The Long Way Home: A Dramatic Monologue From the Driver’s Seat of My Own Sanity

March 28, 2026

I wake up in Bergen for the last time on this trip, staring at the ceiling like it personally betrayed me by allowing morning to happen. My legs still ache from the hike up Fløyen, my soul is still recovering from being judged by Mariakirken, and my car is parked outside like a loyal but slightly traumatized steed. Today begins the long journey home — a journey that will take me across countries, across seas, and across the fragile boundaries of my own patience.

I sit up, stretch, and whisper to myself, “You chose this.” It does not help.

Leaving Bergen: A Farewell to Chaos and Cinnamon Buns

I load up the car, take one last look at the mountains, and feel a pang of sadness. Bergen has been beautiful, chaotic, humbling, and aggressively vertical. But now it’s time to go. I start the engine, and the GPS lights up with a route so long it looks like a dare.

The road out of Bergen is a series of tunnels, bridges, and scenic views that feel like they were designed by someone who wanted to distract me into crashing. Norway does not believe in boring roads. Norway believes in drama.

As I drive, I reflect on the past days — the churches, the hikes, the goats with questionable morals. I feel wiser. Stronger. Hungrier. Always hungrier.

Oslo: A One‑Night Stand With Civilization

Hours later, I roll into Oslo, a city that feels like Bergen’s polished, urban cousin who drinks espresso and has opinions about architecture. I check into my hotel, drop my bags, and immediately collapse onto the bed like a Victorian heroine fainting at the sight of a scandalous ankle.

But I rally. I wander the streets, admire the opera house, and eat something that costs more than my dignity. Oslo is sleek, modern, and suspiciously clean. I feel like I should be wearing nicer shoes.

Back in the hotel, I stare at the ceiling again, this time whispering, “Tomorrow, Copenhagen.” The ceiling remains unmoved.

The Drive to Copenhagen: A Symphony of Tunnels and Existential Dread

March 29, 2026

The next morning, I hit the road early. Norway slowly melts into Sweden, and Sweden stretches on forever like a polite but endless hallway. I pass forests, lakes, and IKEA signs that feel like spiritual checkpoints.

At some point, I begin narrating my own life out loud, because the silence is too powerful.

“Here I am,” I say dramatically, “a lone traveler on the road, fueled by caffeine and questionable life choices.”

A truck driver overtakes me. I feel judged.

Crossing into Denmark feels like leveling up in a video game. Suddenly everything is flatter, friendlier, and full of wind turbines that look like they’re waving hello.

Copenhagen: The City That Knows It’s Cool

I arrive in Copenhagen, a city so effortlessly stylish it makes me want to apologize for my entire wardrobe. Bicycles zip past me with the confidence of creatures who know they are the true rulers here.

I check into my hotel, wander the streets, and eat something delicious that I cannot pronounce. I consider renting a bike, but then remember I value my life.

Copenhagen is charming, vibrant, and full of people who look like they were born knowing how to layer clothing. I feel like a potato in comparison, but a happy potato.

To be continue…..next Stop Hamburg Germany

Hamburg: Where I Question My Life Choices

March 30, 2026

Good morning, I drive south again, crossing into Germany. The autobahn welcomes me with open arms and absolutely no speed limits. I am not built for this. My car is not built for this. My soul is definitely not built for this.

Cars zoom past me at speeds that should require a pilot’s license. I cling to the steering wheel like it’s a flotation device.

Hamburg appears like a lighthouse guiding me back to sanity. I check into my hotel, eat something hearty, and stare at the harbor lights reflecting on the water. It’s beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s exactly what I need.

Then I remember I still have Brussels, Amsterdam, and a 13‑hour ferry ahead of me.

I order dessert.

Brussels: Chocolate, Waffles, and Emotional Support

March 31, 2026

The drive to Brussels is long but manageable. Belgium greets me with chocolate, waffles, and a general sense of calm that I desperately need. I wander the Grand Place, which looks like it was designed by someone who wanted to win an architecture competition and then said, “No, more gold.”

I buy chocolate. I eat chocolate. I consider replacing all future meals with chocolate.

Brussels is warm, comforting, and full of carbs. I feel safe here.

On to Amsterdam tomorrow.