To the North Cape by Camper: Norway Road Trip 2025 – Spearfishing, King Crab & Lofoten

Ready for the adventure of a lifetime? My Norway road trip 2025 took me by camper from Cologne all the way to the legendary North Cape – across Sweden, Finland and the endless expanses of Scandinavia. Along the way, I experienced spectacular fjords, the magical midnight sun and untouched nature far away from any civilization. The focus for me was fishing in Norway and intense spearfishing Norway: from powerful cod and coalfish to huge king crabs that I pulled directly from the Arctic water.

In this report, I share my experiences, my route and everything I learned for my camper road trip Norway – from planning to the best spots. If you are interested in North Cape travel experiences, great fishing spots Norway and real adventure, you will get an honest insight into a trip that had a lasting impact on me.

16.05.2025 Preparation for the Norway road trip: camper, equipment & planning

Two weeks of preparation had passed, an endless mountain of gear piled up in our living room and office. I have to admit, only a tiny part belonged to my wife, the majority to me. Spearguns piled up on top of surfcasting rods, spearguns, spinning rods, gaffs, spearfishing equipment and so on and so forth. Rounded off by a 25 kg Jackery solar generator, I had put together equipment that was second to none. We could have calmly faced an apocalypse with this setup. Norway was the destination. In a rented camper, we were to travel all the way up to the North Cape. Andy and his wife Miriam had managed to convince my wife Anika at our wedding to take on this adventure together. At first, Anika was not very convinced, but the fully equipped van with shower, 2 m bed and toilet changed her mind (at least a little). We had booked the camper through Hannes Camper and paid around €3000 for 23 days. The preparation consisted of checking all the fishing equipment, the reels had to be freshly spooled, and the tackle shop also took its toll – after all, anglers go shopping, not fish. A new Penn reel and a 50 lb Penn travel rod complemented the existing equipment. The spear tips had to be sharpened again. The teak wood speargun needed a new sealing. In the far north, replacements would be impossible to find, everything had to be in perfect condition. Large quantities of beer and food completed the mountain of gear. Buying beer in Norway can become a painful matter, the cheapest stuff often costs €4 per can.

From day to day, my fear grew that we would never be able to load all our stuff into the car. A new DJI camera was supposed to capture the upcoming trip in finest 4K quality.

On the day of departure, we had everything organized, neighbors instructed, garden watered, automatic irrigation set. At work, I tried to complete the daily tasks as quickly as possible in order to be able to leave early. At 16:00 we were finally able to head towards the camper rental. The extensive briefing gave us the reassuring feeling of being prepared for all potential difficulties. The 5.99 m Citroën Jumper van made an excellent impression. It offered everything needed for a comfortable journey.

At 18:00 I maneuvered the van through the Cologne neighborhoods to pick up the light luggage at home.

Fortunately, my father had offered to help us with loading, after an hour of carrying and Tetris-like stacking we had everything stowed in the camper. Surprisingly, everything found its place in the van. One last check around the apartment and off we went. At 19:00 we rolled out of Cologne via the Innere Kanalstraße onto the highway heading north.

Up north – Night drive to Denmark

Driving such a long vehicle takes some getting used to, but once you get out of the habit of looking into the non-existent rearview mirror, it becomes a lot of fun. We rolled into the evening at high speed. Andy was a good 350 km ahead of us. Our destination for the evening was the Ammoniakhaven in Denmark. Shortly before Bremen we got stuck in a short traffic jam, the sun slowly sank below the horizon. The Elbe tunnel soon opened up in front of us, it was and remains for me the gateway to the north, a world full of primeval giant fish, polar landscapes and midnight sun awaited us. Andy had already arrived at the spot and our clock still showed 300 km at 23:30, no matter, no problem. Our good mood carried us through the night. The Danish border was, as always, no problem. The last 250 km led through the dead straight Danish solitude, good techno and a peacefully sleeping wife next to me put me in a happy and content mood.

When we arrived at the Ammoniakhaven at 02:34, Andy’s motorhome was already there overlooking the sea. To the right was the Lillebælt bridge under which a three-quarter blood moon was rising. Behind us was the Ammoniakhaven, an abandoned Danish industrial site with large storage facilities. The Ammoniakhaven is a small harbor in northern Denmark, near the town of Hanstholm on the North Sea coast. It was originally built in the 1950s for the handling and transport of ammonia for the fishing industry – hence the name. Since Andy and Miri could not be woken by discreet honking and knocking, I enjoyed an after-work IPA alone. In the east, the first dark blue shimmer of morning was already visible. Harbingers of the midnight sun in Norway. We quickly crawled into our bed, darkened the vehicle and fell asleep quickly and peacefully.

17.05.2025 From Denmark to Sweden: bridges, toll costs and arrival by camper

After a far too short night, I was woken by the barking of Andy’s Dogo Canario. Four and a half hours of sleep would have to be enough. Slowly I crawled out of the van and Andy’s wide grin greeted me. Boy, we are going to Norway. The excitement was huge. The sun was shining over the harbor and some anglers were unsuccessfully trying to catch garfish in the bay. Slowly, Anika also emerged from bed. Miriam also gave us a warm welcome and we had breakfast together standing up. We tried the homemade venison liver sausage. At around 10:00 we slowly set off. Kilometer after kilometer passed, after initial sunshine the weather changed to rain. We drove through the Swedish landscape and thick drops drummed down on our vehicle. We devoured kilometer after kilometer.

Border crossing to Sweden

The transition from Denmark to Sweden was via the bridges crossing the Belt, the Storebælt Bridge and the Øresund Bridge separated the European mainland from the Scandinavian countries. The first bridge welcomed us with a crossing fee of around €30, the second bridge cost around €63, four years earlier we had paid €13 less. When Andy drove up to the barrier, it opened without him having to pay. He simply drove through, we had to pay €63. Andy was overjoyed to have saved the €63. We had a pair of walkie-talkies with us, which we used to coordinate all the special features of the route. Now we cruised through Malmö into the Swedish countryside. Southern Sweden was a flat land interspersed with fields and red farmhouses. On both sides, the beautiful nature lined the road. Along the way, we invented a game: based on the well-known bingo, we played the following: as soon as someone spotted an animal species or something special, they shouted Bingo! Wild goose! Bingo, roe deer with high antlers, bingo, swan bingo! And so kilometer after kilometer passed. We were able to spot numerous species of animals along the road: hooded crows, blackbirds, countless roe deer, many different species of geese. The bingo game seemed endless via the radio that connected our two cars.

It made the connection between the two camper vans much more personal and easier. Several years earlier, we had called each other every few kilometers, but when there were dead zones, communication was much more difficult. The brief communication between the vehicles felt as if there were no boundaries between them. As soon as someone spotted something funny, they reported it over the radio. The famous “steck ein” also found its place in the radio communication. On the last Norway trip, I told Andy in a supermarket that he should just pocket one of the overpriced beers. The quietly whispered tone “steck ein” made us burst out laughing back then. From this, a running gag developed. In the car, someone spotted a timber transporter or a pretty Swedish woman at the roadside and immediately the magical “steck ein” was passed on over the radio. About 200 km north of the Swedish southern border, heavy rain greeted us, but it did not dampen our mood, as it would clean the cars from the remains of insects. The drive was only interrupted by short fuel stops to refill diesel for the campers. The van consumed around 9.5–10.5 liters per 100 km.

Wild camping in Sweden

As evening slowly settled over the endless spruce forests, the sun sank in the direction of travel into our eyes. Everything was colored in immeasurable gold. At the same moment, a rain shower set in. While I was still telling Anika that these were the perfect conditions for a rainbow, I looked out the window and on the right side there actually was one. The arc stretched from the left horizon to the right horizon. A magical moment between green, gold and the iridescent spectrum of colors. We had found a beautiful spot in the park4night app and turned right off the E4 highway. A gravel road led through tall spruce forests directly towards the left end of the rainbow. When we turned into the spot we had selected, two camper vans were already standing there. A small jetty extended into the lake, which was mandatory for our choice of spot. Nevertheless, the grove turned out to be a small jewel. A 20 m parking area offered enough space to park side door to side door. We got out and I immediately spotted a fireplace with a swivel grill. I asked Andy if we wanted to grill the homemade game sausages that I had thawed on it. Normally I would have expected a no, but Andy looked at me and simply said: “of course.” That was exactly why we were traveling with him and his wife – with him you could just steal horses. While the women prepared a salad, Andy and I crawled through the bushes and collected deadwood. With a small saw we had brought along, we roughly cut the wood. With some toilet paper and a few twigs from a fir tree, a fire was quickly lit. The flames rose into the sky, an icy wind fueled the fire. Soon we added larger logs and when a good bed of embers had formed, we swung the grill over the fire. I had brought game sausages of my own production (60% wild boar, 30% venison, 10% domestic pork fat). We grilled them on the rack. Together with the salad prepared by the women, the sausages tasted excellent with a bit of mustard. Andy was enthusiastic about the game sausages I had made. Andy had been hunting for several years longer than I had and had taught me endless tips and tricks, yet he was surprised by the high quality of the sausages I had produced myself. That made me a bit proud. After we had drunk a few beers with the meal and were completely smoked by the campfire, we slowly went to bed. My wife and I set the camper heating to 18°, as it was a cool 10° outside. When we crawled into bed, we quickly fell asleep, as we had not had much sleep the night before.

18.05.2025 Fishing in Sweden: First spots, missed bites and relaxed hours at the lake

In the morning it was still quite chilly, but that did not stop Andy, Miriam and me from going for a quick swim in the Swedish lake. The jump from the jetty turned out to be a dive into ice-cold, copper-colored dark water. An ice bath in the morning drives away worries, and with tingling arms and legs I staggered out of the water. Now I was awake. After a short breakfast, we set off north again. The forest vegetation became gradually denser, only interrupted by large lakes and rivers shimmering blue in the plain. After we had passed Stockholm, we continued through the wilderness. At the first one or two fishing opportunities, I made a few casts and lost my first tailspinner in the branches. At the second spot we also had no bites, standing on a rock that extended into the lake, with the Swedish sun on our faces. At a pleasant 15°, we enjoyed our lives. It didn’t matter that the fish weren’t biting.

The weather for the end of May was simply wonderful: sunshine, 12–18° and not a single cloud in the sky. On the E4 we continued further and further north, overtaking timber trucks; the one- to two-lane highway with a maximum speed of 110 km/h was a highway into the midnight sun. However, due to the fishing, we were not able to cover a great distance that day, 650 km was to be the daily goal. Around 20:00 the sun was relatively low and once again a golden sunlight shone over the Swedish trees. We decided on one last attempt at fishing and chose a lake that lay directly next to the highway and was bordered by a small country road.

Pike fishing in Sweden

Beautiful red Swedish houses stood by the lake. We stopped and walked down the embankment. While Andy assembled his rod, the tip broke, but this did not seem to bring bad luck. After only three casts, he had already caught a pike of about 55 cm, while I stood 50 m further to the right and fished unsuccessfully for the time being. Gradually I worked my way along the shore and after about 150 m I also hooked into a large pike, but just before the shore it bit through the monofilament fluorocarbon line. Another €6.50 tailspinner sank into the Swedish nothingness. No matter, quickly tied on a new lure and continued. Meanwhile Andy shouted across the Swedish landscape that he had another fish on the line. This made me even more tense and indeed another pike bit on the spinner, thanks to Andy I was able to land it safely and a beautiful 45 cm pike, with a slightly dark orange tone matching the Swedish lake water, was brought ashore. Now we had a total of three pike. Andy had caught a nice 85 cm pike. In a small weather shelter, Andy immediately filleted the fish in the evening sun, despite a stunning blow and heart stab, the fish still jumped from nerve twitching off the bench. In total, 1.5 kg of finest pike fillet were packed into bags. We then drove on for another good hour. Miriam had meanwhile found another spot on park4night. On the way to the spot, about 2 km from the highway, we also saw the first moose of the trip, the radio suddenly burst into a loud tone: Bingo moose, bingo, bingo moose. And there it stood, a huge animal right in the middle of the road. After a short filming session, the animal disappeared like a Swedish ghost back into nature. Anika was delighted, as she had never seen a wild moose before. The spot we reached immediately afterwards was an absolute stroke of luck. On a small sandy beach located on the Baltic Sea, surrounded by Swedish nature. From the car we looked out over the sea, a grill hut with neatly arranged kindling, paper, matches and large logs – everything was already prepared in the hut. That was what we loved about Sweden. Miriam prepared Aperol Spritz for us, which tasted simply wonderful in the evening sun. After discussing it with Andy, we decided to finely chop the pike fillets with the hatchet we had brought and turn them into fish patties. Refined with soy sauce and lime juice and bound with breadcrumbs and an egg, we fried the pike balls on a gas burner in front of the grill hut. I had doubts about the taste of pike, as I had only had bad experiences so far. But when I saw how the patties slowly browned in the pan and later tasted them, I had to revise my opinion. The fish tasted excellent. By finely chopping the fillets, no bones were noticeable. We also had a nice salad. With several beers, we ended the evening. Already here in the middle of Sweden, the sun would no longer fully set. Slightly tipsy, we crawled into bed full and satisfied.

19.05.2025 Outdoor shopping in Sweden: hunting store, equipment and souvenirs

In the morning I woke up with a burning thirst, the tormenting thirst after the night of drinking would not let me sleep peacefully anymore. The sun was shining strongly and warmed up the camper. Soon the temperature inside reached 23°. At 9:00 it was impossible to sleep any longer, so I climbed over Anika and out into the morning sun. The spot looked even more beautiful in the morning sun than the evening before. Andy and Miri were just setting off for a morning jog. I also tried to stay in shape and jumped a bit with the jump rope I had brought along. At first, every jump caused a stabbing headache, but with increasing physical activity it subsided. Just as I started to sweat, Andy and Miriam returned from their jog and together we went down to the water of the Baltic Sea bay. A long sandy beach led into the Baltic Sea. Andy and I stripped down and together with Miriam we ran into the water. The water was freezing cold but invigorated the senses. Energized by the cold, we then lay in the sun for a while and had breakfast. Slightly delayed, we then continued our journey. After about 250 km we stopped at a gas station and Andy and I spotted a hunting shop next to it. The shop turned out to be a real treasure trove. There was everything an angler and hunter could wish for. We browsed through all the items and I realized that I was actually already quite well equipped. But when my gaze fell on a beautiful forged hand axe, I couldn’t resist and bought it. For €70 the beautiful axe changed owner. It was a souvenir that would last a lifetime. It would always remind me of the beautiful journey through Swedish nature. We continued driving. Gradually, the tall spruce forests gave way to lower vegetation. The next destination was the Arctic Circle. At this point at 66.5 degrees latitude, the sun would no longer set from June 21 and would not rise from December 21. This was a milestone on every trip to northern Norway. Although there was a lot of trash at the Arctic Circle, the large sign with “Arctic Circle” printed in various languages made up for it. The sign was covered with stickers from football clubs all over Europe and many different funny expressions of human imagination. After taking some photos, we continued. The vegetation increasingly resembled tundra. When I told Anika after a short nap that I would now be looking out for reindeer, less than 30 seconds later the famous radio bingo came: “Reindeer, bingo, bingo reindeer.” And there they stood, the first three reindeer, beautiful animals, their antlers still in velvet. Once again, a special moment.

Border Sweden to Finland

The border to Finland was not far away and soon we crossed it. I was briefly surprised that payment was made here in euros. 

The road conditions changed. Many potholes lined the way, and the birches also gradually disappeared and gave way to short pines and firs. Over the radio, Andy and I talked in detail about bear hunting and what dream destinations we still had as hunters. A short time later, Andy reported reindeer again. Surprisingly, among them was an albino reindeer, with red eyes and white antlers it looked completely different from its gray companions. All reindeer wore collars and were partially sprayed with blue antibiotic paint. The Sami took care of the animals up here and lived from them. More and more snow appeared in large patches in the tundra and gradually took up more and more space. A landscape interspersed with moors and snow under a white sky with an endless horizon. The landscape was dotted with barren trees and bodies of water. The roads sometimes ran straight through the landscape. We spotted several capercaillie hens in the landscape. In Germany almost extinct, we saw several birds within just a few kilometers. As we drove along the arrow-straight road through the open tundra, I suddenly spotted displaying black grouse. The black males with the red combs above their eyes fought here in the midnight sun for the hens that had gathered around them. Startled by the car, they fluttered away. Frightened by our high speed, one of the hens flew away behind my car. In the rearview mirror I saw Andy’s van suddenly slow down and stop. Over the radio, Miri told me that they had apparently accidentally hit a bird. Andy got out of the vehicle and when Miriam reported over the radio that he came back with a big grin, I knew what had happened. Andy had actually hit a black grouse hen. This chicken-like bird had a beautiful plumage, alternating white and brown, and around the eye played a reddish color. We were hunters and so we decided to use the bird, and Andy skillfully cut out the breast meat of the bird with a knife and we also took one leg. Although the whole thing was of course an accident, we were still pleased about the unexpected hunting success. Few people are fortunate enough to try a piece of black grouse. Later on we saw several more males displaying on the road, approaching carefully, but (fortunately) no further accident occurred. 

20.05.2025 Lake Inari and Arctic region: landscape, cold and final stage to Norway

In the morning we were greeted by icy rain in the Finnish tundra. Inside the camper with the auxiliary heating on, there was hardly any reason to move. After turning over once or twice, we finally decided to get up slowly. After breakfast and packing everything up again, we set off towards Inari. Here we stopped at a gas station and filled up again with cheap diesel and water. Inside the station there was all kinds of outdoor survival equipment, snowshoes lay next to ice fishing gear and screws and ropes could also be purchased. I bought a large sticker for my freezer box. The sticker read in large letters: “Soumi”, with the Finnish national colors in the background. When I asked the seller whether “Soumi” was the region here, he just looked at me in confusion. Andy later explained to me that “Soumi” probably meant Finland. We both burst out laughing. Passing the famous Lake Inari, we now headed towards the Norwegian border, the lake was still completely frozen and spearfishing in the Finnish lake archipelago was therefore not possible. Shortly before the Norwegian border, we stopped once more and bought frozen reindeer meat in a bar, around 400 g cost €19. We definitely wanted to try it and stored it deep in our freezer.

Alcohol at the border to Norway

Shortly before the Norwegian border, we agreed that Andy would drive ahead to “clarify” the customs situation. He wanted to inform us via radio if there were any problems with bringing alcohol across the border. However, there were no controls at the border, it seemed deserted here in the border region between Finland and Norway and not far from the Russian border. The customs checkpoint about 1 km further on was also completely abandoned. Thus, around €30 of alcohol duty per vehicle was kindly “waived”. Shortly after the border, we stopped at a toilet in the middle of nowhere. The pit toilet was carpeted and everything was spotlessly clean, on the wall hung a picture of the Norwegian royal couple Harald V and Sonja of Norway. That’s how it should be. Would I hang a picture of Frank-Walter Steinmeier in my toilet? Now we had arrived in Norway and snow greeted us. On the way to the nearest fjord, we drove through an increasing snow shower. A rushing meltwater river that wound its way down the mountainside carried so much water that it had turned into a raging waterfall. From the bridge crossing it, the view of the enormous masses of moving water was impressive. 

We continued towards the fjord, and when we reached it, we took a short walk over the rocky landscape covered with reddish crowberries. The Barents Sea crashed with icy, rough water against the rocks. During a short lunch break with Haribo, waffles and tea, we discussed the plan for the rest of the day. We drove on and stayed overnight in the small fishing village of Jakobselv. On the beach stood the huge wooden racks on which the skrei stockfish was dried. At the moment it was not drying season and the poles stood like skeletal whale bones on the beach. Andy and I went to the pier that formed the entrance to the small harbor and first tried unsuccessfully for 30 minutes to catch the first fish.

Catching King crab with a rod

On the stones sat large king crabs at a depth of 2–3 m. We could spot them through the slightly moving water on the algae-covered rocks.

Suddenly Andy shouts: “I’VE GOT ONE.” And indeed, he had hooked a king crab with a soft plastic lure. The creature, covered all over with spines and resembling a spider, must have weighed about 1 kg. We were overjoyed; on the very first day at the fjord we had actually caught a king crab straight away. Now, as always, we were seized by hunting fever and after another two hours we had actually caught a total of five king crabs. The trick was to cast a soft plastic lure just behind the crab and to hook the crab with it. Once it was caught in the lure, you could scoop it up at the water’s edge with the landing net. Did the tackle shop seller in Mannheim suspect this when he handed me the net? There were several medium-sized ones, but also a real monster among them. When we later returned to the van, the women were amazed. The crabs were quickly processed. The legs were separated after the animal had been killed with a stab into the shell. The white blood came out of the crab. The name king crab comes from the bluish color that the blood is said to take on when it comes into contact with ice. The largest crab had legs of about 40 cm (one leg) and a carapace length of 15 cm. It weighed 1.8 kg. Steamed in hot water vapor for 10 minutes, Andy and I piled up a real mountain of crab legs.

Together with the women, we enjoyed them. With scissors, the legs were cut open lengthwise and the sweet, juicy meat was taken out. The crabs contained a lot of meat. At a price of €100–140 per kilogram, we had caught crabs worth around €400 that evening. Simply a good evening. Later we went to bed tired and satisfied, under the midnight sun, on the beach among the Norwegian drying racks. 

It felt like a dream.

21.05.2025 Drakkar Leviathan – Whale skeleton on the beach

The next morning we slept a little longer. With a view of the open sea and the somewhat grey overcast sky, we first had an extensive breakfast. For this day we had planned some sightseeing. First we went to the so-called Domen Sightpoint; here, in the middle of the Norwegian cliffs above the Barents Sea, a white boxwood construction with pink, transparent panes had been built. The blue sea in the background was reflected in the translucent panes and in the snow. In the background, the blue sea made the atmosphere perfect. We hiked around the architectural masterpiece over the ground covered with reddish lichens; everywhere, flora covered the barren rocky landscape. From there we continued to Vardø, a fishing village on an offshore island. After we had admired the overpriced prices in the Norwegian supermarket (1 kg of apples six euros). We drove to a memorial that commemorated the witch hunts in Norway in the 17th century. A burning chair and an approximately 150 m long corridor in remembrance of the supposed witches burned at the time was also an architectural gem in Norwegian nature. In the long corridor stretched on wire ropes, 91 hanging light bulbs burned for the 91 witches who were executed for a wide variety of reasons in the 17th century. From there we continued to the Drakkar Leviathan, a large whale skeleton made of hewn wood that was reminiscent of a Nordic-Arctic legend. We walked through the wooden whale skeleton with a view of the fjord. As our destination for the day we had set Hamningberg, the official end of the fjord and the end of the road. This was an alternative North Cape, an absolute end of the world. On the way there we drove through snowfields that led past the ocean. Jagged rock peaks and wide, impressive scree fields lined the road. The landscape was indescribable; one understood where the Norwegian saga figures, in the form of trolls and fairies, had originated. 

Arriving in the small town, we tried unsuccessfully to do another little fishing round. The water seemed too cold for fish and the fjord overall too shallow. 

Arriving at the pitch for the night under the midnight sun, Andy and I grabbed ourselves a nice Früh Kölsch from a can and went out into the tundra. There we practiced in the competition “stacking stones,” whoever could build the higher stone tower should be the winner. When we had both built a stone tower of about 1.5 m, I immediately entered our little “stone garden” on Google Maps as a sculpture garden. 

After a small dinner we crawled back into bed at the unofficial end of the world.

22.05.2025 Spearfishing Drakar Leviathan, soft ice cream and Leseby

The next morning we were greeted by a slightly overcast sky; after an extensive morning doze and a light breakfast we set the North Cape as our next destination. Over the course of the morning the sun tore a hole in the cloud cover and by midday the grey curtain of clouds completely tore open. At a short fuel stop I spotted a police patrol enjoying a soft ice cream in the sun. As a result I couldn’t help myself and also bought myself a soft ice cream at the petrol station with strawberries and hazelnut decoration. 

The vanilla ice cream tasted excellent in the sun. Miriam looked enviously at my ice cream and immediately ran into the petrol station to treat herself to an ice cream as well. 

As a small midday destination we had once again chosen the Drakar Leviathan; here we wanted to go for a little round of spearfishing. After Andy and I, as always, had laboriously thrown ourselves into the spearfishing clothes, we plunged into the water. The water was crystal clear and 4.2 °C cold. We swam several large rounds through the wind-sheltered side of the bay, but any fish life remained absent. I was still able to loosen a few palm-sized mussels from the bottom, which are supposed to serve as dinner. 

From there we continued towards the entrance of the fjord; unfortunately a small stop to catch a few more king crabs remained unsuccessful. 

We finally continued driving, and in dazzling sunshine we went over three more fjords towards the North Cape. 

On a large plateau that was completely covered with snow, we spotted a herd of reindeer that trudged leisurely through the snow; the lead animal watched its calves, like a dream the view of the completely snow-covered landscape. A small light blue icy lake in the background made the scenery seem unreal. Here nature could still be nature. Impressed by this beautiful encounter, we discovered one reindeer after another. 

Around 21:00 we started looking for a place to sleep. On the Leseby peninsula we found a beautiful pitch for the night: a rotten wooden jetty that protruded into the fjord complemented the beautiful place at an old, abandoned slate quarry. In the evening we spotted a king crab that was working through the algae under the jetty. Under these signs I decided to get into the water early the next morning to try a little crab hunt. 

The sleeping place was surrounded by an old slate quarry, and the black fine, glittering slate slabs lay scattered to the right and left of the jetty. A beautiful backdrop to spend the evening. When a crab-catching boat docked at the fjord tip late in the evening to unload its cargo, it made the backdrop perfect. Tired, we crawled into bed after Andy had laid out his surf rod.

23.05.2025 Off to the North Cape, king crabs, reindeer shed antlers and overnight at the North Cape

I had set my alarm early; the evening before we had indeed seen a king crab walking around right next to the jetty. At 8:30 I got up and put on my spearfishing suit. It was dazzling sunshine, a little wind, as I stepped into the icy cold and crystal clear water. When I had gone into the water, Andy at the same time pulled in the rod that he had laid out the evening before. And indeed a king crab had gotten tangled in the line.

King crabs from the crystal clear sea in the morning sun

The water was crystal clear, but at the surface there was a thermocline measuring about 1 m; it was as if you were dipping into thick glue. If you dove deeper, however, you could see at least 10–15 m. And indeed after 500–600 m of swimming I spotted a king crab at about 8 m depth. It sat on the rock between some sea grasses. Since I wasn’t sure whether you could grab the crab well, I shot it with the harpoon and pulled the large animal up. A real cheer. The spiky monster landed on my float. But maneuvering the crab into a mesh bag proved to be a difficult task: the spikes got caught in every mesh. A short time later I discovered a second crab and invited this one too to “come ashore.” Back at the jetty, I presented my catch. 

Quickly steamed and cooled in the snow, the crabs that had come ashore quickly disappeared into the depths of the freezer box in the camper.

The slate slabs lying around were a great trophy plate, and so Andy and I walked up and down the beach and several kilograms of slate rock joined the travel luggage.

Collecting reindeer shed antlers

After we had dozed a bit in our Helinox chairs in the sun, we finally continued towards the North Cape.

On the way to the North Cape we passed endless, white, snow-covered plains, interrupted only by reddish vegetated patches. Behind every bend a new, magnificent panorama appeared. The eyes couldn’t get enough; with every kilometer the inner joy grew. It was indescribably beautiful. Crystal clear meltwater streams, deep dark black, wound through the landscape. Endless herds of reindeer stood in the endless vastness. 

It was ideal to look for reindeer shed antlers from the road, and in fact 30–40 km before the North Cape Andy suddenly stopped, jumped out of the camper and ran into the landscape. Triumphantly he came back with a reindeer antler held aloft in his raised fist. Electrified by this find, our travel speed reduced by several km/h and our gaze constantly swept through the landscape. It was not to be the last shed antler on that day. In total we were able to collect five reindeer antlers that day, a special souvenir shortly before the North Cape. 

Off to the North Cape – overnight at the North Cape in the camper

The last kilometers to the North Cape it went steadily uphill. Shortly before the last bend to the North Cape Andy radioed the following: “you won’t believe it.” 

When we rounded the bend, we saw what he meant: at least 50–100 campers, motorhomes and explorers were standing in the parking lot next to the North Cape.

After some maneuvering in the parking lot we found a spot where we could stand one behind the other with our travel companions. The parking lot was full of independent travelers who had also set the North Cape as a major goal. After the German “Camper Ute” complained that she couldn’t drive out, but then left the spot three minutes later, the mood lifted again. 

We set off for our first walk to the North Cape globe. There it was: the globe that marks the northernmost point in Europe that can be reached by car. The globe gleamed black in the sun; an employee of the North Cape halls was in the process of removing the countless stickers that had been attached to the sculpture. With a black spray can the monument was repainted. 

Kindly, he stepped aside briefly so that we could take our obligatory photo. From the platform, 300 m above the sea, you had a view over the Arctic Barents Sea, which reflected yellow-golden in the sun. An icy wind whistled over the rocky plateau. A long but wonderful path had led us up here, lined with one beautiful panorama after another; the nature up here was indescribable. From many people you heard in advance that the North Cape is not impressive; I, however, walked with immense joy in my heart across the plateau. Above us the shining midnight sun in a crystal-clear sky, surrounded by small and large adventurers, my beloved wife and good friends—what more could you want? Afterwards we grabbed our Helinox chairs, set up a makeshift camp at the edge of the plateau and enjoyed brought-along deer jerky and drinks in the midnight sun. Wrapped up thickly in warm jackets we enjoyed simply “being.” 

In the evening we had planned a feast dinner. As an appetizer there were deer liver sausage sandwiches and deer jerky from the home game kitchen.  As primi piatti: the reindeer bought in Finland, secondi piatti: self-caught king crabs fried in chorizo and the resulting red oil. As a vitamin boost Andy prepared a vegetable bowl that was second to none. 

As a crowning finale there was the unfortunate capercaillie hen that in Finland absolutely wanted to hitchhike along. 

A wild feast, everything tasted excellent. 

The second walk to the sphere at 1:30 was in even higher spirits due to the drinks. The sun was still shining golden over the plateau and since there was nothing going on at the monument, Andy and I climbed up into the sphere on the spur of the moment. The view was breathtaking—from this world-famous monument out into the vastness of the world.

It made for a grandiose picture, and the alcohol evaporated a little through the climbing action. Quite drunk we later staggered into bed.

24.5.2025 North Cape experiences: weather, hike and costs at a glance

The next morning I woke up with a proper hangover; I hadn’t slept well. Somewhat wrecked, I did a morning round over the campsite at the North Cape. After a short breakfast we decided against visiting the North Cape halls for 35 € per person. The evening before I had picked up a quartz stone from the North Cape plateau; that was souvenir enough for me. At least a third of the campers had already left the plateau. The wind was whipping the clouds over the access road. White shreds of cloud drifted past like ghostly curtains. We set off to see whether we could walk the KniftsKnollenweg in order to hike to the northernmost (officially geographical) point of Norway. But this was not possible due to the high snow conditions. As soon as you stepped onto the snow, you sank in at least 1/2 m. On the way from the North Cape to Henningsvaer there was on the right side a wooden sales stall of a Sami. Andy stopped and radioed me that he would like to look for a knife. Meanwhile we rolled on and stopped a few kilometers down the hill in a beautiful valley. After I had shaved extensively in the sun, Andy drove up with his camper and showed me what he had bought: a beautiful and large hunting knife made of carbon steel, with a handle of reindeer antler and intertwined birch. After Andy briefly convinced me that this was a hunting knife for life, we too turned the car around and drove back once more to the small sales stall by the roadside. After an extensive consultation by the Sami (he was a reindeer herd leader) I also bought a hunting knife; converted it cost 86 €. A small reindeer antler pendant was included for free. From there we briefly went via a supermarket, where we could admire the local super prices, and another unsuccessful fishing trip to the pier in Henningsvaer. We got into a conversation with a Polish emigrant. He had lived for 20 years in a house at the harbor. When we mentioned to him that we caught nothing, he explained to us that it was due to the freshwater that flowed from the surrounding mountains into the fjords. The fish could not tolerate the freshwater well and would retreat into deeper regions. Thus we had a logical explanation; on Google we found no such good explanations that gave an excuse for the fact that we had so far not caught a single fish despite numerous fishing stops. 

When we rounded the bend, we saw what he meant: at least 50–100 campers, motorhomes and explorers were standing in the parking lot next to the North Cape.

After some maneuvering in the parking lot we found a spot where we could stand one behind the other with our travel companions. The parking lot was full of independent travelers who had also set the North Cape as a major goal. After the German “Camper Ute” complained that she couldn’t drive out, but then left the spot three minutes later, the mood lifted again. 

We set off for our first walk to the North Cape globe. There it was: the globe that marks the northernmost point in Europe that can be reached by car. The globe gleamed black in the sun; an employee of the North Cape halls was in the process of removing the countless stickers that had been attached to the sculpture. With a black spray can the monument was repainted. 

Kindly, he stepped aside briefly so that we could take our obligatory photo. From the platform, 300 m above the sea, you had a view over the Arctic Barents Sea, which reflected yellow-golden in the sun. An icy wind whistled over the rocky plateau. A long but wonderful path had led us up here, lined with one beautiful panorama after another; the nature up here was indescribable. From many people you heard in advance that the North Cape is not impressive; I, however, walked with immense joy in my heart across the plateau. Above us the shining midnight sun in a crystal-clear sky, surrounded by small and large adventurers, my beloved wife and good friends—what more could you want? Afterwards we grabbed our Helinox chairs, set up a makeshift camp at the edge of the plateau and enjoyed brought-along deer jerky and drinks in the midnight sun. Wrapped up thickly in warm jackets we enjoyed simply “being.” 

In the evening we had planned a feast dinner. As an appetizer there were deer liver sausage sandwiches and deer jerky from the home game kitchen.  As primi piatti: the reindeer bought in Finland, secondi piatti: self-caught king crabs fried in chorizo and the resulting red oil. As a vitamin boost Andy prepared a vegetable bowl that was second to none. 

As a crowning finale there was the unfortunate capercaillie hen that in Finland absolutely wanted to hitchhike along. 

A wild feast, everything tasted excellent. 

The second walk to the sphere at 1:30 was in even higher spirits due to the drinks. The sun was still shining golden over the plateau and since there was nothing going on at the monument, Andy and I climbed up into the sphere on the spur of the moment. The view was breathtaking—from this world-famous monument out into the vastness of the world.

It made for a grandiose picture, and the alcohol evaporated a little through the climbing action. Quite drunk we later staggered into bed.

24.5.2025 North Cape experiences: weather, hike and costs at a glance

The next morning I woke up with a proper hangover; I hadn’t slept well. Somewhat wrecked, I did a morning round over the campsite at the North Cape. After a short breakfast we decided against visiting the North Cape halls for 35 € per person. The evening before I had picked up a quartz stone from the North Cape plateau; that was souvenir enough for me. At least a third of the campers had already left the plateau. The wind was whipping the clouds over the access road. White shreds of cloud drifted past like ghostly curtains. We set off to see whether we could walk the KniftsKnollenweg in order to hike to the northernmost (officially geographical) point of Norway. But this was not possible due to the high snow conditions. As soon as you stepped onto the snow, you sank in at least 1/2 m. On the way from the North Cape to Henningsvaer there was on the right side a wooden sales stall of a Sami. Andy stopped and radioed me that he would like to look for a knife. Meanwhile we rolled on and stopped a few kilometers down the hill in a beautiful valley. After I had shaved extensively in the sun, Andy drove up with his camper and showed me what he had bought: a beautiful and large hunting knife made of carbon steel, with a handle of reindeer antler and intertwined birch. After Andy briefly convinced me that this was a hunting knife for life, we too turned the car around and drove back once more to the small sales stall by the roadside. After an extensive consultation by the Sami (he was a reindeer herd leader) I also bought a hunting knife; converted it cost 86 €. A small reindeer antler pendant was included for free. From there we briefly went via a supermarket, where we could admire the local super prices, and another unsuccessful fishing trip to the pier in Henningsvaer. We got into a conversation with a Polish emigrant. He had lived for 20 years in a house at the harbor. When we mentioned to him that we caught nothing, he explained to us that it was due to the freshwater that flowed from the surrounding mountains into the fjords. The fish could not tolerate the freshwater well and would retreat into deeper regions. Thus we had a logical explanation; on Google we found no such good explanations that gave an excuse for the fact that we had so far not caught a single fish despite numerous fishing stops. 

Spearfishing king crabs

Further south it will probably get better. He had also recommended a bay in which halibut could supposedly be caught; we set this as the next destination in our Google Maps navigation system. When we arrived at the spot, we already saw two spearfishers in the water from the road. With the binoculars we saw that they had numerous king crabs lying on the spearfishing float. In no time we had changed and went into the water. After just 10 m I spotted the first king crab and another and another. I collected them and whistled to Andy in the water. He too already had a king crab in his hand. As we kept swimming, we realized that the entire bay was full of crabs. Every 3 m one crab sat after the other. Under rocks, often 20 crabs were huddled together. An unimaginable amount of huge sea monsters. We only collected the largest crabs; with a stab into the head it was quickly over for them. After just half an hour we had each seen at least 300–400 and only taken the best. We swam back to land and presented our catch to our women. A camping gas stove was quickly set up, and Andy removed from a total of nine crabs 72 legs and claws. In at least 7–8 cooking cycles I cooked the claws and legs until done. After already 5–6 minutes in the hot water vapor they turned red and were cooked. On the slate slabs of the bay we let the legs cool down. When everything was packed and ready for transport in a shopping bag, I weighed the legs and we had caught a total of 9.8 kg of pure crab legs. At a price of 80 to 140 € per kg, we had probably made a catch worth 1000 € that day. Unbelievable how many crabs must live in a fjord if in a small bay of 500 m 10 to 100 thousand animals lived. The largest crab we caught weighed 2.43 kg.

When we looked at the clock for the first time after the dive, it was already 21:20; in the never-ending brightness we had completely lost track of the time. On the way to the sleeping place Andy stopped again in the middle of the tundra; he ran into the landscape and suddenly held a huge shed antler into the air. The antler was decorated with several shovels and an incredible find. At least 75 cm in length. We only drove a few kilometers further to a free rest area with beautiful tables in a small bay. After dinner (there was freshly fried wild boar, of course king crab legs and king crab roe on bread) we fell into bed. 

On this day I had completely drained my batteries.

25.05.2025 On towards Hammerfest: between ice water and soft ice cream

In the morning we slept in a bit and after breakfast walked down to the sea. Here a crystal-clear meltwater stream poured into a gravel pool; the 2 m deep gravel bottom shimmered in the bluish water. We jumped in and washed ourselves in the ice-cold water. Refreshed by the invigorating water, we drove after breakfast to the next fjord; in the town of Hammerfest we made a short stop to refill our fresh water supplies and Miriam’s and my soft ice cream level. We continued to a small bay on the other side of the island. There we took it easy. Anika and I dozed for two hours in the sun while Andy and Miriam did a small hike. When Andy returned from the nearby house, where he had asked whether it was okay that we stayed overnight in front of the door, he came back with five bottles of home-brewed beer from the house owner. The Norwegians were simply too hospitable. For dinner I breaded the halibut, which turned out to be cod. Nevertheless, it tasted excellent. Full and satisfied we went to bed once again.

26.05.2025 Spearfishing in the Altafjord: hunting for the halibut

After I had shamefully left Andy sitting at the morning spearfishing appointment, the morning went very leisurely. In the morning sun we forged the plan for the day: refuel the car, buy groceries and after a short stop at the sights of Hammerfest and the obligatory visit to the hunting and fishing shop we continued towards the Alta Fjord. At a bay that seemed suitable to us, Andy and I went back into the water with the harpoon. After we had swum 600 m, Andy suddenly swam towards me excitedly and reported that he had seen a halibut about 1.5 m long. Big as a tabletop. While he was still positioning himself for the perfect and above all safe shot, the fish moved into deeper water: chance missed, that’s just how it is. Driven by this brief experience, we swam through the entire bay. However, no further fish appeared. The water was 5.5° C and unfortunately no other fish were in sight. After a short warming phase we drove on to the other side of the fjord. At a rock embankment with a parking opportunity we stopped to camp here for the night. Andy and I immediately cast the rods into the water. And indeed, relatively quickly Andy first caught a cod and later a haddock of about 45 cm. 

Finally the first fish, there it was. 

After we ate the delicious dinner that our women had prepared, Andy and I fished late into the night. By 2:30 we had caught a total of three cod, a large plaice and the aforementioned haddock. Quite drunk we still filleted the fish by the water. In the process one of the fish slipped into the water, and I dived after it; in doing so I ended up arm-deep in the water between the stones of the rock embankment, and my jacket was soaked with the icy water. After the fish had been washed clean, we happily went to bed.

27.5.2025 Wolfish with the surf rod and whale sausage in the afternoon

We had left the surf rods in the water overnight and during the somewhat restless sleep repeatedly listened for whether the eel bell rang. In the morning I first went out in long underwear and T-shirt into the morning sunshine to check the rod. When I reeled it in there was indeed good pressure on the tip. Shortly before the shore I already saw it in the clear water: I had caught a wolffish; these martial-looking animals are known for their biting power. The 1.2 kg heavy and 49 cm long fish immediately bit through a stick that I wedged into its mouth. The stone-grey skin shone in the morning sun; the day could start like this. We quickly filleted the wolffish before moving on to the next item on the agenda.

Canyon Alta Fjord

We wanted to take a look at the largest canyon in Northern Europe near the Alta Fjord. When we arrived at the parking lot for the trail, the path was closed. There were still 4 km to the starting point of the hike via a gravel road. Nevertheless, we set off for a small hike and walked through the pine groves. It steadily went uphill, and the pines in turn transitioned into a winter landscape. The path was full of snow drifts into which one sometimes sank knee-deep. When we could no longer go on, we took a break at the official starting point of the hike. The tundra-like landscape stretched to the horizon. Andy had bought minke whale sausage in a supermarket, which we now tried. The whale sausage tasted slightly like incense. Thus we both now also crossed eating whale off our bucket list. Later we did another round of spearfishing in a beautiful bay. Unfortunately there were no fish to be seen here either. We swam a total of 3 km in 2 hours in 5° C cold water. This burns calories endlessly. After that I could no longer tighten my belt any further; I was already on the last hole. This is active vacation at its finest. Towards evening we drove to a nice small pitch at a church on a side arm of the fjord. After we had sunk the surf rod back into the depths, we prepared cod in beer batter. In the cold wind, however, the gas cartridge of the small burner cooled down so much that only a regular cartridge change kept the oil at temperature. The dinner tasted excellent; we had fought hard for the first fish we caught.

29.05.2025 Fishing in Øksfjord

In the morning we first reeled in the fishing rod again that we had set out at night, and indeed, there was another cod hanging on the set rod. Shortly afterwards the red shrimp (Arctic shrimp) were cast out again. We spent the morning in the dazzling morning sun. Shortly afterwards the bell on the fishing rod rang again and again a nice fifty-centimeter cod bit. After we had filleted the two cod and dozed in the sun until around 14:00, we set off to the nearby Øksfjord; since the big catch had so far not materialized, Andy and I tried unsuccessfully during the course of the day to organize a boat. All offers were booked out until 2027. Some fishing boat providers called for fantasy prices of 500 € per day. In a small town in Øksfjord we talked to a local fishing tour provider. He recommended a Dutchman who supposedly had a boat, but he too left us in the lurch after checking the boat. We found a nice spot where a steep edge led down into the fjord. After we had tried in vain to catch cod again in the depths, Andy prepared us another grandiose dinner from the remaining wild boar leg. Garnished with plenty of home-grown chili, it tasted excellent. 

The almost sunset at the end of the fjord, with the snow-covered peaks in the background and the surrounding mountains, was magical. When we were already lying in bed, suddenly cowbell-like sounds sounded next to our camper. When we lifted the blinds of the windows, we looked at a small herd of reindeer peacefully grazing 2 m next to our car. An experience just before falling asleep that illustrated the immense nature of Norway.

29.05.2025 Finding good fishing spots in Norway from the shore – tips and tricks – shore fishing

The next morning we slept in a bit and after we had made the plan for the day, we set off; slowly we had to think about splitting our further travel routes. Andy and Miriam had one week more vacation than we did, and so we planned how we would drive home via the Lofoten. As our evening destination we set a small ferry town (Olderdalen) in the Kåfjord. Around 19:00 we passed a pier that was located at a factory. While Anika was driving, I constantly checked Google Maps and the depths on the sea charts of the fjord. Taken together, this gives quite good information on where fish could be expected. So I quickly told Andy that we wanted to make a short stop at the pier to make a few casts with the rod. When we stopped just behind the factory, a nasty smell greeted us; but when we walked past the factory, the sunshine on the pier dazzled us. We looked into the water and in the rock embankment of the pier there were endless amounts of small baitfish. They were small coalfish that were seeking shelter in the stones. Hastily we cast the first soft plastic lures into the blue water. On the very first cast there was a good bite. Finally, a good bite on the spinning rod. Reeled up over the rock embankment, a keeper-sized cod saw the air. Driven by this first catch we cast again and immediately the next bite hammered in. On the braided line it was incredibly fun. After we had reeled in the first five cod, it just kept going. After a good 60 minutes we had caught 13 cod up to 75 cm and 3 kg. Finally a good catch. The cod shone in the sun. Altogether it was certainly more than 15 kg of fish. After we had taken a few break-offs with soft lure loss and the bites decreased with the outgoing tide, we called it a day. Quickly filleted, we had certainly 5–6 kg of fillet together. Once again it was already 21:15 and we quickly set off in search of the next sleeping place. Behind a church painted in classic red we found a nice rest area. The cod were vacuum-sealed with the vacuum sealer we had brought along. A proper load of fish disappeared into our freezer. After the obligatory fish dinner we once again crawled into our beds after a day full of surprises. We had driven at least 300 km south from the North Cape before the first fish bit on a spinning rod. We ourselves were surprised how much influence the cold mountain meltwater had on the fish; now, however, this seemed to have come to an end.

30.05.2025 Spearfishing on Sommerøy

The next morning we got up early to drive to the beautiful island of Sommerøy. At 8:00 we set off and after just 40 km Andy spotted in the water along a cliff a huge flock of gulls repeatedly breaking through the water surface. We immediately braked and stopped at the next lay-by. In no time we tore the rods out of the camper and stumbled like stung by a tarantula down the rock embankment to the water surface. The water was boiling. An endless school of coalfish was chasing shrimp that were right at our feet. Everywhere it splashed and sprayed. After just a few casts the first coalfish were landed. They were true fighting machines, a massive, streamlined body and a powerful tail that can accelerate the fish at lightning speed. After 45 minutes we had caught 8 coalfish. When we later gutted the beautiful fish and opened the stomach, a flood of fresh, glassy red, small shrimp poured out of the belly. This fish was not comparable with farmed fish that you can buy in supermarkets. This fish had fed on the freshest shrimp and grown with them. This fish had undergone no medical treatment whatsoever. This is healthy food. After about 4 kg of fillet had been stored, we continued. 

Sommorøy

After 2 hours of driving we reached the island of Sommorøy. A star-shaped island surrounded by white sandy beaches. The turquoise-blue water made the Caribbean atmosphere perfect. Cute small and very well-kept red houses stood on the island. We drove to a campsite attracted by the sign: “no Dogs, no Kids, just silence”. After some negotiation with the owner, Andy was allowed to take his dog in the car. The overnight stay cost 20 €, but it was worth it; from the campsite, where only three vehicles were parked, you looked into the turquoise-blue bay. After we had rested a bit, Andy and I prepared for one last round of spearfishing together. We plowed about 2 km through the water. However, no fish were to be seen. Well, you don’t always have luck. But I was sure that Andy would shoot a halibut later in the vacation. In the evening, for the last time together, we prepared the coalfish breaded in flour; with it we had tortilla: a worthy final meal rounded off by 1.2 sips of good whisky. We burst out laughing when I returned from the toilet and could not recognize Andy in his Fjell Raven camouflage jacket in front of the rock. We then had fun hiding in the rock wall. Miriam took a photo and indeed Andy in his stone camouflage and I in my green hoodie completely blended in with the surroundings. The next morning we wanted to separate; Andy and Miriam still had one week more vacation than we did and we set off on the way to the Lofoten.

31.05.2025 Catching cod in Norway from the shore

In the morning we said goodbye to Andy and Miri; we had spent 2 wonderful weeks with them. They were the ideal travel companions, always uncomplicated, in a good mood and up for any fun; everyone complemented each other perfectly. At 8:45 we caught the ferry to Senja. On the ferry we dozed a bit. We were not early risers. The island of Senja was the second largest island in Norway and was known for its Lofoten-like shape, but in contrast to the Lofoten not overly crowded. Large dark mountain peaks towered up. Slowly the morning grey turned into sunshine. We crossed Senja from northeast to southwest. 

We stopped briefly at a troll park, but everything was still closed. We decided against the ferry crossing at Gryllefjord to Andenes, as this ferry only ran twice a day. 

We continued by land towards the Lofoten. At a salmon farm (these were common in the fjords: circular black pontoons covered with green nets. Here Atlantic salmon were farmed, ready for the journey to European supermarkets) I, as always, looked into the deep blue, crystal clear fjord water; it dropped off steeply, that looked good. Anika, stop! At the next lay-by my wife braked without complaining; she also liked to eat fish. I immediately stumbled down the slope and cast: immediately a strong bite, shortly afterwards I reeled up a 60 cm cod, then another and another. I offered Anika to try it as well, and after a lightning-fast introduction to fishing a 40 cm cod was wriggling on the steel leader in her hand. She was visibly proud and so was I. Simply an amazing woman! She went along with everything and I didn’t hear the sentence: you have fished enough today, not even once.

We continued over the Narvik Fjord (this is where the Germans unsuccessfully expected the invasion from 1943–1945) to the first islands in front of the Lofoten. We searched on Park4Night for a good campsite and could already anticipate how many motorhomes would make their way across the Lofoten. After some searching, however, we found a beautiful spot at a river mouth. Another camper was also on the parking area. When I set off to collect firewood, he generously offered me his finest, perfectly chopped birch wood that he had brought along. With it, Anika and I lit a fire, and while we warmed ourselves, the Norwegian even brought us two small bottles of Underberg schnapps. So far, we had only experienced kindness from the Norwegians. Slightly smoked, we went to bed.

01.06.2025 Stockfish Lofoten

The next morning, after waking up, I hit my head so hard on an edge of the camper that it started bleeding heavily. A moderate start to the Lofoten. First we went to Svolvær, a small harbor town; here we enjoyed the local Lofoten stockfish and a fish soup in the restaurant Bacalao. It tasted excellent. In front of the town stood the huge drying racks for the dried fish. Here the skrei was dried in the fresh sea air, which was caught from January to March. There were two types of racks: those for the body of the fish and those for the heads. The bodies were intended for the European market (mainly Norway and Portugal), while the heads were exported to the African market. In Nigeria in particular, fish soup was made from them. The racks, arranged in a triangular shape, carried hundreds of tons of fish. A light smell of fish hung in the air, not unpleasant. We walked between the racks and took a few good photos.

We continued to Henningsvær. The town was known for the artificial turf football field located on an offshore island. A great scenery. The fishing village also had a lot to offer, beautiful small shops between red houses. 

In the evening we cooked some king crab legs. They had to make space in the freezer for the fish we had caught. Pure luxury—having to prepare 100€/kg crab legs just to make room for fresh fish fillets. That is Norway.

02.06.2025 Reinebringen Lofoten – hike with a view

After I carefully got out of bed in the morning so as not to hit my head again, light rain pattered onto the camper. Today the Reinebringen trail and Å i Lofoten were on the agenda. On the way to Reinebringen, we stopped briefly at a rock edge and I reeled in another four medium-sized cod; the short 40–60 g red metal jigs with a treble hook at the end were ideal. A metal leader prevented the braided line from rubbing against the rocks. Around 14:30 we reached the parking lot behind Reinebringen. Many campers were already there, behind the tunnel that leads from Reine towards Å. After putting on our hiking boots, we set off in light drizzle towards the trailhead. Now it was about 2000 steps and 448 m uphill. Built from granite steps with a step height of 20–40 cm, the path led steeply uphill through the Norwegian spring. The pulse rose considerably; for untrained people or those with a fear of heights, this path was certainly not suitable. The view from the summit over the town of Reine made up for the effort. You looked out over the vast island world of the Lofoten. The panorama was the most photographed view of the Lofoten. It was the flagship—and rightly so. It went steeply down along the ridge; one wrong step at the rainy and slightly muddy summit and it would have been over. When Anika pulled out a pack of crispbread, it reminded me of Lord of the Rings, when Samwise Gamgee and Frodo ate their lembas bread. After the lembas had strengthened us (one bite can fill the stomach of a grown man) and we filmed a few funny videos, we went downhill. The stairs of Cirith Ungol. At the end of the trail, we had slightly shaky legs. Soaked but happy, we looked forward to our camper. We smelled like wet dogs.

In Reine, the two hobbits had a second lunch shortly before dinner. At Anita’s Seafood Bar we enjoyed a fish sandwich with fresh shrimp, cod fish cake, and Norwegian salmon. To try, there was smoked whale; it tasted somewhat fishy, but not unpleasant. Rounded off with a Lofoten pils—a good refreshment.

Orcas in Å i Lofoten

At 19:00 we went for an evening walk through Å i Lofoten (Å means “the end” in Norwegian). A small village lined with red fishermen’s houses, with gulls nesting on the roofs. At the end of the pier stood a couple looking through binoculars into the Narvik Fjord. And indeed: about two kilometers away, a group of orcas was hunting. Although it was far away, you could repeatedly see the black dorsal fins, the black-and-white heads, and the blow rising from the sea. There must have been at least 4–5 hunting whales. Gulls plunged into the water around them like arrows. They had certainly found a good shoal of herring. 

Another small moment of happiness here in Å. After watching the whales hunt for 20 minutes, we continued strolling. Some fishing operators had their piers with boats in the harbor. A Dutch fishing group was just landing its catch. The tar-covered figures in flotation suits carried crates full of fish ashore (including a 10 kg cod with a head the size of a German shepherd and a 1 m halibut). While filleting, they only cut out the best fillets, and a large amount of waste ended up in buckets, which made me sad. Natural resources belong to everyone, but they should be treated with respect. It was behavior I did not understand; Andy and I tried to value the natural resources we were given accordingly. But karma will take care of it.

We spent the night in the parking lot in front of Reinebringen. The small island jutted out into the rough sea. At 21:30 I climbed over the rocks down to the water and fished in the foaming surf. A good cod bent open the swivel of the steel leader right in front of my feet. Shortly after, another bite—a 1.5 kg coalfish—and at 22:30 a 2.5 kg pollack. Landing them on the slippery and steep rocks was not easy, but it worked thanks to the landing net. A great catch. After a quick filleting session, we had lentil soup shortly before midnight, which Anika had prepared. The next morning we would take the ferry from Moskenes to Bodø back to the mainland. On the advice of locals, we had booked the ferry online. It worked without any problems: for 2 passengers and a camper up to 6.00 m, it cost 74€. A fair price considering the land route would have been about 600 km.

03.06.2025 Saltstraumen – strongest tidal current in the world

The next morning we headed to the ferry terminal in Moskenes; boarding went smoothly. The large ferry opened its bow and we drove into the belly of the steel giant. On the upper deck we watched the Lofoten slowly getting smaller. When we reached the open sea, we took seats in the lounge areas. After a small hot dog lunch snack, we rested during the 3.5-hour crossing. The ferry plowed through the waves and began to sway considerably. Shortly before Bodø, it calmed down again.

Sauna Fauna in Bodø

The hazy and cold weather made me feel a bit chilly, so I typed “sauna” into Google Maps. And indeed, next to the harbor of Bodø there was the sauna “Sauna Fauna,” at 16€/90 min finally a reasonable price (in Norway, prices of 200€/60 min were not uncommon). At 15:00 the sauna master, wearing khaki overalls, let us in. The wood-fired saunas were wonderfully warm. You could look out of the window onto the Narvik Fjord. The wooden sauna and a small terrace extended over the rocks into the sea. To cool off, you could step into the 8-degree, petrol-colored seawater, which we did immediately. After three rounds of sauna, we set off refreshed towards Saltstraumen. Here we wanted to visit the strongest tidal current in the world.

Watching Saltstraumen from the Saltstraumen bridge

30 km from Bodø, we stopped under the bridge that spans the strait. From the Saltstraumen bridge you had a magnificent view of the raging currents. The water rushed under the bridge at incredible speed, swirling wildly. Small whirlpools formed everywhere, and tourist RIB boats bobbed happily in the water. A short fishing attempt in the deep water only resulted in another snag. We continued on, as we still wanted to cross the border into Sweden that day. An unplanned stop at a tunnel crossing gave us the opportunity to prepare the king crab buns for the evening. At the border crossing Junkerdal, all gates were closed at 22:30. Shortly after the border, we crossed the Arctic Circle for the second time, exactly where Wladek and I had eaten ice cream, cooked scrambled eggs, and enjoyed Schöfferhofer wheat beer three years earlier. We stopped for the night at a lake on a polar plateau. Absolute silence greeted our van. The midnight sun shone one last time for us. The king crab buns (king crab, white cabbage, pickles, celery, mayo, lime, chili, salt, and pepper) tasted excellent. We mentally said goodbye to the Norwegian wonderland, which had offered a new surprise every time. This time it had been fjords full of huge, spiky king crabs—we had not expected that either. Exhausted from the long day of driving and the ferry trip, we went to bed.

04.06.2025 Blueberries in Sweden

In the morning we got up early and set off towards home. On this day we wanted to cover a lot of distance and we enjoyed the last kilometers through the Swedish nature. Changeable Swedish weather, sometimes sun, sometimes rain, showed how quickly it could change between gloomy and beautiful. In sunshine the trees gleamed in all shades of green, in rain everything turned into a monotonous grey-green. After 800 km of distance that day and a short stop to buy frozen blueberries, we stopped at a Swedish lake 200 km before Stockholm. Covering long distances was the price you had to pay to get so far north.

05.06.2025 Park4Night Denmark

During the night we both woke up; a heavy rain shower hit our vehicle, the loud pattering was a soothing background noise and I sank back into dreamland. Another day full of driving did not offer much variety. In Stockholm we got stuck in the second traffic jam of the trip (as already mentioned, the first was near Bremen). After we had crossed the Storebælt Bridge, we entered Denmark again. On the island of Fyn we once again searched on Park4Night for a place to sleep. We found a great overnight spot in a tree-covered, dark green forest basin; surrounded by trees we experienced real darkness again for the first time. The evening birdsong and a short dinner let us sleep peacefully. We had covered 980 km that day. 

06.06.2025 Spearfishing in Denmark

In the morning we continued; we had planned to make another stop in Alsen in southern Denmark. We drove the 280 km to Alsen through heavy rain. In Windfinder and RainRadar I studied the water conditions that would await us. At the first spot a strong surf awaited us, so we spontaneously decided to drive to the lee side of the island. That was the advantage of a round island: there is always a calm, wind-protected side for spearfishing. The weather cleared up and the sun appeared. In the water I had a visibility of a good 3–4 m: sufficient! After some distance I was able to land the first flounder. The start was made. From then on it went one after another, and after a good 2 hours of diving, 8 flounders and 2 plaice were on the stringer. The water had a pleasant 11 degrees, but after 2 hours I was still properly cold. Out of the water the fish were quickly gutted and vacuum-sealed.

07.06.2025 Holsten Therme Kaltenkirchen

The next morning we slept in and had a relaxed morning at the beach. We had breakfast in the sun and enjoyed the rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. The Danes were fishing on the beach and enjoying their wonderful country. When rain set in at midday, we headed to the beautiful town of Sønderborg. We strolled through the city decorated with Danish red and white flags. After the obligatory Smørrebrød, we got back on our camper steed as the rain returned. The destination for the evening was the Holsten Therme near Kaltenkirchen, which we reached after 160 km of driving in the rain. We enjoyed the beautifully designed spa and the themed saunas in borrowed bathrobes. Our own “sauna towel,” which after 3 weeks in Norway had taken on a rather strange special smell, was somewhat off-putting.  At night we parked in a small parking lot next to the spa. The last can of lentil soup gave us a filling dinner.

08.06.2025 Home sweet home

The last 430 kilometers Anika safely drove us home with a small McDonald’s breakfast. Around 13:20 we reached Cologne and unloaded the car with the help of my father-in-law. The return of the camper went smoothly; the Citroën Jumper Vica had served us faithfully over the total of 8,585 kilometers. A truly successful journey into a land of endlessly beautiful panoramas, where behind every long road a new adventure awaits its discoverer. The north was a piece of untouched nature that is hard to find in Central Europe.