Scandinavia: Crowns, Choirs, and Chaos
Updated: Sep 22
Fourteen days. Three countries. A lot of trains. And, apparently, a million steps.
We started in Denmark with castles, crown jewels, and Viking ships, then moved through LEGO House, a surprise choir parade in Sweden, Oslo’s unexpectedly naked sculpture park, and a spectacular fjord-hopping day that somehow ended in The Tuna Incident.
Along the way: questionable Viking facts I have chosen not to accept, a mysterious woman dancing beside a waterfall, singing in a funicular, mountain goats, and more souvenir shops than Dan would ever choose voluntarily.
Some of it was beautiful. Some of it was weird. A lot of it was both.
This is the version we’ll actually remember.
Crowns, Castles, & Questionable-looking Lions
Copenhagen made a good first impression. The colorful waterfront reminded me a little of Amsterdam, and almost immediately I noticed something else: Crowns.
Crowns on towers. Crowns on seals. Crowns everywhere. Denmark really commits to the royal branding.
Rosenborg Castle leaned hard into that theme. King Christian IV seemed to be everywhere, but the creepiest royal encounter actually belonged to his son, Frederik III, whose life-size wax figure immediately made me think of the fortune-telling machine from Big.
The castle itself was gorgeous: tapestries, gilded details, ornate rooms, and art from a time when realism was apparently more of a suggestion. My favorite explanation came from a guide talking about the many lions used as symbols of strength; unfortunately some of the artists and sculptors had probably never actually seen a lion. This explained a lot.
Downstairs were the Danish Crown Jewels. I have yet to meet a collection of Crown Jewels I didn’t want to see, and Denmark’s did not disappoint.
Roskilde was another highlight. The cathedral was stunning, with centuries of Danish royalty buried inside and tombs that changed dramatically with the time period.
Then there was Queen Margrethe II’s future burial monument, already completed but covered while she is still very much alive. I understand the planning involved, but still. Imagine visiting your own tomb. Uh, pass.
From there, we walked to the Viking Ship Museum, stopping at an adorable little café along the way.
Ambiance: 10/10. Staff: 5/10. Food: 2/10. This was roughly when we accepted that Scandinavian food, particularly the fishier varieties, might not be our thing.
The Viking ships were fascinating, though. Five original ships had been partially recovered and painstakingly reconstructed, and all I could think about was the world’s most stressful jigsaw puzzle. Seeing how every surviving fragment had been identified, preserved, and placed was incredible.
Rosenborg Castle and Gardens
When Denmark Made it Weird
Helsingør gave us a much stranger castle experience.
Kronborg started normally enough with a beautiful waterfront walk, lots of Hamlet references, and entirely too many stairs.
Then we found the immersive royal-feast exhibit. There was music, broken furniture, scattered food, a fallen chandelier, and disco balls. I was not prepared for a 17th-century Danish castle to suddenly feel like a Renaissance party staged in the 1970s.
Down in the casemates, we found Holger Danske, the legendary sleeping warrior said to wake if Denmark is ever in danger. Now that was more my speed. I love a good legend!
Jægerspris and Frederikssund were more personal for Dan, who had spent time there as a cultural exchange student in high school. He got to see how the town and school had changed, although the disappearance of his old morning bakery was a bit of a personal betrayal.
Back in Copenhagen, we decided to challenge our already-sore feet and walk to the famous Little Mermaid statue.
Along the way, I visited approximately every souvenir shop available, discovered a character called Angry Viking, and somehow ended up in what appeared to be a celebration of Greenland.
There were singers, flags, cheering, demonstrations on the water, and at one point someone handed me a Greenland flag.
I accepted it.
Only afterward did I realize I had absolutely no idea what, politically or culturally, I might have just appeared to support. 👀
Eventually we reached the Little Mermaid, took our photos, consulted our feet, and immediately decided we had no desire to explore anything farther away. We had a lovely Italian dinner, and limped back to the hotel.
Denmark had set the tone nicely: beautiful history, royal excess, Vikings, questionable-looking lions, and a surprising amount of accidental weirdness.
TRAVEL TIP 1: CARRY A TINY BLISTER KIT
Mine has Band-Aids, moleskin, and little toe sleeves for when my feet choose violence. It takes up little room and has saved more than one walking-heavy day.
Kronborg Castle in Helsingør, best known as Hamlet’s castle
LEGO House, Lost Meds, & One Excellent Duck
As avid AFOLs, we were ridiculously excited for LEGO House. We arrived early, collected our wristbands, and then waited for our entry time like small children with access to adult money.
LEGO House was part museum, part hands-on brick playground, and part ongoing hunt for Batman hidden in the massive builds.
We created our own characters and animated them on big screens, competed to see whose LEGO robot could fake-plant the most flowers, and generally had a very good time behaving like the large children we are.
One of my favorite moments had absolutely nothing to do with LEGO. A whining toddler nearby was mid-meltdown when his mom calmly looked at him and said: “Hey bro, why you so mad?”
This is now a household quote.
The day only got slightly derailed when I realized I had somehow forgotten to pack a medication I’ve taken every day for more than 20 years. Was I going to die without it? No. Was the next week likely to be deeply unpleasant? Definitely. So, in between LEGO activities, we suddenly found ourselves trying to work out how to get a short supply of prescription medication in Denmark.
Thankfully, a local pharmacy pointed us toward a nearby clinic. They were able to see me that afternoon, and within a surprisingly short amount of time, I was heading back to the pharmacy with the medication I needed. Thank you, Danish medical professionals! Crisis averted.
Then it was straight back to LEGO.
And before we left, Dan surprised me with the LEGO House exclusive Wooden Duck Set, which was the perfect souvenir.
TRAVEL TIP 2: SPLURGE A LITTLE ON THE EXCLUSIVE SOUVENIR
If you find something exclusive to the place you're visiting, it's usually a better keepsake than something you could buy online later.
LEGO House in Billund, where the fun officially began
The Day We Didn't Plan
We only had one day in Helsingborg, and honestly, we didn’t have much of a plan. That turned out to be a good thing.
While wandering around the waterfront, we suddenly heard music and found ourselves watching a marching band lead a parade filled with people carrying flags from all over the world.
Apparently, the World Choir Games were kicking off in Helsingborg with an international friendship parade. Who knew?
After that, we asked Dex, our trusty AI travel assistant, what we really shouldn’t miss while we were there.
The answer was Sofiero Palace and Gardens. We went in with basically zero expectations and ended up loving it. The grounds were gorgeous, with colorful gardens, quiet paths, a hedge maze, and an exhibit inside the house. It was peaceful, beautiful, and one of the most relaxing afternoons of the trip. An ice cream at the end didn’t hurt either.
Somehow, one of our least-planned days became one of the best.
Sofiero Palace, surrounded by the gardens that completely stole the day A modern garden installation at Sofiero, mixing royal history with bold contemporary design A painting class tucked into the gardens at Sofiero One of Sofiero’s long, colorful garden borders in full bloom Oversized flowers taking over the staircase inside Sofiero Palace Sofiero’s gardens doing an excellent job of showing off
Nobody Warned Us About All the Naked People
We arrived in Oslo with part of a day to explore, so we headed to Vigeland Park.
Dex had recommended it as a sculpture park, and after the Sofiero win, we were game.
What Dex failed to mention was that the sculptures were mostly naked people who looked like they were having an absolutely terrible day. There were angry naked people. Sad naked people. Wrestling naked people. Naked people holding other naked people. Naked children mid-tantrum. An entire tower of piled on naked people.
Just... so many naked people.
We kept walking from one sculpture to the next, increasingly confused about what exactly we had wandered into. To be fair, once you know the park is meant to explore human life, relationships, family, conflict, aging, and emotion, it makes a lot more sense.
We did not have that context. We had “sculpture park.”
So our initial interpretation was basically: Oslo has some feelings.
Then, as we continued from the Royal Palace toward Karl Johans gate, we encountered even more naked children in public sculpture form.
At that point it started to feel less like a coincidence and more like a municipal commitment. We decided we had experienced enough art, nudity, and emotional turmoil for one afternoon and headed back to the hotel.
Honestly, though, it gave us one of the best stories of the trip.
And next time Dex recommends a sculpture park, I’m asking follow-up questions.
TRAVEL TIP 3: ASK ONE MORE QUESTION
If you get a recommendation for a place you know nothing about, look it up or ask a follow up question. Something like, "Specifically, how many angry, naked people statues should we expect?"
The Monolith. 121 people, one giant block of granite, absolutely no personal space The Wheel of Life. Deeply symbolic. Also, a lot of limbs. The Fountain at Vigeland Park, where even the trees are made of people
Fjords, Vikings, and The Tuna Incident
The next morning, we were up early for our Norway in a Nutshell adventure: Oslo to Myrdal, down to Flåm, through the fjords to Gudvangen, then onward to Voss and finally Bergen.
We knew it would be a long day. We did not know quite how long it would feel.
The train journey started beautifully, winding through increasingly dramatic scenery before we changed trains at Myrdal and headed toward Flåm.
The train stopped at Kjosfossen for photos. Music started playing. Then a woman in red appeared and began dancing near the falls. Without context, this was... different
Apparently, she was portraying the Huldra, a figure from Scandinavian folklore who lures people into the wilderness. This explanation played for about 1.5 seconds on a little monitor inside the train. We had not seen it. We just thought Norway had simply produced a mysterious dancing woman beside a waterfall and expected everyone to roll with it.
Flåm brought more Viking fun, including a few locals dressed in historically inspired gear who walked us through some Viking lore while thoroughly entertaining themselves and us. Then came a revelation I was not prepared to accept. Vikings apparently did not wear horned helmets.
Um... WHAT?!
I was a diehard Minnesota Vikings fan for decades. I have seen too many purple helmets, logos, costumes, cartoons, and assorted Viking things to process this calmly.
I acknowledge the historical evidence, but I reject it emotionally.
After that bombshell, we had plenty of time to explore the village, wander down to the waterfront, grab some food, stop at the Viking-themed pub, and eventually get caught in a sudden downpour.
The stop probably felt a little longer than it actually was because both of our stomachs had also decided to become unpredictable. Excellent timing.
From Flåm, we boarded the fjord cruise toward Gudvangen. Even in the rain, it was gorgeous. Waterfalls, steep cliffs, tiny settlements, mist hanging over the mountains. Exactly the kind of scenery you picture when someone says “Norwegian fjords.”
By Gudvangen, though, the day had started to fray around the edges. Our bus to Voss was delayed, and for a while nobody really seemed to know what was happening. Eventually it arrived, and we were back on our way. About halfway to Voss, the man sitting in front of us suddenly started vomiting. At that point, everyone on the bus became very interested in getting to the next stop.
He seemed okay after we pulled over, thankfully, but the general mood had shifted.
By the time we reached Voss and boarded the final train to Bergen, we were tired, mildly nauseated, and extremely ready to be done traveling.
Which is when the tuna appeared.
The group sitting across from our assigned seats casually opened what smelled like the most aggressive tuna meal ever created.
I tried. I truly did. But after a full day of stomach issues, rain, a delayed bus, and witnessing someone throw up directly in front of us, tuna was the final straw.
I had to get back off the train and wait on the platform until departure.
Apparently my reaction was not subtle, because our fellow passengers noticed and mercifully put the offending fish away.
By the time the smell had faded to survivable levels, we were able to board again. And eventually, finally, we reached Bergen.
It had been spectacular.
It had been weird.
It had been extremely long.
And it ended with what will forever be known in our house as The Tuna Incident. 🤢
TRAVEL TIP 4: PACK A TINY MEDICATION KIT
Mine has pain relievers, stomach meds, motion-sickness patches, and anything else that might rescue a day when my body suddently chooses chaos. Better to have it and not need it than need it halfway through fjord hopping.
A very Norwegian choose-your-own-adventure
Funiculars, Funiculà, and Surprise Goats
After our marathon journey across the fjords, we were ready for a slower day in Bergen.
We spent the morning wandering up and down little streets and alleys, poking around shops, and discovering the beauty of Scandianvian pastries. This I can get behind.
We walked past a funicular that headed up Mount Fløyen, and naturally, we queued. We live in England now – we know what to do.
Not long after joining the line, though, we were told the funicular was closing because of a car-door malfunction and would hopefully reopen later. “Hopefully” is not generally the word you want associated with a vehicle traveling up the side of a mountain.
So we abandoned the plan, explored some more, and took a nap.
By evening, the funicular was back in business, and we decided to give it another shot.
This time we made it into the car. Then the people around us started singing. Not just randomly singing, either. They were singing “Funiculì, Funiculà.” In a funicular. It turned out they had just won a gold medal at the World Choir Games with that song. You cannot make this stuff up.
After our private little concert, we emerged at the top of Fløyen to gorgeous views over Bergen. We took approximately a million scenery photos, watched the beginning of the sunset, and found surprise mountain goats!
The goats were petted; the hand sanitizer followed. See Istanbul Travel Tip 3 if you have questions.
Bergen gave us exactly what we needed: a slower pace, a good pastry, a nap, an unexpected concert, gorgeous views, and goats.
What a great way to spend a day.
A very good reason to take the funicular.
One Last Bit of Mayhem
The next day was mostly a travel day: a short flight from Bergen back to Oslo, followed by a quiet evening and very good French fries with drinks at the top of the Radisson Blu.
The following morning, we headed for home with a connection through Copenhagen. Our first flight was slightly delayed, but nothing seemed especially concerning.
Then we reached immigration control. The queue was enormous.
Instead of steadily moving everyone through, staff eventually started calling out flights that were already boarding. Those passengers then had to weave their way through the crowd to reach an immigration officer. By the time our flight was called, the line stretched ridiculously far back through the airport.
Thankfully, enough passengers were stuck in immigration that the airline held the plane while we all scrambled through. Which was especially appreciated once we realized it was the last flight going our way that day.
One final burst of airport mayhem, just to keep things consistent. Then, finally, home.
Exhausted, ready for our own bed, and carrying a lot of very good stories.
TRAVEL TIP 5: WRITE THINGS DOWN WHILE THEY'RE FRESH
My 40-something memory is not nearly as reliable as I'd like it to be, and the weird little details disappear first. A few notes in your phone, a quick voice memo, or even a running list of "don't forget this" moments can save you later. You never know when you might decide to start a travel blog.
Scandinavia by the Numbers
🗓️ 14 Days
🚞 3 countries
👣 191,959 steps
🎵 1 surprise waterfall dancer
🇬🇱 1 accidental Greenland flag
🤢 1 Tuna Incident
More naked statues than expected
Total Mayhem Rating
Enough detours, oddities, and "well, this is happening" moments to earn the label, but not enough actual disaster to push it higher.
Very on-brand (and fab) trip, really.
Extra Bits I Want to Remember
Scandinavia gave us a little bit of everything.
Beautiful cities, castles, Viking history, fjords, gardens, LEGO, trains, unexpected performances, questionable-looking lions, angry naked statues, and one very memorable tuna incident.
Some of the best parts were the things we planned for months. Others were complete accidents.
You can build the itinerary, book the trains, and map out every stop, and somehow still come home talking about the surprise parade, the choir singing in a funicular, the bakery that disappeared twenty years ago, or the moment someone handed you a flag you weren’t entirely sure you should be holding.
We came home tired, happy, and with a lot of weird little memories I really don’t want to forget.
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