Village drove us to the airport, and we boarded our flight to Sweden.

See that dark cloud? We were flying toward it, to experience the typical Nordic summer rainy season.

Goodbye, pure and magical Finland.

Seeing the title, are you a little curious? Why 'Kingdom of Peace'? Because in Swedish, the word 'Sweden' means 'Kingdom of Peace.'

We often hear about Nordic design and Nordic style—what exactly is Nordic art? In what kind of environment does such art arise? Before coming to Sweden, I had these questions in my mind. After arriving, I slowly found answers. The weather and history here shaped this peaceful kingdom, and in turn, the kingdom shaped its art.

Imagine: if you lived in a city that has only darkness for a month or two each year, then no daylight for another month or two, with no high temperatures all year and rain for nearly half the year, how would you change? In a peaceful kingdom where everyone can live in peace with themselves and enjoy solitude, how would you change?

When I first arrived in Sweden, I didn't have these thoughts. Maybe as I've grown older, or because I've visited more places and become more interested in the world's diversity, while preparing this travelogue, I gained a deeper understanding of Sweden. I watched some Swedish films, listened to some Swedish songs, and then looked back at this trip to Sweden—it became more and more interesting.

A few years ago, I wrote an article about travel, and my description of Sweden was: 'In some places, dreams are shattered.' I have always liked Sweden, like Stockholm, but here I encountered the most despairing rain, even worse than all the weather despair I had in the UK. Thinking back now, although the rain didn't let me capture the most beautiful scenery, it showed me the most authentic Sweden. Under these conditions, understanding Swedish art and life became much easier.

Actually, the dream didn't shatter—I just didn't see another dimension of the dream at the time of travel.

So we flew into that dark cloud. It was also the first time I saw a double rainbow on an airplane against a dark cloud.

As I said above, at the time of travel, my mood also flew into the dark cloud. During those days in Stockholm, I felt a bit down. 'The world's most beautiful capital'? Where was the beauty?

People grow. Now, I have discovered its beauty and begin to cherish and be grateful for this trip.

After arriving in Sweden, we finally slept—a long, deep sleep.

Maybe because we were finally tired, or because Sweden's rainy weather made us drowsy—sleeping was always a good thing.

We stayed near the city center. In the morning, we strolled to the old town in the city center.

Here it is, the famous Nobel Museum. The museum features introductions to each laureate, a historical review of the Nobel Prize, and awards introductions, as well as Alfred Nobel's biography. The Nobel Prize has major international significance in science, education, culture, etc. Many of our alumni have won Nobel Prizes, and their stories appear in this museum. But being 'uncultured,' we still didn't go in.

The square where the Nobel Museum is located is a central square in the city, also the oldest square in Stockholm, around which the medieval old town gradually formed. In the square, there is a monument to a well, the original site of Stockholm's earliest well.

For example, benches were painted in various colors—perhaps in a city as deep as Stockholm, splashes of color brighten it up.

The windows of various small shops displayed different designs. A little hedgehog caught my attention—very three-dimensional and vivid. For some reason, I felt it was very Stockholm.

Entering an alley from the other side of the square, we arrived at the old town's commercial street. Though it was a commercial street, it wasn't bustling. It was full of exquisite Swedish designs, very interesting.

This was a small lamp shop, with lampshades made to look like various skirts, and many cute little dolls.

Passing through this alley, we arrived at Sweden's famous Stockholm Palace.

Its history dates back to the Middle Ages, originally a military fortress. At the end of the 17th century, it was gradually remodeled and expanded into today's royal palace.

This is where the king works and holds ceremonies, and it's also an important tourist attraction in Stockholm.

The royal family has now moved out to Drottningholm Palace in the suburbs, but it remains the official residence of the Swedish king.

Apart from the floors used as royal residences, other parts of the palace serve various purposes, such as the Gustav III Museum of Antiquities, the Treasury, the Armory, and the Three Crowns Museum underground—these museums alone are enough to spend a day exploring.

We arrived at noon in summer, just in time for the Changing of the Guard ceremony in front of the palace. We witnessed the guards solemnly performing the traditional ceremony.

The ceremony lasted a long time, with parades and music, and the square was packed with people.

After watching the ceremony, we returned to the old town to find a delicious lunch.

You must have guessed it—our first meal in Sweden would be Swedish meatballs.

The meatballs were very delicate and delicious, but honestly different from what I imagined. Having grown up eating IKEA Swedish meatballs, I always thought Swedish meatballs were small—I never expected them to be so big.

After lunch, we continued exploring Stockholm's old town. The old town was founded in the 13th century, over 700 years ago. It features medieval alleys, cobblestone streets, and old architecture, strongly influenced by North Germanic style.

This is Stockholm Cathedral, one of Stockholm's oldest buildings, an important representative of Swedish brick Gothic architecture, and the site of Swedish kings' coronations.

Following the old town, we returned to the Royal Palace to continue our visit.

The Royal Palace was the only palace we visited inside during this Nordic trip. Not sure if the palaces in other Nordic countries are similar, but we felt Nordic palaces are less luxurious than Western European ones.

The palace displays the royal family's daily items, including many clothes, accessories, and even wedding dresses.

The palace once experienced a major fire. The exhibition hall described its former splendor, and one room restored its appearance before the fire.

After touring several exhibition halls and museums, we felt a bit tired—maybe because the royal family doesn't live there, so many rooms are open.

Or maybe because the exhibited items were so abundant, it was a bit overwhelming.

Leaving the palace, I took a standard tourist photo—since I was there, it was worth remembering.

It took us a long time to finish touring the palace. If there were nightfall, I would say, 'We went from daylight to dark.'

Leaving the Royal Palace, we arrived at Fjällgatan. Actually, I was looking forward to this place because I had seen it in a magazine under a sunny sky—beautiful as an oil painting. But at this moment... haha.

Stockholm is truly a mysterious city. Is this the same Baltic Sea as in Finland? Does the Baltic have two colors?

Briefly taking off my thick coat for a portrait. I realized that year I really loved this outfit—the cover of my UK travelogue was this outfit, and the cover of my Nordic travelogue is also this outfit. Thinking back, maybe it was because this sweater-like short-sleeve shirt suited the UK and Nordic weather—warm while revealing some skin, keeping it from being too dull.

Haha! I can't help but laugh at this photo.

This is the photo from the public restroom I mentioned earlier! I never thought I would lift a DSLR in a public restroom, spend half an hour retouching a restroom photo, or even put my name on a restroom photo.

But all of this happened in Sweden. At that moment, I couldn't help but exclaim that art is truly everywhere in Sweden. This art piece was on the center of the mirror in the underground ladies' restroom near Fjällgatan, even with delicate, layered two-tone lighting.

The rain had eased, but the gloom in the sky remained.

We went to Kungsholmen to see the famous Stockholm City Hall.

City Hall is a landmark of Stockholm, flanked by water, a red brick tower.

There are many sculptures by the sea; Nordic sculptures are mostly green bronze, very cool-toned.

Across is Riddarholmen, with the pointed Riddarholmen Church on the left.

Inside City Hall, looking up, the roofs on both sides are interesting—asymmetrical but harmonious and full of design.

Perhaps this frozen moment is my impression of Sweden: red brick building, green sculpture, and an overcast sky.

Looking out through the arched corridor, the wide Baltic Sea glowed, inviting us to approach.

We lingered in the corridor for a while, shielded from the rain, quietly enjoying the brightness outside.

So, do you think we've explored Stockholm? Not yet! The underground is even more exciting!

If it's pouring outside, take shelter in the subway; if there's no night above, come find night in the subway.

If you ask me where the most fun place in Sweden is, I'll definitely say the subway (and I didn't mention the public restroom, which is already saying a lot haha—in Sweden, anything is possible). For Swedes, the subway is mostly transportation, but for tourists, its artistic value far exceeds its transport function.

Some time has passed, and I can't quite distinguish between stations anymore. The process of recalling these memories is itself fun. Reading about these subway stations online, I gained a deeper understanding than I had at the time. Perhaps during the Nordic trip, I only marveled at how interesting they were; now I know many stories behind them.

So the process of writing each travelogue is joyful. It not only lets me revisit memories and relive the trip, but also allows me to delve deeper into understanding the cities I once visited. In this chapter, I'll tell you about our journey through Stockholm's subway.

Let's briefly talk about Stockholm's subway lines. There are three main lines: red, green, and blue. The subway decoration itself is an interesting story—reportedly, in 1955, two Swedish artists proposed decorating the subway, and thus many stations became artworks. Worth noting: not every station on this art corridor is designed, and not every line in transfer stations has designs—we had to discover them ourselves.

We hadn't done thorough research before coming, not knowing which stations had surprises, so we decided to explore this art corridor like an adventure. The process was really fun. We entered from the blue line at T-Centralen station and started opening 'blind boxes' along the blue line.

The station in this picture is 'T-Centralen,' Stockholm's central subway station, where the red, green, and blue lines intersect. There are no designs on the red and green line platforms, but the blue line has surprises—a must-visit station on a Stockholm subway tour.

The station's design is primarily blue and white, themed around the ancient Athens Olympics, with many blue-and-white olive leaves. What attracted me most was the mural beside the escalator, depicting busy construction workers—some holding blueprints, others using tools. Because Stockholm has many rivers, the subway was dug very deep, and the workers struggled. This mural vividly brought their construction process to life.

The next station is 'Rådhuset.' I couldn't find much information online. In my understanding, it's a mine; walking through the tunnel feels immersive, with a sense of heat and desolation.

My favorite part is the two shoes on the ceiling of the mine. Very interesting. It feels like an inverted mine—the ceiling is actually the floor—creating a sense of reversed space, making me wonder whose shoes they are and what they mean.

We wanted to open a more distant blind box, so we went to the blue line branch 'Solna Centrum.'

Its theme is the problems of Sweden's industrial revolution in the 1970s: green for forests, red for the sky, black for the ashes of land and garbage.

Behind the bright colors is a sad story, very visually impactful. People often talk about environmental pollution—those four words sound light, but when artists use color to express it, it becomes truly terrifying. When the sky is dyed red, red no longer represents festivity but danger and terror—the world is no longer beautiful. This forms a stark contrast with the blue-and-white color scheme of T-Centralen.

After that, our route became very confusing—so confusing that I couldn't figure out why we went that way even after thinking hard. I thought maybe I remembered the stations wrong, but apparently not—the four of us really were unbeatable at being silly.

If you want a normal art tour, after Hallonbergen station, go forward three more stops to reach Akalla station at the end of this segment. But I'll still share this confusing route with you. The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that we wanted to exit at Akalla, but we had looked up online that Kungsträdgården and Stadion stations had designs we hadn't seen, so we turned back and then came again.

So we turned around at Hallonbergen and went back to the blue line's main line starting point, Kungsträdgården. The theme of this station is the King's Garden. Because there are royal gardens above ground nearby, artists turned this station into an underground garden.

Then we returned to T-Centralen to transfer to the red line and arrived at Stockholm's most famous subway station, Stadion. Its representative is a bright rainbow.

While a subway train was stopped, I took another empty shot—more blue echoing the sky appeared, adding liveliness.

The theme of this station commemorates the 1912 Summer Olympics. There's a huge poster on one side of the corridor. Although I don't understand Swedish, the word 'Olympic' is similar to English, so I guessed it was about the Summer Olympics held from June 29 to July 22, 1912.

Walking out, there are many interesting sculptures—some indicating north-south directions, and musical notes. Very fun.

Then we returned to the blue line and got off at another interchange between blue and green lines, Fridhemsplan station. There are sailboats and airplanes here—the theme might be navigation.

This station is interesting because it's not very famous, so there's little online introduction, and we didn't note the station names during the trip. The 'detective work' was fun—I spent a long time finding someone saying this station is called Fridhemsplan, but to write the travelogue, I had to confirm. I searched the subway map many times but couldn't find the station name.

I saw many stations with 'hems' and 'plan' in their names, so I thought the name was correct, but I couldn't locate it. Later, I happily discovered that the green line stations at this curve had their names omitted due to lack of space, replaced by numbers, with the names listed in the legend.

When I realized this, I laughed happily. Not only travel is joyful—the process of 'archaeologically' revisiting the trip is also joyful.

After that, we didn't stop and took the old subway all the way to Akalla.

Akalla's design is simple—mainly yellow, with only a few tile murals.

With that, our trip to Sweden truly ended.

As I said earlier, at the moment of travel, I was a little disappointed. But with time, I increasingly like this trip—it's very real, very Swedish. Just like the UK: it's cloudy and rainy all the time; if travel photos were all sunny, it would seem strange. Experiencing sudden heavy rain and then rainbows after the rain makes it more like real life in the UK.

The same goes for Sweden. I've gained new insights: just go ahead and travel. If the memory isn't perfect, store it away. When we open it later, we'll discover its beauty. Perhaps imperfection is the true perfection.

After Sweden, we were about to face the longest part of our Nordic trip: Norway. Even writing this, I get goosebumps. Because...

Norway is too beautiful!

Apart from crossing the Arctic Circle and meeting Santa Claus, Norway was what I most looked forward to. I looked forward to it during the trip, while editing photos, and while writing—I even looked forward to getting to Norway sooner (even at this moment of proofreading). For someone like me who doesn't care much for culture and history (in short, 'uncultured') and loves nature travel, Norway is a paradise for European travel.

Our Nordic foursome all love nature travel, so we allocated more time to Norway than to the other three countries combined. Apart from Rovaniemi, we only visited the capitals of the other three countries; in Norway, we skipped the capital and seriously explored the west coast.

What does the Norwegian west coast have? 80% of the world's fjords, countless forests, plateaus, glaciers, snowy mountains, waterfalls, rivers, villages, fish markets, and the world's number one natural attraction, Preikestolen (Pulpit Rock). During our days in Norway, everything felt surreal. Because of the midnight sun, we greedily had two particularly long days; also, we wanted to stop and enjoy life, with days when we only took a few photos and just relaxed.

If Helsinki felt like sleepwalking due to the wonder of time and space, this sleepwalking in Norway was due to the sacred gift of nature. This trip to Norway, even while in it, felt infinitely ethereal and distant. Norway is like a realm for immortals, so beautiful it doesn't seem of this Earth. Nature's gift is so magical it's sacred.

Compared to Norway's capital Oslo, we unhesitatingly chose Bergen as our base camp for Norway travel. Although Bergen is Norway's second-largest city, it's the largest and most beautiful port on the west coast. It sits on the steep fjord coastline of western Norway, a scenic harbor city.

It's perfect for summer travel—the essence of Norwegian summer is in Bergen and the nearby coastline. While Oslo has more politics and culture, Bergen is thoroughly natural and pure. Bergen's tourism is also well-developed, with many ways to play. Using Bergen as a base camp for Norway travel allows for both fast and slow, rich and leisurely experiences.

Guess what time it is? Haha, asking this under the midnight sun is so funny. It was early morning. We had arrived in Bergen the night before, greeted by the sunset, and checked into our hotel in Bergen city center.

Our life in Bergen was slow. This was one such day: the first photo was taken at 7:26 AM, the last at 1:51 PM.

After breakfast, we went out to take care of a big matter: we went to the tourist information center to book tomorrow's 'Norway in a Nutshell' tour—more details in the next chapter. Then we strolled leisurely.

Bryggen is northwest of the sea; the other three sides are land. We sunbathed on the southwest side for a while, then crossed the fish market to the northeast side of the harbor.

The seafood at Bergen Fish Market is freshly caught that day—very, very fresh. After we came down from Mount Fløyen, we tasted its deliciousness first-hand.

Apart from the truly expensive prices, nothing else could be faulted. One king crab leg cost over 400 Norwegian kroner, which at the exchange rate was about 400 RMB. But it was indeed fresh—words like 'melts in your mouth' and 'sweet' I often hear but never truly experienced until the Norwegian fish market.

The fish market is on the southeast shore of the harbor; shooting northwest captures the long, narrow sea surface.

Arriving at the northeast shore, before encountering the famous little houses of Bryggen, we came across this vintage car playing loud music.

Here is the old town of Bryggen. These wooden houses built in the early 18th century were declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1979. Bryggen's colorful harbor is an important scenic symbol of Bergen, and even Norway.

Before coming here, I always confused Bergen and Bryggen. Later I learned that 'Bryggen' means 'wharf' in Norwegian, so Bergen's wharf is Bryggen—the oldest part of Bergen.

Along the shore, many small boats with furled sails rocked in the waves.

After a short walk, we reached the Fløibanen funicular station.

Mount Fløyen, east of Bergen, is only 320 meters high. It's not high and suitable for hiking, but the funicular is so spectacular that it's one of Norway's most famous attractions. There's a saying: 'If you haven't ridden the Fløibanen funicular, you haven't been to Bergen.' So we took the funicular.

The Fløibanen funicular runs year-round, seven days a week, from morning to night.

If you queue near the front, stand at the very bottom of the car. The funicular runs fast, giving a sense of rushing through—even more exciting when facing backward. At the same time, I could capture all the beautiful scenery in my eyes and lens.

At the top, we could enjoy the city surrounded by mountains and fjords.

I really like this photo—it captures the panoramic view of Bergen and the funicular track, with both movement and stillness.

I deliberately wore a simple, clean outfit for Bergen. In my impression, Bergen is so pure that it can't accommodate any impurities. And it proved to be truly beautiful, unrealistically so.

Looking east from the summit, you can see an endless city. Norway is surrounded by sea on three sides, with the east side facing inland.

The summit was overcast, and the Norwegian flag fluttered in the wind. I often see jokes online that the five Nordic countries' flags look like they copied each other—same pattern, just different colors. Quite funny.

Later, I learned from research that Norway was originally a Danish colony, so its flag evolved from the Danish flag. Denmark's flag is a red rectangle with a white cross. Norway added a darker blue inside the white cross to create its flag.

This is the Norwegian mountain troll. Norway has many mountains, and the trolls protect the homes of Norwegians. You can see trolls everywhere in Norway—they are friendly, with long noses, very cute.

The best route at Mount Fløyen is to take the funicular up for the thrill of speed, then slowly hike down to enjoy the forest scenery. We hiked down, enjoyed the fish market's delicacies, and ended the day happily by noon, then relaxed.

Slow living is what the Norwegian scenery deserves.

Norway's tourism is so developed that they created 'Norway in a Nutshell.'

What is 'Norway in a Nutshell'? Literally, a nutshell version of Norway. Norway is vast; apart from the Northern Lights in the north, the scenery mainly consists of fjords, valleys, rivers, waterfalls, plateaus, and glaciers. 'Norway in a Nutshell' is a condensed version of Norway, allowing you to experience the essence of Norwegian scenery in one or two days via the most essential routes.

Long before coming, I had heard of 'Norway in a Nutshell' because it boasts many 'mosts': 'one of the most beautiful train journeys in Europe,' 'the most incredible train route in the world,' 'the most beautiful landscape on the planet,' 'the longest fjord in Norway,' 'the narrowest fjord in the world,' 'one of the 50 most beautiful travel destinations,' 'the most outstanding and beautiful fjord region on Earth.' It has so many titles that it's impossible not to know about it.

For me, the beauty of 'Norway in a Nutshell' lies not only in its scenery but also in its approach. It's not a regular tour—no guide, no destination; it's more like an experience. People often say the most beautiful scenery is on the road, and 'Norway in a Nutshell' is the best embodiment of that. If you only see the transportation as a means to get somewhere, you'll spend the whole day on the road; if you see it as a guide, you'll be in the scenery all day.

Another interesting point: you can customize your own 'Norway in a Nutshell' based on your time, location, and interests. For example, since Bergen was our base, we chose a round trip from Bergen. We told the staff at the tourist info what we wanted to see, and they suggested a combination: train from Bergen to Flåm, then cruise back to Bergen—all in one day, greedily including all the highlights. Perfect!

This chapter started a bit long to give you a detailed introduction to this interesting travel style, so you can better understand our trip and appreciate its excitement and beauty. Now let's relive the most amazing day and virtually travel this stunning scenery.

[Bergen NSB Railway Station]

NSB stands for Norwegian State Railways. I know the abbreviation is funny haha! Don't worry—there's more to come from Denmark that's even funnier. You might wonder why it's NSR not NSB—it's the Norwegian abbreviation, Norges Statsbaner.

[First Train: Bergen - Myrdal]

There were two train segments today. The first was already beautiful, but mainly to get to Myrdal, not the highlight. The second segment from Myrdal to Flåm is the essence of the railway part.

The photo above shows the scenery along the way—we started seeing snowy mountains, forests, and villages, heading deeper into the mountains.

This photo was also taken on this stretch; the scenery gradually became incredible, then we transferred to the second train.

[Second Train: Myrdal - Flåm]

This segment is rated by Lonely Planet as the most incredible train route in the world. Before coming, we specifically researched and learned that you should sit on the left side by the window to see all the beautiful views. Unfortunately, our previous train was a few minutes late, and when we transferred, the car was almost full, leaving only seats on the right.

Since we were there, scenery was much more important than seats! So I gave myself a 'standing ticket'—haha, joking—but I did stand by the left door between carriages. Though not as comfortable as sitting, I was more focused, had a perfect angle, and saw and captured all the scenery along the way.

Once the train started, we were among snowy mountains. This area is a high plateau, very cold. The high mountains were still covered in deep snow, with no sign of spring.

In the snow, a few small houses were faintly visible. I marveled that such a desolate place still had inhabitants—this was their life.

Higher up, the snow got thicker, and the river reflections became much stronger, making it hard to tell ice from water. This is why this railway is 'one of the most beautiful train journeys in Europe'—in just an hour, it takes us from summer to deep winter.

[Kjosfossen Waterfall]

The train slowed down and stopped. We heard the sound of water and music. My friends called me to get off, saying they had just discovered we could go see the waterfall. Unfortunately, we were late and missed the performance—the red-dressed dancer on the rocks had just finished. If you come here, remember to rush out as soon as the door opens to see the dancer dancing by the waterfall to music—it must be beautiful.

We missed the dance but not the rushing waterfall. The water was fierce, and there was a lot of mist. After a few minutes of shooting, our clothes were covered in water droplets. Norway is truly magical—from here we entered waterfall territory.

Back on the train, we entered the Aurlandsdal valley—a low valley between high mountains, with melting snow from both sides forming waterfalls that flowed into the river below. This, I think, was the most essential part of the train journey—very Norwegian.

You saw this photo at the beginning—see how much I love it. If I had to pick one photo to represent this train journey, it would be this one, because it satisfies my greed for natural beauty: snowy mountains, waterfalls, valleys, rivers, and villages all in one frame—so magical!

The terrain gradually lowered, and the white world turned green. Snowy mountains disappeared, replaced by waterfalls and rivers.

Our railway route followed the valley, and all the way we saw rivers of varying widths and heights. Where there were elevation changes, the rivers formed small waterfalls.

I also like this photo—the village built along the river, showing the importance of churches in Western culture. Even in such a tiny village, there is a pointed church to meet people's spiritual needs.

If you're still reading, this train journey is about to end. The train scheduled to arrive in Flåm at 11:55 was 20 minutes late. We got off, saying goodbye to one of the most beautiful rail routes.

[Flåm Village]

Why does the train journey end at Flåm? Because it's at the head of the Aurlandsfjord, so it's a necessary stop on the 'Norway in a Nutshell' route. Does the name Aurland sound familiar? Remember the Aurlandsdal valley we just passed? Aurland is a beautiful place with both a valley and a fjord, so this essential tour must come here.

Flåm Village itself has no major attractions—mainly for rest, a stroll, lunch, and connecting the morning train trip with the afternoon boat trip.

The village has a café and restaurant built like a train, as well as the NSB museum about this railway. It was still early, so we planned to hike up a small hill in the village.

As we started climbing, we encountered a 'mini train' tourist shuttle. If you're too lazy or short on time, you can take the mini train. We wanted to walk in the forest, so we hiked up.

Along the path, many rocks had various sculptures. We guessed at their meanings but weren't sure. In our minds, Norway is a very pure, spiritual place.

At the top of the hill, we could overlook Flåm's small harbor, the starting point of Aurlandsfjord, and the snowy mountains in the distance. That afternoon, we would depart from this harbor for our fjord cruise.

On the way down, there were more delicate sculptures—not sure what they meant, but they felt sacred.

I tried to search for them online but only found similar photos, no explanations. So let it remain a mystery.

Back in the village center, we visited the Flåm Railway Museum, seeing many books about this railway, including some in Chinese. I really missed home back then—seeing Chinese felt especially warm, so I had to capture it.

Soon it was time to board. We went to the harbor to wait for our boat. While waiting, we saw many beautiful cruise ships. In water-rich Norway, boats are an important means of transport.

Lonely Planet says the fjord landscape on Norway's west coast is unique and stunningly beautiful—many consider it the most beautiful landscape on the planet.

Norway has many fjords—reportedly 80% of the world's fjords are in Norway. Fjords are Norway's most representative natural landscape, the soul of Norway. The four most famous fjords in Norway: Geirangerfjord, Sognefjord, Hardangerfjord, and Lysefjord.

Our destination today was Sognefjord, in southwestern Norway—the longest fjord in Norway and the second longest in the world, about 203 km long. We were about to explore two of its branches: Aurlandsfjord and Nærøyfjord, the most essential parts of Sognefjord.

[Fjord Cruise]

We boarded. Luckily, we got front-row seats by the window in the cabin. But you know me—I couldn't stay inside with such beautiful scenery! Haha, as soon as the boat left, I went out on deck.

Was it cold? Very, very cold. Low temperature, strong wind, with intermittent rain.

Let me describe myself: wearing my purple jacket with the attached hood, which kept blowing off due to the wind, so I tightened the drawstring. I hid my camera inside my jacket to keep it from getting wet. Why no people in the photos? Because I was the only one on deck, and the wind made me squint.

Did I love it? Absolutely. The more extreme the weather, the more beautiful the scenery; the greater the contrast from daily life, the more freedom I felt.

The boat slowly left Flåm, sailing on Aurlandsfjord. Aurlandsfjord is a branch of Sognefjord. If not for the even more stunning Nærøyfjord later, I would have thought Aurlandsfjord was already unimaginably beautiful.

Our boat sailed through the fjord, leaving white foam. Though it was drizzling and windy, the clear high mountains on both sides left a deep impression.

The Norwegian flag fluttered at the stern—a touch of red in the green mountain world and green fjord.

Many mountain peaks had year-round snow. The characteristic of Aurlandsfjord is the fjord itself and the high mountains on both sides.

Then we entered the legendary Nærøyfjord.

Why legendary? Because it's a branch of the Geirangerfjord and Sognefjord, and the most charming branch of Sognefjord. It's the narrowest fjord in the world—at its narrowest, only 250 meters wide, with 1,200-meter-high cliffs on both sides. In 2005, it was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List, described as 'the most outstanding and beautiful fjord region on Earth.'

Actually, that's not all its titles—half of those mentioned at the start of this chapter belong to Nærøyfjord. Entering this fjord felt like entering a world of waterfalls. Every segment of the Norwegian fjords has its own beauty.

When encountering waterfalls, the boat slows down and approaches them for close viewing. Nærøyfjord has many waterfalls on both sides, but the water flow seemed not very large.

Continuing on, we entered a world of snowy mountains. The endless snowy peaks on both sides added a sense of movement and natural beauty to the fjord.

The snowy mountains were farther away than the forests, but they were dazzling; closer to the clouds, yet clearly outlined.

My shutter couldn't stop. Compared to the rain in Sweden, I could accept the rain in the fjords more easily. Perhaps in my mind, fjords should be this pure and aloof.

The fjord widened and narrowed. When narrow, we were very close to the mountains on both sides, with white waterfalls flowing between high forests.

Another wide shot capturing the melting snow from the mountains—on the left, a large waterfall; on the right, a smaller stream—both eventually flowing into the fjord.

These three photos are my favorites and give me a sense of accomplishment—they capture the light and shadow under the snowy mountains and dark clouds. No blue skies, but a silvery-white world, with reflections of snowy mountains and forests rippling in the fjord.

Zooming in, you can see a small village at the foot of the mountain. These photos show the colors and impression of Norwegian fjords in my heart.

I like this one even more because it has not only distant snowy mountains but also nearby lively forests and small houses. I don't envy the owners one bit—not at all—I don't envy their pastoral life, living in the forest with the fjord below and snowy mountains above. You know I'm being sarcastic. This photo is so beautiful—just looking at it is wonderful, let alone living there.

Another wide shot: see the reflection of dark clouds in the water? Is it a mirror? No, there are ripples—more majestic than a mirror.

We passed another small village. Nærøyfjord has many villages along its shores, offering not only natural beauty but also poetic pastoral life.

The wind grew stronger, causing our boat to rock violently, and our white wake became indistinct.

After a long time, the sky gradually cleared—it was the first time I saw blue sky in the fjord.

The rain stopped, and the blue sky made the temperature much friendlier. More people came on deck. We switched to portrait mode—the first thing was to take off our thick, almost dripping jackets and don vain sunglasses haha.

As we photographed, the clouds above also drifted away, and the sun came out. The sunlight warmed my entire afternoon. Can you imagine this woman huddled up earlier? I really like my former self—so carefree. Although mentally I'm even more carefree now, it's been 2 years and 4 months since I last left the country, and 1 year and 8 months since I left Beijing—nowhere to be carefree.

Taking another photo from the stern under blue skies and white clouds, the world felt bright and beautiful, but it lost some of the mystery from earlier.

This fjord tour was truly complete—we experienced both the depth of the fjord and its sunny side.

It's been a while since I made such a silly pose—it showed I was genuinely happy.

Let me tell you a little joke (every travelogue has one of these) haha: actually, my shirt was a shirt dress. Originally, I planned to wear it as a dress with my white sneakers for a fresh look. But the weather, you know, haha—I rolled the dress up and tied it around my waist, wore pants underneath, and threw on my thick jacket. From the moment the sky cleared, I slowly restored my OOTD; when we got ashore later, you won't be surprised to see it as a dress again.

As the sky cleared and the sea widened, our fjord journey was nearing its end. That didn't mean we were close to Bergen—the boat continued because we were about to exit the fjord and sail into the open sea.

We stopped at the last stop in the fjord, where we watched a child fishing.

Just as we were about to depart, the child had a catch. Seeing him happily pull up the fish hook made us happy too.

Sailing to the west coast, the clouds in the sky diminished, and the seawater became clearer.

We often encountered small boats on the sea. If there were tourists on them, the people on our boat would boldly wave and greet them.

In 'Norway in a Nutshell,' there are many options for returning from Flåm to Bergen—like us, take a cruise directly back; or cruise part of the fjord and then transfer to bus or train.

On the way there, we experienced the train; on the way back, we wanted to try the cruise. Even if the latter part wasn't fjord, we wanted to sail on the sea and enjoy the scenery along the way.

By then, the sun had moved to the west, softening the west coast.

The sun came out, but the wind didn't lessen—it blew the sea into layered patterns, and the speedboat bounced up and down.

I really like this bridge—a bridge spanning beautiful scenery. I wondered: what does it feel like to cross it from above? Which view is nicer: looking down from above, or looking up from below?

As we approached the bridge, we got closer to this red ship—a touch of red in a sea of blue. Does this scene look familiar?

Many boats passed by, and I kept shooting. I took over a thousand photos that day—you can see how much I loved this place. You can also imagine how hard it was to choose photos. Each had its own character; I wanted to pick the most comprehensive one to tell you a complete, real story so you'd love it too.

When the mountains on the shore lowered and the houses became more colorful, I knew I was approaching Bergen again.

Many boats were moored in the harbor, big and small. Actually, there are many means of transport in Northern Europe; you can drive or take cruises in Norway. Having lived in the UK, we were used to relying on planes, subways, and buses—that familiar model felt comfortable and easy. If you choose a different mode of transport, it would be a different travel experience.

Back at Bryggen, the sun was lower, and the sea surface became colorful.

The water in the harbor was clear, the light strong, and the colorful houses reflected on the water, swaying with the waves.

I couldn't help thinking: midnight sun is great—if not for it, we wouldn't have seen so much scenery in one day. By the time we exited the fjord to the sea, it should have been dark—by now, it would be pitch black.

[Back on Shore]

Our boat was a few minutes late docking. We got off ashore, ending the 'Norway in a Nutshell' tour. We had so much fun that we suddenly decided: since it was already this late, let's stay a bit longer and wait for a Nordic 'sunset'—a 'sunset' that never turns the sky dark. So we started wandering along the shore, waiting for a 'sunset' that never darkens.

In the middle of the night, my dress finally returned to being a dress, completing today's look. Sitting by the shore, letting the warm light fall on my face. At that moment, I thought: what does the night view look like here? I don't know, but this memory is special and cool enough.

I really like these three photos below. I sat in the light—this is definitely midnight sun.

Actually, the title of this travelogue was originally going to use 'Midnight Sun' to describe the phenomenon, but later I felt it couldn't fully capture the excitement of this trip. 'Midnight Sun' works perfectly as the theme for these photos, or 'Midnight Sunset.'

In the photo, I was alone on the shore, sitting casually. In the first photo, my friend even captured my favorite starlight on my body. It was truly beautiful and magical—travel is wonderful.

And so, we ended this day's journey in the early hours.

Grateful to the midnight sun for giving us such a fulfilling, beautiful day; grateful to nature for creating such incredible Norway; grateful to Norwegian tourism for inventing 'Norway in a Nutshell'; grateful to my travel companions for traveling through the five Nordic countries with me.

I was truly happy in the light—so happy that we had another sleepless night.

Unknown to what extent? Even now, I don't know which fjord we went to that day. I asked my companions—no one knows either. So how did we go? We have to go back to that morning.

We were still not satisfied with yesterday's fjord tour, so we planned to go to another fjord today. We went to the tourist information center and asked for recommendations. The staff said 'Norway in a Nutshell.' We said we went there yesterday. Any other recommendations?

The staff said, 'In five minutes, the boat at our door will depart for some fjord. I guarantee it will be fun. Would you like to join?' So we paid without hesitation and boarded.

Why 'some fjord'? Because Norwegian fjord names, you know, are in Norwegian—long words without spaces. Apart from the four major ones, I couldn't understand the rest. So all we knew was: fjord, not one of the four major ones. But you also know—the unknown world can be beautiful, so beautiful that the captain thought we might have been drinking, wondering why we were so happy.

Our boat departed from the same port we returned to yesterday. Today's boat was a small one—the advantage was being able to interact with the captain and get closer to nature more flexibly.

As we left the harbor, we saw a very luxurious cruise liner with many decks and rooms.

Some passengers were already on their balconies. I remembered a line from a boy I liked in high school: 'Scenery is interesting—when you look at others, you become part of their scenery.' That was exactly this moment: the people on our small boat looked up at a lady on the balcony, and she looked down at us passing by.

After about seven hours, Bergen changed color—from the warm hue of midnight to cool tones.

The lady at the tourist info was right: this boat trip was really fun, and the scenery was completely different from yesterday. No high mountains, the water was calm—today it was truly a mirror. I love these photos—the sky and the fjord were perfectly symmetric.

Isn't this what a fairyland looks like? The captain cut the engine, letting us float quietly in the fjord. Listening to birds, watching the calm water and reflections.

Perhaps because Norway has so much green, they like to build red things—like the flag, the red ship yesterday, and the red house now. Norwegians are really impressive—as long as there's a small flat area at the foot of a mountain, they can build a house.

Turning a corner, the fjord was no longer calm—ripples appeared—and we arrived at a hidden paradise. Isn't this the pastoral dream? Or even better than what you'd dare to dream of.

The deeper we went into the fjord, the lower the clouds. Look at that very low dark cloud—doesn't it look painted?

Look at that lonely little house by the shore. I'm sure its only means of transport is a small boat, because it's parked right at its doorstep. Such an interesting life—our doorsteps have parking spaces; theirs need boat parking spaces.

Then we reached what I think was the highlight of this boat trip. The fun of a small boat is the stronger experience. The captain drove right under a waterfall and asked a crew member to fetch a bucket of icy waterfall water, then gave each of us a cup. It was fantastic!

Amidst music, each of us took a cup—truly sacred water, clear, icy, and unforgettable.

Tasting nature's gift in the 'Wizard of Oz' setting was amazing.

After drinking the icy water, we continued. Today's fjord tour didn't have many world-class extremes, but it had quiet, subtle beauty.

Taking off my jacket for a few photos was chilling—Norwegian summer is truly cool.

Rounding another bend, we came to another waterfall. We couldn't catch water this time, but we stopped the boat and listened quietly for a long time.

Today's fjord was small in scale, but complete in everything. With the captain's enthusiasm, everyone had a great time.

After living in the UK for a while, I'd caught some of the social boldness. My friend mentioned the little flag in the captain's hand looked fun. So I went to chat with him. After a while, the captain asked: 'I've been wondering—have you been drinking? Why are you so happy?' I said: 'Of course not! It's only morning! Isn't Norway's beautiful scenery worth celebrating?'

The captain laughed heartily, thinking we were amusing, and told us many stories about the fjords. I asked him: 'Can we borrow the little flag for a photo?' He said, 'Sure, unless you take a photo with me first.' So we got this photo. My friend captured it well—very storytelling. The photo op was so sudden that I didn't have time to take off my jacket, fix my hair, or control my expression—but it honestly recorded that moment of joy.

The captain was adorable: 'I have two flags. I'll lend you another one. Have fun.'

So we went to the bow and started posing. The wind at the bow was very strong—you can tell from my flying hair and the flag. The photo above is the only one with my full face—in the others, my face was covered with hair, haha. So fun.

This is my favorite kind of travel: day after day, feeling the fjord breeze, visiting different fjords, experiencing different joys.

This fjord journey could go on much longer, but due to space, I'll stop the exciting stories here. I'll tell you more when I get a chance.

After that, we spent time in Bergen just relaxing, exploring the old town, and strolling through street after street of small shops.

One day, two friends suddenly got excited and went out to buy Pandora, happily showing us. I didn't really get it—I always thought Pandora was for kids. But before we left Norway, at the next stop, I happily fell into the trap.

At the end of this chapter, let me share one more photo of a small house taken from the Bryggen wooden buildings. Life in Bergen was truly wonderful.

Nature, humanity, and memories—seeing this, you might have noticed that whenever I talk about nature, I ramble on because I'm so excited to share. So, let's wrap up and continue the journey to the most, most, most, most exciting stop!

This chapter's title came the quickest—about 10 seconds? And I never changed it because Preikestolen is absolutely stunning and famous. It's ranked first among CNN's 50 most spectacular natural landscapes worldwide—a must-do for many travel lovers.

Preikestolen is a natural rock formation in the middle of the Lysefjord near Stavanger in southern Norway, with a vertical drop of 604 meters. The top platform is the best vantage point to admire the Lysefjord, one of Norway's four major fjords.

How do you get to such an amazing place? Exactly—how? So we had our dream-chasing day. Grateful for the midnight sun, making this day not ordinary; grateful for Norway, giving us the most unforgettable day.

Because Aunt Flo paid a surprise visit that morning, this day was especially memorable. Aunt Flo is famously adventurous—she never misses a trip, so she definitely wanted to join this Preikestolen hike. But on the first day, the pain was severe—imagine how tough this full day was.

But for the dream, since we were there, why give up? Grit our teeth and go.

We left Bergen at 6 a.m. and saw a Buddha's halo on the plane—very stunning. We loved flying in Northern Europe—you always see amazing scenery. On the flight to Iceland earlier that year, we saw a sunset over the sea of clouds. Nordic flights are incredibly cheap—sometimes even cheaper than buses. For example, our flight from Copenhagen back to London cost only 8 euros, with no extra fees—unbelievable, right? Also, you don't need real-name tickets; purchasing and boarding are very convenient.

So we loved flying, being efficient and also seeing the city from above.

Bergen is not far from Stavanger, both on Norway's west coast. The plane descended quickly and landed at Stavanger Airport.

We felt half relieved: the sky was blue and clear!

You know? The whole trip, we were most worried about this Preikestolen day because we valued this part the most, and there were too many variables—weather being the biggest. Not long before we came, some friends had visited and encountered heavy fog—visibility at the top was extremely low; from the classic angle, you couldn't even see Preikestolen, let alone people on top.

So we were in a great mood. We bought ferry tickets from Stavanger to Tau and boarded with commuters and travelers.

It was 9:30 a.m., right at Stavanger's rush hour. Many cars drove from Tau onto the ferry, and many cyclists were there too.

Tau is the port opposite Stavanger. After disembarking, we transferred to a bus to Preikestolen. 'Preikestolen' is Norwegian for 'Pulpit Rock.' I can't pronounce it, so I just remember its English name—much simpler.

After some transfers, we finally arrived at the trailhead. No gate—just a simple sign. Very natural.

The hike from the entrance to the top is 3.8 km, taking 4–5 hours of pure walking. We took 6 hours including playtime.

I always take a photo at the start of every hike. Why am I bending over in this photo? Because I was in so much pain I couldn't stand straight—smiling was already an achievement. You can imagine how I got through the next six hours. Luckily, my friends helped carry my load; I only had to carry my DSLR while hiking and shooting.

The beginning of the trail was normal—stone steps, flat and not too steep.

At first, we felt optimistic, taking photos of each other climbing Preikestolen.

But gradually, the trail got tough. First, water flowed across the path—our shoes weren't waterproof, so we had to step around it.

Then it became just gravel. Europeans were more professional—they had hiking boots and trekking poles.

Then the steps got steeper, requiring effort to climb.

How did we know the route on Preikestolen? Besides our map, about every half hour we encountered a signpost showing the direction and distance, letting us see how far we had to go. Our experience: the distance always felt discouraging because the climb was so hard—the number changed only slightly after a long time.

More often than signposts, we saw these red 'T' marks on rocks. As long as we saw them, we knew we were on the right track. If we didn't see one for a while, it meant a problem, and we'd need to backtrack to the last marker and adjust direction.

Many people brought pets along—usually the pets ran ahead while the humans panted behind. Animals are indeed more agile than humans, both in balance and endurance.

This sign said we were 2.2 km from the parking lot and 1.8 km from the summit—more than halfway. By then, we were exhausted. While drinking water, I recorded a video. Days later, watching that video was unbearable—our lipstick had smeared onto our teeth, and we were all laughing while panting, hands on hips.

Further on, there was no path—only rocks to carefully step down. Glad we were climbing with others; if alone, we wouldn't be sure we were on the right track.

I also recorded this part: a large rock, and a dog immediately jumped down while its owner let out the leash and tried to catch up—very funny.

See that red dot in the photo? We were here now—2.7 km from the start. Victory was near.

At this moment, we caught our first glimpse of the Lysefjord—so exciting! I took a posed photo to commemorate.

After that, the trail became easier—flat and not too steep, and we followed the fjord with beautiful scenery.

Just before reaching Preikestolen, we encountered a large crack—a complete fissure through which we could see the water below.

Then, like a wild woman, I forgot my pain and started acting crazy. I'm really bold—the more spectacular the sight, the more I love it.

No, I need to build suspense—I can't let you see the next photo right away!

I'll write longer, add more blank lines, make you wait longer!

Because I finally fulfilled my wish—I made it to Preikestolen!

The sky was clear! And there was no wind! I really stood on the very tip of the corner of Preikestolen!

I took this photo that dominated my phone wallpaper and avatar for years.

Okay, here it goes—look! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That tiny figure on top is me. I instantly fell in love with this orange-red outfit. If I had worn blue, you wouldn't have found me, right? Haha, even now as I write this article, I'm still excited. I still vividly remember the satisfaction and gratitude of that moment.

Later, after descending, I posted a brief update on WeChat Moments—my friends back home were shocked: 'Is that really you on top?'

Haha, this day was worth it. This trip was worth it. So wonderful, so perfect.

After that, we played at the top, overlooking the Lysefjord and the boats passing below—they looked so tiny, like thin lines.

I sat on Preikestolen to relax and took a photo with the Lysefjord. The gentle breeze was so comfortable.

Preikestolen is huge—625 square meters. Except for the classic photo spot, there were few people, so we could take our time to enjoy the scenery. For example, I lay down at the edge and looked down—you don't want to see my view: a 600-meter cliff down to the horizon of the sea.

Preikestolen is not only great for portraits; every landscape shot is a masterpiece. Unlike the Sognefjord, the different way of visiting here creates a different perspective.

Sognefjord is about forests, waterfalls, snowy mountains, and pastoral scenes; Lysefjord is about blue water beneath steep cliffs.

After enjoying ourselves, we started descending. I didn't take a single photo on the way down—I closed the lens cap and slung the camera across my back. I don't really remember the descent—maybe I passed out from pain? Anyway, I achieved my dream—I successfully climbed Preikestolen.

We took the bus back to Tau, then the ferry to Stavanger. Actually, this stretch of sea is also a fjord called Boknafjorden. The west coast and nearby inland areas of Norway have many fjords, just not famous enough to be called attractions—we were actually traveling across different fjords every day.

It was very late when we returned to Stavanger, with no commuters left. Again, thanks to the midnight sun for giving us such a long, dream-fulfilling day.

We then went to our hotel in Stavanger. The next day we slept in, explored Stavanger's old town,

and even bought Pandora, haha! This Nordic trip really made me fall for Pandora. Why not wait until Denmark, the next stop? Pandora is a Danish brand! But this was a memory of my trip to Norway—I wanted to buy it where I was first drawn to it. Others buy fridge magnets at Preikestolen; I bought Pandora—funny, eh?

After that, we flew out of Stavanger. Do you see that golden area in the distance? That was our destination, the last stop of the whole Nordic trip: Copenhagen, Denmark.

Norway, goodbye. Even now as I revisit this trip, I feel so reluctant. Thank you, nature, thank you, Norway, for giving us this beautiful, unforgettable journey.

Before I knew it, we'd reached the end of the trip.

Remember Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales from childhood? Remember the Little Mermaid?

No matter the era or where you grew up, those eternal classics accompanied our childhood. A Nordic trip without fairy tales wouldn't be magical enough. So at the end of this trip, we decided to find the fairy-tale world of our childhood.

Denmark is the southernmost of the five Nordic countries, closest to the European continent. Therefore, Denmark is not as aloof as the other four—it's more approachable, and the trip here felt more like a vacation.

And it surprised us not only with fairy tales but also with the scorching and brilliant sunshine that only occurs about 1/52 of the year. In Denmark, temperatures above 30°C only happen about one week a year—and we were lucky enough to have it.

The Nordic summer is notoriously rainy. When we finally flew south, farther and farther from the Arctic Circle, we arrived in another season—we flew into that golden light over there.

Landing in Copenhagen, we experienced our first insomnia in Northern Europe not due to the midnight sun, but because of the heat. Nordic summers aren't hot, so air conditioning isn't standard in every room.

Because it was so hot, we went out early to explore the city. This 'metro' we took was above ground, so I'm not sure whether to call it metro or train—since it's operated by 'DSB' (haha, I laughed childishly again—my earlier teaser about 'NSB' losing to Denmark was accurate, right?). Actually, the name comes from Danish Danske Statsbaner, the Danish national railway.

Look at the brightness and contrast of this photo—completely different from the previous tone. Look at people's clothing—also very different. We went from an indeterminate season to a hot summer.

You know the UK weather—basically what we'd experienced for the past two weeks. If the UK temperature exceeds 30°C and the sun is out, everyone parties. Copenhagen rarely has such high temperatures—above 30°C for no more than a week in the entire year—so we were thrilled to catch it.

Because of the sunny weather, it was destined to be another super happy day.

The first stop in Copenhagen was certainly the Little Mermaid, located in the Langelinie Park.

Langelinie Park is a park along the coast of Langelinie, also called the seaside park, stretching several kilometers with various beautiful sculptures along the way. Walking through this park is delightful—one side is gardens and sculptures, the other is the harbor.

During this Nordic trip, each country left a deep impression on me. My impression of Denmark is this unforgettable sunny day and the heat—because of this extremely beautiful weather, we enjoyed extremely beautiful scenery.

The sky got clearer, even cloudless. Copenhagen's gardens have many large potted plants blooming brilliantly under the scorching sun.

Walking along, we encountered the symbol of Copenhagen and even Denmark—the Little Mermaid. It wasn't what I expected—from many promotional images, it looks large, but in reality, it's quite small. I'm very petite (around 40 kg), and look—she's even smaller than me?

The Little Mermaid is a bronze sculpture based on Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale 'The Little Mermaid.' In the tale, the little mermaid saves a prince when she is 15 and falls in love with him, but later the prince leaves her. The lovesick little mermaid still sits on the rock by the sea every day, waiting for the prince's return.

The Little Mermaid faces the park, i.e., north. If you shoot from the front, it's backlit. Shooting from the east or west gives a more three-dimensional view. I shot from the east, capturing her graceful pose and gentle tail.

You can view the Little Mermaid not only from the park but also from boat tours—Copenhagen offers various boat tours.

Now let me show you the Little Mermaid's popularity—360-degree attention. On the shore and sea, people raised their cameras and binoculars to see her.

I'm not particularly fond of children, nor do I plan to have any, but in Copenhagen I encountered a 'deceive-you-into-having-a-daughter' scene—the little girl was so cute and beautiful, and being with her mother was so heartwarming. At that moment, I even hesitated.

On both sides of the path, there were flowerbeds—real summer flowers, so brilliant and charming.

Langelinie Park is very long, but walking is never boring—there are sculptures of all heights on both sides.

I really like this place—it's like the fairy-tale world I imagined: a garden with a pointed church, elegant women, and stories.

Walking further, we arrived at another fountain as famous as the Little Mermaid in Langelinie Park—the Gefion Fountain. Composed of bronze sculptures of Gefion and four oxen with a plow, it was created by Danish sculptor Anders Bundgaard, taking 10 years, and was unveiled in 1908—now over 100 years old.

The Gefion Fountain comes from a beautiful folk legend: Gefion asked the gods to grant her land to live on. The gods said, 'As much land as you can plow in a day, I'll give you.' So Gefion turned her four sons into strong oxen and plowed day and night.

Look at my OOTD—so different from earlier days. No more thick jacket, no long pants—with the great weather, I immediately changed into my flip-flops and showed off my 'long legs' haha. The photo is a bit compressed, but you can faintly see the Pandora I bought yesterday in Stavanger's old town—a ring and a necklace with fresh little pink flowers, matching my outfit today.

At that time, I had a long-distance boyfriend in China, so I wore the ring on my middle finger. When editing this photo, I thought about Photoshoping it out, but then I thought: a person's courage and confidence are reflected in accepting the past. Since I lived seriously at that time, no matter the outcome, it's a period worth celebrating and remembering. So why hide or deny your past? Besides, that day I was overjoyed wearing Pandora—it only took one Nordic trip to go from disliking the brand to loving it—that happiness deserves to be recorded. So I decided to keep this beautiful memory.

Leaving Langelinie Park, we arrived at Kongens Nytorv—the essence of Copenhagen.

The square features Frederik's Church, Amalienborg Palace, and the Changing of the Guard ceremony.

The Changing of the Guard takes place in front of Amalienborg Palace, the current Danish royal residence. Unlike the Royal Palace in Sweden, the Danish royal family still lives here. If the flag on the square is raised, it means the Danish queen is in residence.

Amalienborg Palace consists of four identical buildings. Tourists can visit two of them: Christian VIII's Palace and Christian VII's Palace.

The Changing of the Guard here is much simpler than in Stockholm—short and straightforward.

Behind me is Frederik's Church. Being 'uncultured,' we admired the exterior architecture and then went to find the best ice cream in Copenhagen.

After the changing of the guard, the guards energetically began their duties—I couldn't help noticing how white and tall Nordic people are.

Copenhagen also has a developed water system—boats and harbors everywhere. The Danish flag fluttered brightly under the sun.

Before long, we arrived at this famous ice cream shop. All waffle cones are freshly baked, the ice cream rich with milk flavor, with many choices and various toppings, plus coffee—a paradise on a hot summer day.

This is the softest ice cream I've ever seen—it's called 'soft ice' in Norwegian. So soft that when I took it out to pose with the ice cream sculpture at the entrance, it immediately melted. You can imagine how we ate this cone—probably with no grace at all.

(Repetition noted, but preserved as in original)

The shore was lively—under the umbrellas of restaurants along Nyhavn, tables were full of diners, with music playing.

These colorful houses here are not wooden, otherwise they'd look just like Bryggen.

Taking a photo with Nyhavn—the trip was almost over, and we relaxed, wandering the city aimlessly, which was wonderful.

Continuing on, we arrived at Slotsholmen, an island in Copenhagen's inner city that houses many central Danish institutions.

This place has a strong historical feel—the buildings are interesting. That building with a pointed, twisted spire behind me was really fun.

When photographing the Old Stock Exchange, I happened to catch some Danish women cycling by. Considering portrait rights, I rarely include other people in my photos—only a few with backs turned, sunglasses, or unclear faces. This one was safe to share—I loved it: Danish history and beauties.

I think the most interesting part of Copenhagen isn't the bottom of buildings, but the roofs of old buildings—each one unique and special.

It was so hot that we thought of buying a bottle of cold water from a convenience store, where I found these: bottled water with fresh mint leaves and fruit. I quickly bought one to try.

This photo is so interesting—Danes have social boldness comparable to Brits. When someone spots a camera, they come to join the photo (though I do the same, haha). This is Copenhagen City Hall Square. While my friend was taking my photo, a tall, handsome guy immediately dropped his bike and rushed into my frame to 'mess up' the photo—he was so fast! After the mischief, he ran off. My friend quickly snapped a few shots—didn't catch that exact moment, but I think this one is funny enough.

I really love this culture—sharing joy. You should look through your travel photos—maybe you'll find me 'messing around' in them, haha.

This is the famous Hans Christian Andersen. Out of respect, I won't introduce him—everyone knows him. Any part of the statue reachable by humans has lost its green patina—people love him so much.

We continued wandering the streets without purpose, encountering people crossing at traffic lights. Copenhagen's city center is so lively, and Danes are so good-looking.

On a shopping street in the city center, we found a bubble machine outside a children's store. Colorful bubbles shimmered in the sunlight, so childlike.

I took this photo because the pigeon on the statue's head is not part of the sculpture. At first, we thought it was interesting—a woman holding a child with a pigeon on her head—then we realized the pigeon moved—so amusing.

Then, when we were dying from the heat, we stumbled upon Denmark's most famous dessert shop—we couldn't miss it. We ordered a few slices of cake recommended by the staff. I chose a slice of plain cake with a cream puff—it was huge; a single plate couldn't hold it (and this was a normal dinner plate, not a dessert plate). Denmark's 'slice' is different from what we're used to, haha.

The cake shop was semi-underground; looking up, we could see ground level and the wedding cakes displayed in the window.

This photo is the last one from this segment of my memory, and also the last photo of this article. Taken on the evening we left Copenhagen. After that, we boarded our flight back to London, returning from a sun-drenched day to a cloudy night.

This Nordic trip felt like a dream—from night to day, starting the journey; then from day back to night, ending it.

I'm so grateful to have met Northern Europe on this solstice, to have had this wonderful trip, with so many firsts and so many 'planetary extremes.' Thankful for the magic and gift of nature, thankful for the generations that created history and culture, thankful for travel that slowly takes us around the world.

Goodbye to the four Nordic countries—we will meet again. After all, this was a journey without night; I haven't seen you in the dark yet, nor seen the Northern Lights here.

Thus ends this magical journey.

Writing this article has been the happiest thing this early summer—from editing photos, to researching various materials, to slowly recording this trip. During the process, I had the chance to go abroad again to see my beloved world, to see the exciting version of myself before the pandemic, and to discover how I've grown.

While preparing this Nordic travelogue, I listened to many Nordic songs, read many introductions about Northern Europe, and even read many texts translated from Nordic languages into English. I gained a deeper understanding of Northern Europe than before, and also deeper feelings. In a time when I can't travel abroad, returning to the beginning of each journey and rediscovering the world is also a blessing.

I love the five Nordic countries very much, and I love our Nordic foursome. We are all nature lovers. As I said at the beginning, together we chased the Northern Lights in Iceland at the start of the year, and spent the midnight sun in the other four Nordic countries mid-year—unforgettable trips spent with them.

Over the years, I've traveled half the world, but the most extreme scenery I've encountered is in Northern Europe. Its special geographical location gives rise to extreme landscapes. The Arctic Circle, midnight sun, polar night, aurora—all beautiful, unreal phenomena have the character 'extreme,' so this place is also extremely beautiful.

There's always a time to say goodbye. Writing this brings goosebumps again. I'm a very emotional person, always feeling reluctant in a thousand ways. When I said goodbye to this trip back then, I was reluctant; now, revisiting Northern Europe today, I'm reluctant again.

The next article is already in the works. Soon, we'll meet again in the next journey.

Yours,

Lavinia Chen (Cheng Man)

June 10, 2022

Travelogue Contents:

1. Let's Go, Spend the Solstice in the Arctic Circle

2. 🇫🇮 Magical Finland, Pure Happiness

3. Helsinki｜Midnight Sun Tour During Layover

4. Rovaniemi｜The Arctic Circle and Santa Claus

5. 🇸🇪 Artistic Sweden, the Peaceful Kingdom

6. Stockholm｜That Deep Dark Cloud

7. Swedish Subway｜Stations as Artworks

8. 🇳🇴 Miraculous Norway, Nature's Gift

9. Bergen｜The Most Beautiful Port on the West Coast

10. Norway in a Nutshell｜Collecting Many World Extremes

11. Unknown｜A Journey to an Unknown Fjord

12. Preikestolen｜Just Those Three Words Are Enough

13. 🇩🇰 Fairy-Tale Denmark, Scorching Brilliance

14. Copenhagen｜That Brilliant Summer Fairy Tale

15. Afterword

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