
I’m standing at the edge of a fjord, gazing across glassy, gold-lit water under a sun that never set. It’s just past midnight, and I’m bleary-eyed and exhilarated. Norway is full of moments like this: vast and bright, offering a kind of beauty that makes you feel both tiny and impossibly alive.
I’m in Bruvik, a small village an hour outside Bergen on Norway’s west coast. Rugged mountains rise out of the glacial water, inviting me to take an icy plunge. Despite Bergen receiving 250 days of rain per year, it’s a balmy 26C and not a cloud in sight. Perfect for a rookie outdoors enthusiast whose main experience with sleeping under canvas is at a music festival, perhaps once a year.