I put some bags on my motorcycle, added a waterproof bag on the seat for bulky items such as a tent, shoes, and the like, and entered a few places I wanted to visit along the way into my navigation system. I didn't have a precise schedule, as I had no idea how many miles I would be able to cover each day. After all, the NC is not exactly a typical highway speedster, especially with a full load of travel gear. For the same reason, I didn't book ferries or accommodation.

Day 1 – We can envy the Poles their highways

The first day, like almost all the following ones, was mainly about covering as many kilometers as possible. I planned to cross Poland and try to find accommodation before the Latvian border. I set off from Prague on the D11 towards Hradec and then north via Náchod to Poland. After crossing the border, I encountered endless and infinitely boring Polish country roads until Wroclaw, where I finally got on the highway around two o'clock. Although I don't normally like highways, I was really looking forward to this one. Then the kilometers on the speedometer finally started to add up faster, but otherwise, apart from the occasional diversion of refueling at sometimes peculiar gas stations, there is nothing particularly interesting about this flat landscape. What surprised me, at least compared to our region, was the quality of the highway network and the new construction in many places, where machines and people were actually doing something. I thought sadly of the D1 highway, and around six in the evening (when the border was still unreachably far away), I started looking for accommodation for the night. After browsing Booking for a while, I found a nice little hotel near the village of Szczebra. I arrived there before nine in the evening.

Distance travelled: 894 km

Day 2 – Where the hell is that ferry?

The weather was great, just like the day before, but the highways disappeared and we had to take regular roads on our way northeast. Except for the crazy traffic, it was a pleasant change, and thanks to traveling on two wheels, which offered completely new possibilities for overtaking, the journey proceeded at an acceptable pace (I wouldn't want to drive there even as a punishment) . On the way, I took a short break at the Hill of Crosses and continued towards Riga and Tallinn. The landscape in Latvia and Estonia was not very different from the previous one, and due to time pressure, I didn't linger anywhere and arrived at the port at around 8 p.m. Tallinn was all dug up, and on top of that, my navigation system led me to the wrong pier, so I got a little lost, but eventually ended up in front of the right terminal. I booked tickets for 9:40 p.m. with EckeroLine on my phone, paid for them, and waited in front of the entrance. Half an hour before departure, I was getting a little nervous because there were no cars or ships in sight, and the option to purchase a ticket for this connection had disappeared from the transport company's website (as had the money from my account). So I tried to knock on the office door, but it was also empty. I slowly began to panic, as I really didn't want to spend the night in the port. At the time of departure, it was still deserted and empty everywhere, so I looked at the timetable and found that this connection does not run on Thursdays (but it was possible to make a reservation...). I had no choice but to quickly look for a competitor. Fortunately, a more expensive but faster ferry operated by Tallink was leaving in less than half an hour. So I quickly made a new reservation and jumped on my motorcycle. The new ferry was departing from the first pier at the other end of town. I arrived seven minutes before the entrance closed. I passed through the cameras and rushed to the first gate, ringing the intercom at the booth in vain. The ticket reader wouldn't accept the barcode for my reservation. In a panic, I noticed that there was a warning on the reservation page that I hadn't filled in my zip code during registration. I quickly corrected this and the ticket was finally activated. However, in order to read the license plate, it was necessary to drive through the entrance gate with the camera again. So I drove in the opposite direction into the entrance and, luckily, saw the illuminated number of the terminal where I was supposed to line up in the mirror. Somehow, I managed to get through, and the barriers closed behind me. I was more sweaty from this than from the entire previous trip, but finally, at ten o'clock, I parked my motorcycle in the lower deck and went to recharge my batteries on the nearest seat and down at least one coffee so that I would wake up on the other side of the bay. In all the stress, I forgot to secure my motorcycle, but when I returned to the lower deck in Helsinki, I found it tied up and in good condition. So someone from the crew took care of it (no wonder, for double the ticket price). There was no point in looking for accommodation for the rest of the night, as we arrived in Finland just after midnight, so I decided to drive somewhere outside the city and pitch my tent at the first place I could find. In the end, I drove almost to Lahti and, before two in the morning, turned onto a forest road and stopped at the first clearing. It was only after I had pitched my tent that a passing express train alerted me to the fact that I was right under the railway embankment. "What can you do, I'm not going any further," and besides, dawn was breaking. I crawled into my sleeping bag and tried to get some sleep, at least for a while.

Distance travelled: 915 km

Day 3 – Runway and Santa

In the morning, apart from a bunch of mosquitoes and increased traffic on the railway line, I was greeted by beautiful sunny weather again. Breakfast was not included in the price of the stay, so I resorted to the "adventure menu" for the first time and heated up a strudel to quiet my rumbling stomach. My plan was to drive as far north as possible and ideally find accommodation somewhere around Rovaniemi. The dramatic decrease in traffic on the roads was a positive development, so despite the lower speed limits (which are in place throughout Scandinavia), it was possible to drive comfortably. In addition, the surrounding landscape full of lakes and forests was also more interesting – although still as flat as a board. I also had lunch from a bag somewhere before Oulu, where the landscape finally began to undulate a little and the endless straights began to be interspersed with occasional bends, so I could slowly but surely begin to work on removing the "poop strip" from the rear tire. At one point, I was surprised to find myself driving along a remote forest road, and suddenly the forest gave way and I was racing along the runway of some hidden airport (something like the D1 near Měřín, but even wider). My hand on the throttle immediately began to accelerate automatically, preparing to take off from the runway. I arrived in Rovaniemi after seven o'clock and, of course, I couldn't miss a short stop in Santa's town. After crossing the Arctic Circle at the exit gate, I immediately set off for a retro campsite in the town of Petkula. Time had stopped here a long time ago. The demolished reception and torn-down sign at the turnoff to the forest road scared me at first, but in the end I continued and drove to the cabins further into the forest. Here I was greeted by an elderly gentleman who only spoke Finnish, but we still managed to agree on renting a cabin for the night. The price was more than reasonable (12 EUR). The campsite also had a heated sauna right next to the pier on the adjacent river, and I must say that despite the equipment reminiscent of Žižka's days when he was still only a private, I was thrilled by the relaxed, homely atmosphere and could easily imagine spending more time there.

Distance travelled: 911 km

Day 4 – Border with Norway = weather border

I was awakened in the morning by a light drizzle. The view of the metallic black sky did not look very pleasant, and the radar confirmed my concerns. Therefore, I did not rush anywhere and enjoyed the magic of the genius loci on the terrace while having breakfast. Around nine o'clock, the clouds parted and the sun peeked out, so I packed my rain gear back into its case and stored it under the lid of the "tank" (connoisseurs know – I just love that space in the front of the motorcycle) and set off without it. Even though I was quickly moving north of the Arctic Circle, the temperature was still pleasant enough that one could jump into one of the many lakes surrounding the road (which would probably cure me of that feeling very quickly). The landscape also changed amazingly (for the umpteenth time), and compared to southern Finland, which was more about swallowing kilometers on endless plains, I finally began to really enjoy the ride itself.

The border with Norway passed surprisingly quickly, but what changed within a few meters of crossing the line was the temperature and the weather in general. The thermometer dropped ten degrees, and after descending to the sea, it started to blow quite unpleasantly. Black clouds appeared again in front of me, so I slowed down at the first beach and had a quick lunch to warm up before putting on my rain gear.

After a quick lunch, again from the adventure menu, I stuffed winter inserts into my clothes and put on a raincoat over them. My body temperature returned to normal, but for longer trips in this weather, I would need to invest in some higher-quality travel gear next time. In any case, my fears were confirmed, and after a few hundred meters, I drove into the rain. What cheered me up a little were the herds of reindeer that I began to encounter along the way. You don't see them so often in the south, but here you can see them up close and at every turn. I was slowly approaching the turning to Nordkap and unfortunately made one crucial mistake when I missed the last gas station, thinking that there would definitely be another one before entering the tunnel. Of course, there wasn't, but more on that later.

After crossing over to the island, where the northernmost road in Europe is located, fog joined the icy blizzard, thick enough to cut with a knife. Apparently, a trip to this well-known place is supposed to be challenging, if only a little. So I trudged along at a walking pace with my visor open so I could at least see something, and along the way I began to encounter those hikers. It was only when I reached my destination that I found out that they were organizing some kind of march there and that the people who were gradually arriving had to be revived with hot tea at the finish line. So I somehow shuffled my way to the gate. Unfortunately, at the ticket office in front of the parking lot, I realized that I had left my payment card in the inside pocket of my jacket. So I had to take off not only my raincoat, but also my winter liner. In a moment, I was frozen stiff and couldn't even reach the window with my shaking hand to give the lady my card. I quickly parked my motorcycle in the parking lot and hurried to warm up in the adjacent building. Visibility outside was about five meters, so the highlight of the trip and the goal I had set out to achieve were really worth it.

After a while, when I decided that I had thawed out enough and realized that I really didn't want to spend the night here, I found the nearest accommodation on the mainland on my phone and headed back to my motorcycle. After starting the engine, I was alarmed to see that I had less than two bars on the fuel gauge and slowly came to terms with the fact that I would have to refuel from canisters somewhere in the storm. Of course, I later found out that there was a gas station on the island in a town not far from the tunnel, but I didn't see it in the fog – in fact, I didn't even see the town properly. So, with an empty tank, I headed back to the mainland. After ten kilometers, I threw in the towel and emptied the cans into the tank. After about half an hour, I finally arrived at the gas station and filled up with the much-needed fuel. After calculating, I realized that my tank would have been 1.5 liters short. The weather wasn't improving much, and it was around nine o'clock, so I had to hurry a bit. The nearest available campsite was in the next valley, so I had one more short mountain crossing ahead of me. Finally, after ten o'clock, I arrived at the reception, and luckily for me, they had a free cabin. I felt sorry for one crazy guy who was camping on the grass next to his motorcycle (he was already asleep), and I quickly unpacked and warmed up in the shower. It was a massacre, but the necessary "champagne" to celebrate reaching my destination took place. Then I passed out like a log.

Distance travelled: 726 km

Day 5 – A view only in my imagination

In the morning, I didn't feel like leaving my warm cabin. Outside, clouds hung a few dozen meters above the sea, and the snow scattered around didn't promise much warmth during the day either.  Nevertheless, I had to vacate my refuge before ten o'clock. I threw my things into the motorcycle, swept the cabin (in Norway, cleaning is usually your responsibility and not included in the price of accommodation) and set off for Alta. I arrived there around 11 a.m. The town reminded me of those classic North American "towns" known from TV series (such as Men in Trees). I don't think there's much of that style further south. On the way, I kept encountering one herd of reindeer after another, so I had to stay alert, even though the animals pretty much ignored the traffic and none of them suddenly jumped under my wheels. Even so, downshifting with my tuned LeoVince trumpet sometimes managed to catch the attention of the local furry creatures. After Alta, I planned to visit the Tirpitz battleship museum, but unfortunately it was closed, so I will have to continue to make do with Miloš Hubáček's book Moře v plamenech (Sea in Flames) and remember the authentic objects and information from Kåfjord, where it was moored, only from photographs.

From Alta, I continued south on a beautiful road around numerous fjords. The views were marred only by low-hanging clouds, but even so, at times I didn't know where to look first to enjoy the panoramas and not miss anything. In the town of Olderdalen, I turned off the main road onto a ferry (my first in Norway) and headed to visit one more city that I didn't want to miss – Tromsø. It is located on an island in the middle of one of the fjords, and if you want to enjoy it, be sure to turn off the main road. Unfortunately, I didn't do that, and after crossing the bridge that dominates the south side, I disappeared into a complex of tunnels under the town, where I got completely lost in the local system of roundabouts (and navigation without a signal) and always ended up somewhere other than where I had planned. After a bit of wandering, I finally made it, but I decided to just whiz past the airport and cross over to the mainland on the other side. Time was slowly running out, so I evaluated my accommodation options and headed south to find a place to lay my head. Unfortunately, about 100 km before my planned overnight stay at a campsite just outside Narvik, the heavens opened and the clouds that had been ominously floating across the sky all day unleashed a torrential downpour. Thanks to the cold weather, I was still wearing my rain gear, so I wasn't caught off guard, but it wasn't a pleasant experience nonetheless. I slowed down and arrived at the campsite around half past nine in the evening. The receptionist praised the beautiful view of the new bridge over the adjacent fjord, but in this weather, I could only imagine it. Hopefully, I'll have better luck in the morning. Soaked to the skin, I settled into a small cabin at the highest point of the campsite, covered my motorcycle, and headed for a shower to warm up a bit (traditionally with hot water for a fee).

Distance travelled: 646 km

Day 6 – Camping despite the moose

Of course, the downpour continued in the morning, so I had to give up on the promised view of the bridge structure. I had planned to cross the Lofoten Islands, but I wasn't too keen on the idea in this weather. In addition, due to the persistent rain and wind, the temperature had dropped significantly, and I had to turn my heater up to maximum power at times (so my palms were burning and my joints were frozen). What can you do when the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain, so after a traditional breakfast from the adventure menu (a surprisingly tasty rice pudding), I packed up my wet motorcycle and set off to ride around the fjord and cross the promised bridge from Narvik back. The rain and wind didn't let up, so after the turnoff to Harstad/Narvik Airport, I stopped at a gas station and warmed up with an XXL cappuccino and a homemade burger (they grill them at basically every gas station here, and they're nothing like what you get at fast food restaurants back home). Surprisingly, the rain slowly turned from a downpour to a standard drizzle, so I was able to set off deeper into Lofoten with a slight sense of optimism.

For some reason, I was convinced that the ferry from the last town in Å leaves around four o'clock, so I planned my trip to catch it. I planned to spend the night back on the mainland. Fortunately, after a few kilometers, the weather began to change, the sun came out, and the roads dried up, so I could begin to enjoy the beauty of the islands in full motorcycle glory. I don't even know how, but the end of the road flew by, so I climbed up to the viewpoint a short distance from the parking lot at the "end of the world." I checked out the souvenirs in the local shop and slowly made my way to the pier before four o'clock. Unfortunately, it was only here that I found out that the ferry didn't leave until eight in the evening. Considering that the trip across the water takes about four hours, I slowly came to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be sleeping in a warm cabin at the campsite tonight. At least I could enjoy the local beauty a little longer, even though I didn't get back on the saddle. I set up camp on a nearby bench and relaxed in the northern sun, which didn't lose its intensity even in the early evening hours.

The boat arrived on time, and for the first time, I experienced a thorough instruction on how to tie up motorcycles. After my experience on my last Scandinavian vacation, where passengers sitting by the windows were vomiting all around us in a storm on the way from Lofoten, I took a strategic spot along the longitudinal axis of the ship, where the swings should be the lowest, and after taking a few photos of the departure, I tried to get some sleep. We arrived in Bodø just after midnight, and I must say that it was surprisingly smooth. Despite the strong wind, the voyage was calm, and the new type of ferry was obviously designed to handle larger waves. Upon arrival, I refueled at the end of town and set off into the darkness to find a place to sleep. After almost hitting a moose that crossed my path around 1 a.m. (it's a really huge beast), I lowered my standards and decided to take the first spot I came across. Even so, I drove all the way to the main E6 and turned off just past the town of Drageid, in a small forest near the river. It was half past one on my watch and dawn was slowly breaking again.

Distance travelled: 517 km

Day 7 – The Arctic Circle has been conquered!

Today, I planned to cross the Arctic Circle and get as close to Throndheim as possible. I stumbled out of my tent around nine o'clock and congratulated myself on choosing a good place to spend the night. I didn't even expect it to be on the main road. I had a little homemade dried meat for breakfast, postponed my morning hygiene routine until the nearest gas station, and finally set off in nice, albeit still cold, weather.

It was only a short distance to the Arctic Circle, so before I knew it, I was parking in front of the low Arctic Circle Center building full of souvenirs on the plateau. There was snow everywhere, but I wasn't alone on my motorcycle, which reassured me a little. I bought some small souvenirs, freshened up in the washroom, and then quickly headed for lower altitudes in search of some warmth.

Around noon, I was in the town of Mo i Rana, where I had my usual coffee and burger for lunch and enjoyed the wonderful sunny weather for the first time in a long time. The road to the south wound beautifully around the fjords, the asphalt was flawless, and, most importantly, there was minimal traffic, with me not encountering anyone for long periods of time. Simply motorcycling nirvana. Not to mention the views of the local "panoramas." Although I was most afraid of this relatively quiet section, I ended up enjoying it immensely, and before I knew it, I found myself in Throndheim around 8 p.m. I slowed down at the local cathedral, took some photos, and looked at the map to see where I could stop for the night. About 80 km below the city, I found a campsite just right for me, which I reached in about an hour. Given the weather, I didn't bother with a cabin and pitched my tent right by the stream flowing through the edge of the campsite. There were just a few motorhomes and a Polish family also in a tent.

For dinner on the riverbank, I heated up some honey chicken wings and washed them down with beer from the last gas station before the campsite. It was simply a perfect end to a perfect day.

Distance traveled: 720 km

Day 8 – Time for a detour

Since I had a little extra mileage in reserve, I decided to take a little detour from my original plan to head for Lillehammer and set off for the nearby Trollstigen and drive around the fjords a little more before leaving them behind for good. In the town of Oppdal, I turned right off the main road onto Route 70 and headed for Sunndalsøra, where I joined the road along the coast. There were occasional drops of rain along the way, and the temperature still refused to rise above ten degrees, so I put on my raincoat in Åndalsnes and set off for the famous Norwegian "Stelvio." At the top, I took a walk above the waterfall (not the best idea in my rain gear, as I was soon sweaty and wet inside). I bought the last of my souvenirs and crossed another valley and ferry to Geiranger Fjord, supposedly one of the most beautiful in Norway. Of course, I couldn't miss the Dalsnibba viewpoint behind the toll gate. Winter still reigned here, as evidenced by the adjacent frozen lake. So, I just took the necessary photo at the top and quickly went back down to the warmth.

On the way, I wanted to take the scenic route through Gamle Strynefjellsvegen. Unfortunately, I was stopped by a barrier halfway down the ski slope. So I turned around and, on a road carved out of two-meter-high mountains of snow, I returned to the main road and finally set off for Lillehammer. Unfortunately, my escape to the lowlands in search of warmth did not happen. After a few kilometers, there was suddenly a line of cars, which I overtook on my motorcycle, but sadly it ended with ambulances and police cars. There had been a serious accident involving three cars on the road. After a while, a helicopter with rescuers landed a short distance in front of me, and a policeman watching warned me that it would take another two hours. Frozen stiff, I sat down on the guardrail and watched the paramedics bustling about. After a while, the helicopter pilot stopped by, as he was waiting for the injured to be loaded, and we chatted for a while about what had happened. There were nine injured, three of them seriously, and one even had a heart attack, so they had to resuscitate him. Not great, I have to say. I don't know what the drivers were doing there, as it was a clear stretch of road with a long bend, but who knows. A moment of inattention and disaster strikes.

However, about an hour later, when the helicopter flew away, a police officer waved me through with my motorcycle. I tried not to look around too much, but judging by the condition of the cars I saw out of the corner of my eye, it must have been a terrible crash. At the next gas station, I wolfed down a hot dog and a large mug of hot tea to warm up and decided that I wouldn't push myself any further today and would find accommodation at the first campsite after joining the E6. That didn't quite work out, as the first campsite had obviously been abandoned for some time, but the second stop was successful. It was some kind of rafting camp full of young paddlers, but they still had a cabin by the forest available for me. As it started raining heavily again, I really appreciated it. I turned the heating up full blast and went to cook dinner and freshen up a bit in the washroom with a kitchenette. There was even a heated outdoor sauna underneath, but in the end I decided to skip it and went to sleep like a baby.

Distance traveled: 594 km

Day 9 – Someone forgot to tell the navigation system about the road closures

Unfortunately, the rain didn't stop in the morning, quite the contrary, so I enjoyed some hot strudel and tea on the covered terrace in front of the cottage, then put on my raincoat and headed for Lillehammer. There, I went to check out the local ski jumps, where the 1994 Olympics were held, which are still widely referenced here. After Lillehammer, I planned to visit Holmenkolen in Oslo. I found it relatively quickly, even though the weather was still not favorable for panoramic views, which I agreed with other motorcyclists from Germany on traditional GS bikes. Unfortunately, on the way back through the city, I hit several road closures, which the navigation system refused to acknowledge, so I spent a good two hours wandering around in traffic jams in the center before I managed to get onto the E6 highway heading south. Fortunately, the weather finally improved and I was able to thaw out a bit on the way. After crossing the Swedish border, I chose today's destination at a gas station and directed the navigation system to a spot just below Göteborg, where I liked a campsite right on the coast. I arrived there around nine o'clock, which was fine in terms of sunshine, but unfortunately the reception was closed. Fortunately, the owner answered my call and told me where to find the shower cards and where I could pitch my tent. So it all worked out in the end, and I was able to enjoy a beautiful sunset on the beach by the sea with a beer as a reward.

Distance traveled: 623 km

10.          Day – Betrayal on German highways

Today's plan was simple: get as close to home as possible and spend the night somewhere in Germany. I was in no hurry, so after my morning hygiene routine, I went to the beach one more time and didn't pack up my tent until around ten o'clock, paid for my accommodation, and headed for breakfast at the first gas station along the way. The weather was great, and apart from a few bottlenecks on the highway, the traffic was light, so the journey went surprisingly quickly. At noon, I was on the bridge connecting Sweden and Denmark, which I couldn't miss. Crossing it on a motorcycle is a better experience than in a car. I also flew through Denmark without any complications, so I was at the port after two o'clock and by three o'clock I had my motorcycle secured on the ferry to Rostock.

Thanks to favorable winds, we were in Rostock in less than two hours, and since it wasn't even five o'clock yet, I decided to spend the next night in my own bed. So I grabbed my bag and set off on the autobahn towards Prague. Unfortunately, I was a little surprised by the low density of gas stations, which I had feared more in northern Norway. The fuel gauge flashed one bar below half as soon as I passed the first gas station, so I started looking for a place to refuel. Unfortunately, the next gas station was many kilometers away and only for electric cars, which surprised many motorcyclists who sadly looked at the empty tanks of their machines, including me, of course. However, there was no time for heroics, and since I was already running on empty, I unpacked the canisters from my suitcases for the second time on this trip and filled up my parched motorcycle. Before leaving, it would never have occurred to me that I would run out of fuel on a German highway. Fortunately, there were no more impromptu refueling stops, so I clocked up the miles and slowly approached the border. It was just a bit unusual how dark it got here early and that the gas stations didn't have anything warm to eat after 6 p.m. There was nothing I could do, so I was already driving in the dark when I reached the Czech Republic. In the end, I made it home before midnight, so at half past eleven the motorcycle was in the garage and a moment later I was in the shower and then in bed.

Distance traveled: 1,063 km