If you’ve ever looked at a map and thought, “Yeah… we could totally do all of that,” this story is for you.
Every best friend duo has the same setup. The one who lives life with absolutely no fear of consequences and the one who is deeply aware of consequences. I am the latter. Reason does not always win, but reason does always speak up.
Here is my unsolicited but hard-earned advice. If you are the friend with reason and the friend with no consequences calls you with a trip idea and your entire body screams no …. listen. In the moment, I told myself it was a “new experience,” a “get out of your comfort zone” opportunity.
Incorrect.
My body was simply predicting the future state of that same body. Sometimes your body knows what’s best. I believe the word for that is discernment …. Use it.
This trip was ambitious, chaotic, and the reason Kira is no longer allowed to plan travel without supervision. What was meant to be reasonable Nordic itinerary turned into Seattle to Norway to the Arctic Circle to Iceland, packed with fjords, ferries, trains, orcas, dog sledding, snowmobiles, injuries, and a masterclass in humility.
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We met in Seattle and kicked things off with an Icelandair flight that immediately set expectations. Cozy plane. Layers on layers. Sleep optional.
We landed in Oslo feeling accomplished and deeply unprepared. The original plan involved luggage storage, city exploration, and a night train. Exhaustion said no. We pivoted to a last-minute flight to Bergen instead, marking the first of many times we would find ourselves sitting in an airport wondering how we got here.
Efficient? Yes. Relaxing? Absolutely not.
What We Planned to See in Oslo
What We Did See in Bergen
We were clearly there in the off season, which meant limited dining options and a recurring game of “Is anything open and does it serve food we want to eat?”
We had a relaxing night at the Radisson Blu Royal Hotel thanks to not taking the night train, and woke up like functional adults before we made our way to the train station after a bakery stop. The plan was a fjord cruise followed by the Flåm Railway, often called one of the most scenic train rides in the world.
That part is true. It deserves the hype.
The Logistics (because fjords demand them)
Train from Bergen to Voss.
Bus from Voss to Gudvangen.
About an hour to explore Gudvangen.
Fjord cruise from Gudvangen to Flåm.
Now. We need to address the fog.
Kira will tell you she loves fog for photography. Fine. But she tends to get more than she bargains for. This woman made the classic mistake of saying, out loud, “I hope there’s fog during our fjord tour.”
I could have choked her.
Three quarters of the trip was socked in by fog. We couldn’t see anything. Nothing! Not a thing! How are those photos looking now, KIRA?
I have since banned the use of the F word on future trips.
After Bergen, we flew north to Tromsø and officially entered Arctic territory.
The journey included flights, ferries, reindeer burgers, card games, and the creeping realization that winter travel requires flexibility.
And then came the reason we were there.
We were scheduled for several days with Valhalla Expeditions. This is not casual tourism. The expectation is 6 to 8 hours a day out on the water.
On our first night, after dinner and a safety briefing, we were walking back to the house we were sharing with six other travelers when Kira slipped on the ice and went down hard. As someone from the Midwest, she will tell you slipping on ice is nothing new. This fall, however, was memorable in all the wrong ways and should have been our first clue.
Despite that, we pushed forward.
That first night, you are issued your gear. Fins. Safety orange headgear. Goggles. Gloves. All of it then sits outside all night in the freezing Arctic so you can enjoy putting it on in the morning.
In the morning, after you and your six roommates for the week use the single shower to get your suit on, you walk from your cabin to the dock in your drysuit, robe, and drysuit booties. By the time you arrive, you are frozen. Then you put on additional frozen gear and board an open air zodiac while being pelted by icy waves.
They teach you ways to stay warm. Move your arms. Move your legs. After several hours, this stops working. You reach a point where you assume that at best you will lose a limb and at worst, this is how you die.
Once in the water, the drysuits actually do their job and it’s fairly comfortable. The boat is the worst part. Especially if you have an unconcerned crew. It’s important to note that if you’re unable to get yourself back into the boat using the dunk-and-pull method, they will provide a ladder. That said, Kira learned firsthand that the crew will absolutely judge you for using it and harshly. Still, no amount of judgment (or pain) was going to keep her from getting back in the boat to see orcas.
Seeing orcas in the wild was absolutely incredible. That day, however, the captain let us know they were moving too fast to safely get back into the water, which was disappointing but understandable.
Half our boat voted to turn back early. By the next day, more than half of our cohort either left or refused to go back out, opting to stay at base camp instead.
The bonus was that this location gave us the best northern lights of the entire trip and created a rare environment to make friends from around the world.
The downside was the crew. They seemed genuinely shocked that not everyone was finding pure joy in the freezing experience and were judgmental and unsupportive when our cohort struggled. As if this had never happened before.
Recommendation. Do a one-day excursion out of Tromsø. You’re warm inside before heading out on zodiacs, and it’s only one day of pain.
We returned earlier than planned.
Kira spent a day and a half recovering at the Clarion Hotel the Edge while I roamed the city alone. Coffee shops. Artsy stores. Cozy pubs. Hands down one of my favorite memories.
This happened to coincide with the presidential inauguration back home. When locals and other travelers heard my accent, they would tilt their heads and gently ask how I was doing and if I was safe.
One conversation at my favorite art collective ended with both of us crying. She offered to help me stay if I needed to, but encouraged me to go home and continue the good fight. Inclusion advocacy is, after all, my day job.
Everyone was kind. Genuinely kind.
By day seven, Kira rallied enough to join an afternoon excursion to feed reindeer. We traveled north to a Sami base camp, learned about reindeer care and Sami culture, met an incredible guide, and approximately one million very cute reindeer.
Dog sledding with Active North was a highlight. Each pair gets their own sled and dogs. You learn how to drive, how to ride safely, and then head out across stunning scenery, including a frozen lake.
At the turnaround point, Kira and I switched driver and rider. I named all the dogs and immediately got invested in the interpersonal drama of our sled team. There were plenty of stops for dog breaks and snuggles. Ten out of ten.
Then came snowmobiling.
After dog sledding, we split off and headed to a new location. Our guide was young, enthusiastic, and thorough with safety. We switched drivers halfway.
Kira is now in control. Cue the fear my body tried to warn me about during planning.
As Kira will skim over this part, it’s fine, we can talk about it.
The snowmobile tipped. My leg was pinned. I heard the pop.
I’ve heard that pop before.
I tore my ACL. In the Arctic Circle. Near the top of Norway. No civilization in sight.
The guide and Kira got me onto the back of his snowmobile and back to base camp. An ambulance was called, but the wait was long. Two doctors on the next tour helped remove my boot and get meds on board.
Because this was my second ACL tear, I knew what was coming. I stayed calm. Eventually we decided I wasn’t dying, so we returned by taxi.
Before leaving Tromsø, we made one last stop to get my knee properly supported for travel. A snowstorm rolled in, so we camped out in the hotel lobby until it was time to head to the airport.
That evening, we flew back to Oslo and checked into the Comfort Hotel Grand Central which was conveniently connected to the train station. Luxurious, primarily because it meant minimal crutching.
The next morning, we once again found ourselves back at the airport. At this point, it felt less like travel and more like a personality trait.
From Oslo, we flew to Reykjavík, grabbed a rental car, and headed straight to our hotel before dinner and Sky Lagoon. This was a much-needed nervous system reset after everything our bodies had been through.
Reykjavík greeted us with a blizzard. Digging the car out took patience, teamwork, and aggressive use of the key fob.
Dinner that night was hot dogs. Everywhere. Efficient. Delicious. Zero decision fatigue.
Even though the Blue Lagoon is iconic, we chose Sky Lagoon, and honestly, it was the right call. Sky Lagoon offers the Skjól Ritual, a seven-step wellness experience rooted in Icelandic bathing culture. The ritual moves you through a sequence of hot soaking, cold plunge, sauna, steam, exfoliation, misting, and relaxation, designed to reset your body and nervous system.
What stood out most was how inclusive and thoughtfully designed the experience was. The orientation is clear. The flow is intuitive. And the staff and layout are prepared for people of all abilities to fully experience the facility. If you need assistance navigating between steps, that support is available.
For me, the heat of the lagoon allowed my leg to relax enough that I could slowly and cautiously move through the ritual on my own. It felt empowering, restorative, and genuinely accessible in a way that many “luxury” experiences are not.
Snow fell while we soaked, staring out over the ocean. It was the calmest we had felt in days.
After a nights sleep at Hotel Reykjavik Centrum, we explored the next day slowly. Rainbow Road. Artsy shops. Wandering without an agenda. I crutched everywhere and refused to let it ruin the moment.
By the time we were checked out and ready to head to the airport, we were tired in the best way. The kind of tired that comes from doing too much and somehow surviving it together.
This itinerary was ambitious, chaotic, and physically transformative. It was also unforgettable.
Would I do everything the same way again? Absolutely not.
Am I grateful we went? Yes.
Did Norway’s universal healthcare show up when it mattered? A resounding yes. Shout out to a system that delivered crutches, meds, and dignity without bankrupting me.
Discernment matters. Bodies know things. And best friends should probably always travel together. Just maybe with fewer excursions.
According to both of us.
