Fjørdgasm: Norway on the half shell

Since I'm on a roll with the travel tips & random observations, let's say you're on a road trip in Norway, and you have brought a cooler for your food. You'd think that, of all the things, obtaining some ice to keep your reindeer steak and cod fillets cool should be the least of your problems. Not so fast. Unlike in the U.S., where any gas station, convenience store, supermarket, or bodega will have bags of ice for sale, ice turned out to be hard to find in Norway , as we discovered just a few hours into the trip. Gas stations don't have ice. Supermarkets don't have ice. Campgrounds don't have ice. There's ice in the glaciers, but you're not standing next to a glacier ( which, don't ). You're on the road. Kiwi to the rescue. The ubiquitous Norwegian grocery chain Kiwi carries, at least in all the stores we tried, bags of ice. You might have to poke around at bit, as it's a separate freezer from the frozen food section. Find your ...

In more travel tips & random observations: If you're going to road trip through Norway, give yourself time. Thing number one not to do: Lean out the window, slap the side of your car, and yell, “Ey! We're driving here!” Things take the time that they take. And besides, if you're going to be in a rush, all those German camper vans, which appear to be acceleration and speed limited at the factory, will give you a heart attack. Relax and breathe in the fresh air.

In travel tips & random observations, if you're travelling with kids in Norway you need to be aware of and/or warned about Sjokade. This is either the best or worst thing to happen to bread ever. Sjokade is literally chocolate spread for your Norwegian-style sandwiches. As our experience shows, once a child, let's take for example Mia, gets a taste, there's no turning back. Pro: Your child will happily scarf down Norwegian whole-grain bread. Fiber yay! Con: Your child is from now on demanding chocolate for breakfast and lunch. Be warned.

We make Kaupanger on the Fodnes-Manheller ferry , our first of many ferry rides, by 5 PM or so, and proceed up, and up, and up to my old friend Kjersti's house — the one her husband built, at the top of the road, with the priceless view. To get there, we have wound our way through quintessential inland-Norway landscapes, driving up Hallingdalen, the Halling valley. The lower sections of Riksveg 7 , National Route 7, curves lazily past Krøderen lake, then along Hallingdalselva, flanked by spruce and birch forest, rugged hillsides, and the occasional rocky crags where trolls at one time stood tossing the boulders piled up below. Picturesque farms dot the side of the road with their characteristic red barns and traditional log storehouses. It's a relaxing and pleasant start to the Fjørdgasm, this low-key beauty. This isn't the Norway that broadsides you with scenery so epic it punches you in the eyeballs. It's modest and unhurried. After a break for a Norwegia...

Today, we ride. That is, just as soon as everybody's up and ready and we get the car loaded. Us adults have been up since 7. It's a beautiful day in Hokksund, Norway. The sun is shining, and it's neither too warm or too cold. Mia is beaming, because Mia loves life and that's just how she lives it. There is, however, a snag. Well, two snags. One is more of an omen. We'll get back to that. The first snag is, our shit won't fit. The plan was good. Our measurements were exact. And yet, the roof box Volvo supplied us with won't close. There was one flaw in our reasoning, an unknown unknown, if you will. We'd measured out placing everyone's duffel in the box, and we made a point of bringing duffels , not suitcases, for that reason — because they squish. When your luggage is just a little bit overstuffed, you push the lid down, pull the zipper, and presto! , it stays closed. In our minds, the roof box would work the same way. We'd just need to...

Your car has arrived. Traci and Quinn have made the arduous journey to Göteborg, Sweden, travelling premium on SAS courtesy of the Volvo Overseas Delivery program. After some makeshift grub a three-course meal at Norda Bar & Grill, roughing it a comfortable night's sleep at the Clarion Hotel Post, and a proper Scandinavian breakfast, also courtesy of the Volvo Corporation, Traci and Quinn have picked up our ride straight off the factory floor. Odometer reading: 00000. It'll take more to rub that shine and new-car smell out than their 4-hour drive from Göteborg to Hokksund, though over the next 18 days we'll do our damndest. At the moment, nonetheless, I'm afraid to even touch her. Which is a problem, because somehow all our crap has to get crammed into and strapped onto this gleaming monument to Swedish perfectionism. Do we really need to start loading her up yet? “What are we waiting for? Let's go !” The baby is ready to go, of course, becaus...

And then the other shoe drops, when Bunny brings the Fjørdgasm to a crashing halt but for a daring last-minute rescue. Despite United Airlines and Newark Liberty Airport's best efforts, we finally looked down on the rolling hills of eastern Norway, furry with Norway spruce and dotted with farms and lakes, through the windows of SAS 458 from Copenhagen to Oslo. Her Miniature Majesty, Mia, not yet two and already proven as resilient and irrepressible a world traveler as any of us, is napping, as 24 hours of traveling will make you do. We'll wake her up to walk her through customs, having already checked passports in Copenhagen, then get our luggage, then haul it downstairs to board the train for Hokksund. It takes more than a few planes and airports to suppress these people's spirits. Crabby? Not at all. This little girl is as excited to be traveling as she was on day one. Every airplane is equally delightful and new, not to mention the train ! Standing by the do...

So here we were, 36 hours after we checked in with United in Kansas City, MO, and officially launched the Fjørdgasm: In Newark, New Jersey, still a good 20 hours away from landing in Oslo. A day at Newark Liberty with a not-quite-two-year-old was not part of the plan, damnit, but United Airlines and this mess of an airport had other plans. Mia, despite having apparently decided sleep is overrated, has been delighted and a delight, though; I'm starting to think she thrives on this, and maybe we should spend more time in airports. She likes airplanes. But let me tell you what happened … Dry-eraser coloring book, one of several life savers Traci bought for us. Traci rocks. Mia, Lilie, Emma, and I had been at Newark Liberty since 10:30 in the morning, when we landed from Kansas City on the flight that was supposed to be there yesterday, 18 hours earlier, in time for us to get on our non-stop flight to Oslo. Instead of getting happily whisked off directl...

T minus 7 days! This is happening! In a week, the first batch of us fly out of Kansas City, Missouri, to officially launch the Fjørdgasm! Are we preparing? Yes! Are we packing? Yes! Are we carefully considering every inch of space? Yes! Also, more exclamation marks! We are those people now! Check this out; this is how, in a surprise move, organized we are being! Pro-level prep: We marked out the footprint of the roof box and the rear cargo space. This is not an option. (Photo: Telegraph Herald ) Cramming six people into one vehicle for three weeks is a game of three-dimensional Tetris. And, if you're flying somewhere and then taking a road trip, that ups the stakes, because you don't have the option of figuring it out in the driveway at home and leaving the crap back in the garage that won't fit in the car. Stuff either flies with you or it doesn't, so let's get organizised ! The basics: Duffels. Suitcase, especially hard-sided suitcases, are a...

Let's say you're on a budget, like us, and you want to save some money travelling Norway, as we do. Let's also say you're, like us, at least reasonably outdoorsy. Bring a tent . Now your cost of lodging drops to anywhere from US $20-30/night to zero, zip, nada. Norway is dotted with campgrounds where you can pitch your tent for $20-30 a night and usually have access to bathroom facilities, showers — I am a big fan of not stinking — and often a laundry room and kitchen. You will probably also an outlet available for a few extra kroners so you can charge up the GoPro. (Mind: Norway's grid is 220 volt. Plug your U.S.-spec 110-volt heated blanket in at night and you may find yourself in the burn unit the next morning.) Facilities other than bathrooms are often coin operated, so keep some change on hand. And take quick showers. Free, though? Yes indeed. Free. Almost anywhere. On the beach. In the forest. On the mountain. By the river. Norway has this nifty freedom...

My dad bought his Volvo P1800 in Kansas City, Missouri, in 1967. This guy. Not that exact P1800. That one's from Wikipedia, but you get the idea. Same car. He was the dashing young Norwegian doctor doing his residency at the University of Kansas, zipping down Mass Street with his beautiful wife in that white imported sports car. The same car Simon Templar drove in “The Saint”. When he and my mom went back to Norway in '68 just a few months before I was born, they had it shipped. I remember squeezing into the back seat, all three inches of it, as a kid, and, later, driving it. He sold it some 20-odd years ago. Last I heard, it was driving in Finnsnes, the town where he was born. The same town we're going back to, in a white Volvo, this summer. The Volvo Traci is picking up for us in Gothenburg, Sweden. Finnsnes, Norway, 1956. My dad left Finnsnes for boarding school that year. (Photo: Finnsnes ) There are some circles being completed here. I left Norway...

The other day I posted on the financial headache that is finding places to sleep, and preferably get shelter from our less than accommodating climate, for anyone who doesn't have bags of money sitting around taking up space. Then I thought, well, I already know what's what because I grew up there. I'm what you might call an expert. Or a local. What if I were thinking about traveling to Norway on a budget and I didn't know anything? Well, if that is you, I'm going to crank out some posts that should be helpful. First, let's place your budget and expectations on a scale. On a scale of comfortable to student , where are you? If you have a savings account and some actual disposable income, this post is for you. If your dinners commonly involve instant ramen and tuna in the can, feel free to skip this post. I'll get back to you with something better. On a scale of down comforter to off-the-grid rugged , where are you? ...

Odds are, when someone here in the States finds out I'm Norwegian, the first thing they'll tell me is how they've heard it's so beautiful. Mm-hmm. This is true. The next thing is how they want to go there someday. Well … start saving . Obstacle number one to Fjørdgasm: Money. Norway is famously expensive. Norway's so expensive even Swedes joke about it, and Sweden is not exactly a bargain, either. But, hey, the good news is more expensive destinations exist . So hurra for that and heia Norge : The Land of the Midnight Sun is only fourth on the list of most expensive places to visit . Bermuda, Switzerland, and the Bahamas are more expensive. So there's that. In any event, we're going . One way or another we were going to pull this off, so here's a crash course on how to make a Norwegian vacation, if not affordable, at least not sell-both-kidneys-and-your-left-eye, absolute-ruin, sackcloth-and-ashes pricy. Rule number one: No hotels. US $100 buy...

Getting old did not come as a surprise. I mean, why should it? It’s not as if the passage of time had proceeded secretly to be revealed — ta-da! — on my fiftieth birthday. Even if it had, when my dad passed away just a couple of months earlier, after months of close calls and increasing, painfully visible frailty, there could have been no more urgent reminder that I’m not here indefinitely and I’ve used up a significant chunk of my allotted time already. So here I am, old. (Older, fifty being the new forty, you know). But I was prepared and I had planned. I had planned to a degree completely out of character for someone mostly inclined to wing it. I literally pored over maps, for months. I coordinated calendars, driving distances, logistics, and acquisitions. I agonized over destinations and sights, which to include, which to skip. I am planning the Last Big Trip , dammit, the trip I’d wanted to take for years but somehow could never afford or find the time for. Tomorr...