Arctic Circle road trip - a blog
Discussion
Loving the write-up. I’ve done similar trips (OK, not quite as long, but 750+ miles per day) in a GL420, and it really is exactly the right car for it. Power, space, and a feeling that it’s waaaaay more capable than anything else you can throw at it.
(I found that the ride was massively better with 19” wheels, by the way)
(I found that the ride was massively better with 19” wheels, by the way)
Day 4 – Tuesday 11th Feb 2020
Molde (Norway) – Mo I Rana (Norway)
469 miles / 10 hours 46 mins
Average 43mph / 34.1mpg
Summary today: Good. Bad. Good. Mad
Good
If I exclaimed that yesterday was the day, then today was… lost for words. I was, actually lost for words.
I woke early again. Really early – like 3am-ish. This time it was because I’m in my early 50s, and that’s what we do now. The bed was comfy but the pillow not – far too soft, so I struggled to go back to sleep. And this is when I had the great idea of checking my phone.
About an hour later, I made a special effort to go back to sleep, and actually managed to do so. I had decided to set the alarm later than usual because the place I wanted to visit first today was only 45 minutes away so I needed to allow for the sun to rise.
I forced a small breakfast down… I don’t know why I’m struggling to eat in the mornings – it’s not something I have any issues with when I’m at a Hotel for work. Anyway, coffee, OJ, eggs and bacon with a tiny croissant. It was enough. Then I checked out and hit the road.
The road, in this case, freely led me away from the stream of traffic wanting to get into Moldefjord, and as Mrs Google had predicted, I arrived at the Atlantic Ocean road in about 45 minutes. I knew I was there because of the satnav but in case there was any doubt, the view of that famous forced-perspective bridge rose out of the horizon. It really looks like that too – as if the bridge were too steep, and bendy.
I tried driving and shooting pictures from my phone – Until I wrote this, I hadn’t checked if anything “in focus” came out. Good news - some have. I hope the dash-mounted GoPro caught something good too. I’ll edit the video footage once I’m home.
Fortunately, there are numerous places you can stop and take pictures, including a completely empty (this morning) car park. It was cold outside the car but I couldn’t take my eyes off the surroundings for long enough to reach for my coat, so I shivered and took loads of pictures of that bridge from the other side.
And fortunately again, there’s very little traffic on this road, so I was able to cruise really slowly along the remaining few Km, soaking it in, and shooting the phone camera at random images. The whole area is achingly, breathtakingly, beautiful. I tried to find some other words to describe it but they’ve all been used before by people with a more poetic heart than me.
As I drove away, I knew I’d end up at another Ferry today, despite my originally not wanting to take any. After yesterday’s, I was much happier with the idea, particularly because it was going to save me an hour off my end-time. But what I hadn’t realised is that the tunnel between me and the ferry was going to be another engineering marvel.
I approached another toll booth with the word “manuelle” or some other spelling that I failed to capture writ large above the only lane that was open, so I performed my now-perfectly-executed “British citizen payment method”. This time though there was nice lady at the hatch, and no other cars in either direction, so we had a chat for 5 mins. She’d been working there for 10 years, and almost didn’t believe me when I told her why I was there. She thought it was both brilliant and mad but conceded the roads that had led me to her this morning were worthy of a look-see.
Then she explained that the tunnel I was about to drive through was nearly 6Km long and dropped 250m under the fjord. And boy did it drop. If I thought the one yesterday was steep… this was mad, and the climb back out truly significant. I wondered if anyone drove a wheezy-enough car to struggle. My wife is Polish – when we used to visit her hometown, she would show me the little Fiats that people puttered around in – all 30-ish bhp. And my brother’s first Land Rover, a 200TDi required a couple of gear-drops to make it up the A38 at the end of the M5.
There were lots of tunnels today – mostly through mountains. One was 9Km long. You start to quite literally get tunnel vision at about the halfway point. They have markers inside, showing how many Km you’ve driven against how many Km are left. I’m not claustrophobic but being so far underground is an unnatural state for me.
Anyway, after the deep tunnel, there was the ferry, and I parked next to a tractor with just about the biggest studded tyres I've ever seen. I bet he never needs help to get out of a snowdrift.
... and then I was on the road to… more amazing sights. For the next few hours, I drove alongside glass-flat water on virtually empty, winding roads. The car’s height is just enough to allow for views aplenty, and I stopped a few times to take pics.
Then came the snow. Well, I arrived at the snow to be precise. It didn’t actually snow but there was a really thick layer all over, for miles and miles. The roads were clear though, so progress was swift still. To one side of me, I could see the frozen water, with a dusting of snow on top. It was so flat it looked unreal.
Bad
And then the snow was gone, and the pace slowed through Trondheim and beyond. For the next few hours, I drove back into the snow again but this time stuck behind a van at about 40mph where I sat and turned my head off through absolute boredom.
Good
Suddenly a 4WD Skoda appeared alongside me, and overtook both me and the van. It woke me up enough to give chase. This was the start of the best fun I’d had in a while. We were driving on roads mottled with solid ice. The car rumbled over the ice, and we made excellent progress – far faster than you probably should in such conditions but there was no-one holding us up, so we just went for it.
Mad
Coming towards us were enormous articulated lorries. The road was barely wide enough for us and them, and our respective closing speeds was crackers and yet these locals just took it all in their stride, so who was I to argue? I’d seen lorries passing lorries earlier, so I knew there was enough room, but it all felt… risky?
After a while, I realised I had started an internal monologue about this, and it wasn’t in the form of Murray Walker as you might expect. No – I was being commentated-on by Richard Burton, from Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds. My GL had morphed into HMS Thunderchild, and the martians were now the artics. I can’t recall how it all went but as daft as I sounded even to myself, it carried on for hours. I hadn’t spoken with anyone apart from receptionists and a couple of phone calls for days, and I drive without music or radio. I like being lost in my own head – and I even mentioned this on a Facebook post to my friends and family, one of whom added that he probably wouldn’t like being lost in my head to which I replied he’d probably need a hazmat suit.
After about two and a half hours of this, the Skoda ahead of me came up behind an artic going our way, and we slowed to a more decent pace for a while before he overtook the artic and left me contemplating reasons why I didn’t follow.
I didn’t want to press my luck.
The rest of the journey was slow and fast at various intervals, but it was consistently long. There were no motorways today, and the roads were similar to an English B-road – for over 400 miles.
I arrived at my Hotel in the dark (for the past two and a half hours), and slipped & slid across the un-cleared ice outside the entrance. It’s a small guest house thing tonight, with no dinner available, and I can’t be bothered to go out, so I’m hoping I’ll be in the mood for breakfast tomorrow.
The GL is HMS Thunderchild, by the way. An ironclad warship of a car.
Molde (Norway) – Mo I Rana (Norway)
469 miles / 10 hours 46 mins
Average 43mph / 34.1mpg
Summary today: Good. Bad. Good. Mad
Good
If I exclaimed that yesterday was the day, then today was… lost for words. I was, actually lost for words.
I woke early again. Really early – like 3am-ish. This time it was because I’m in my early 50s, and that’s what we do now. The bed was comfy but the pillow not – far too soft, so I struggled to go back to sleep. And this is when I had the great idea of checking my phone.
About an hour later, I made a special effort to go back to sleep, and actually managed to do so. I had decided to set the alarm later than usual because the place I wanted to visit first today was only 45 minutes away so I needed to allow for the sun to rise.
I forced a small breakfast down… I don’t know why I’m struggling to eat in the mornings – it’s not something I have any issues with when I’m at a Hotel for work. Anyway, coffee, OJ, eggs and bacon with a tiny croissant. It was enough. Then I checked out and hit the road.
The road, in this case, freely led me away from the stream of traffic wanting to get into Moldefjord, and as Mrs Google had predicted, I arrived at the Atlantic Ocean road in about 45 minutes. I knew I was there because of the satnav but in case there was any doubt, the view of that famous forced-perspective bridge rose out of the horizon. It really looks like that too – as if the bridge were too steep, and bendy.
I tried driving and shooting pictures from my phone – Until I wrote this, I hadn’t checked if anything “in focus” came out. Good news - some have. I hope the dash-mounted GoPro caught something good too. I’ll edit the video footage once I’m home.
Fortunately, there are numerous places you can stop and take pictures, including a completely empty (this morning) car park. It was cold outside the car but I couldn’t take my eyes off the surroundings for long enough to reach for my coat, so I shivered and took loads of pictures of that bridge from the other side.
And fortunately again, there’s very little traffic on this road, so I was able to cruise really slowly along the remaining few Km, soaking it in, and shooting the phone camera at random images. The whole area is achingly, breathtakingly, beautiful. I tried to find some other words to describe it but they’ve all been used before by people with a more poetic heart than me.
As I drove away, I knew I’d end up at another Ferry today, despite my originally not wanting to take any. After yesterday’s, I was much happier with the idea, particularly because it was going to save me an hour off my end-time. But what I hadn’t realised is that the tunnel between me and the ferry was going to be another engineering marvel.
I approached another toll booth with the word “manuelle” or some other spelling that I failed to capture writ large above the only lane that was open, so I performed my now-perfectly-executed “British citizen payment method”. This time though there was nice lady at the hatch, and no other cars in either direction, so we had a chat for 5 mins. She’d been working there for 10 years, and almost didn’t believe me when I told her why I was there. She thought it was both brilliant and mad but conceded the roads that had led me to her this morning were worthy of a look-see.
Then she explained that the tunnel I was about to drive through was nearly 6Km long and dropped 250m under the fjord. And boy did it drop. If I thought the one yesterday was steep… this was mad, and the climb back out truly significant. I wondered if anyone drove a wheezy-enough car to struggle. My wife is Polish – when we used to visit her hometown, she would show me the little Fiats that people puttered around in – all 30-ish bhp. And my brother’s first Land Rover, a 200TDi required a couple of gear-drops to make it up the A38 at the end of the M5.
There were lots of tunnels today – mostly through mountains. One was 9Km long. You start to quite literally get tunnel vision at about the halfway point. They have markers inside, showing how many Km you’ve driven against how many Km are left. I’m not claustrophobic but being so far underground is an unnatural state for me.
Anyway, after the deep tunnel, there was the ferry, and I parked next to a tractor with just about the biggest studded tyres I've ever seen. I bet he never needs help to get out of a snowdrift.
... and then I was on the road to… more amazing sights. For the next few hours, I drove alongside glass-flat water on virtually empty, winding roads. The car’s height is just enough to allow for views aplenty, and I stopped a few times to take pics.
Then came the snow. Well, I arrived at the snow to be precise. It didn’t actually snow but there was a really thick layer all over, for miles and miles. The roads were clear though, so progress was swift still. To one side of me, I could see the frozen water, with a dusting of snow on top. It was so flat it looked unreal.
Bad
And then the snow was gone, and the pace slowed through Trondheim and beyond. For the next few hours, I drove back into the snow again but this time stuck behind a van at about 40mph where I sat and turned my head off through absolute boredom.
Good
Suddenly a 4WD Skoda appeared alongside me, and overtook both me and the van. It woke me up enough to give chase. This was the start of the best fun I’d had in a while. We were driving on roads mottled with solid ice. The car rumbled over the ice, and we made excellent progress – far faster than you probably should in such conditions but there was no-one holding us up, so we just went for it.
Mad
Coming towards us were enormous articulated lorries. The road was barely wide enough for us and them, and our respective closing speeds was crackers and yet these locals just took it all in their stride, so who was I to argue? I’d seen lorries passing lorries earlier, so I knew there was enough room, but it all felt… risky?
After a while, I realised I had started an internal monologue about this, and it wasn’t in the form of Murray Walker as you might expect. No – I was being commentated-on by Richard Burton, from Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds. My GL had morphed into HMS Thunderchild, and the martians were now the artics. I can’t recall how it all went but as daft as I sounded even to myself, it carried on for hours. I hadn’t spoken with anyone apart from receptionists and a couple of phone calls for days, and I drive without music or radio. I like being lost in my own head – and I even mentioned this on a Facebook post to my friends and family, one of whom added that he probably wouldn’t like being lost in my head to which I replied he’d probably need a hazmat suit.
After about two and a half hours of this, the Skoda ahead of me came up behind an artic going our way, and we slowed to a more decent pace for a while before he overtook the artic and left me contemplating reasons why I didn’t follow.
I didn’t want to press my luck.
The rest of the journey was slow and fast at various intervals, but it was consistently long. There were no motorways today, and the roads were similar to an English B-road – for over 400 miles.
I arrived at my Hotel in the dark (for the past two and a half hours), and slipped & slid across the un-cleared ice outside the entrance. It’s a small guest house thing tonight, with no dinner available, and I can’t be bothered to go out, so I’m hoping I’ll be in the mood for breakfast tomorrow.
The GL is HMS Thunderchild, by the way. An ironclad warship of a car.
Edited by Watchman on Tuesday 11th February 20:39
Truckosaurus said:
Looks a good trip. I had a V8 GL as a random rental car in the States a few years ago. That certainly didn't get 30mpg.
I imagine that one was a petrol fueled V8? I have considered a GL63 when I eventually chop my current GL in but I don't think I would ever do a road trip like this in one. Although my usual 24mpg might give many people cause for concern, it's actually the most economical car I've ever owned. But at half that mpg, the GL63 might make me stop and consider whether a trip is worthwhile.Love the noise and drama though.
longblackcoat said:
Loving the write-up. I’ve done similar trips (OK, not quite as long, but 750+ miles per day) in a GL420, and it really is exactly the right car for it. Power, space, and a feeling that it’s waaaaay more capable than anything else you can throw at it.
(I found that the ride was massively better with 19” wheels, by the way)
I tried to find a GL450 when I was looking for this one but none were available that weren't already really leggy. They obviously didn't sell many to begin with.(I found that the ride was massively better with 19” wheels, by the way)
It's kind of a shame but this one isn't a bad performer and can be remapped to a shade over 300bhp if I were bothered.
My next car will almost certainly be another GL350 but this one is good for a few years more yet. It's only done 87K miles.
mikeiow said:
vaud said:
OP, take a break, even if it is a lower mileage day.
.....but do pay heed to this! Multiple crazy flat out driving days are not good for you!!Watchman said:
And, look at the time. 3am again [sigh]. 
Especially combined with low sleep. Seriously OP, it won't do your concentration / reaction times any good!NormalWisdom said:
Great thread - Mrs Wisdom fears it has reawakened a similar desire of mine!
Tell me about it. One thing I wondered about was doing a similar trip right up to Nordkapp, hopefully chasing the Northern Lights and then for part of the return trip have a rest on one of the Hurtigruten cruise ships which also carry a few vehicles.FiF said:
Tell me about it. One thing I wondered about was doing a similar trip right up to Nordkapp, hopefully chasing the Northern Lights and then for part of the return trip have a rest on one of the Hurtigruten cruise ships which also carry a few vehicles .
Done that on one of the proper old working ferries - awesome experience and will do again before I pop off but maybe in a car and not on a motorbike this time.Day 5 – Wednesday 12th Feb 2020
Mo I Rana (Norway) – Arctic Circle Visitor Centre (Norway 66.33) – Sundsvall (Sweden)
511 miles / 10 hours 27 mins
Average 49mph / 28.8mpg
Diesel 71.43 litres / NOK1122.88 / £94.16
I woke up hungry, at 3am. Actually, I woke up because I’m in my 50’s and that sort of thing is a regular occurrence now. But I was hungry however I managed to go back to sleep – despite the fluffy but insubstantial pillows. I had managed to scrunch one up enough that I slept very soundly.
I still woke up earlier than my alarm, so I got ready and loaded the car, returning to have breakfast and check-out.
I plotted a course past a Circle K fuel station, but struggled to get out of the town. Overnight it had snowed, and the streets just weren’t visible. Although streets were lined with the output of the ploughs, not all streets were traffic streets. Some were for cars but some were for people and cycles. Mrs Google wanted to take me down streets that someone had barricade with snow, forcing me to turn around, and then she took me onto a filter lane I was certain was for cycles only – but I went with it because it was still so early that few people were out and about.
At the Circle K, I bought a sandwich for later, as well as two choc doughnuts, more water, and more screen wash (the 3rd gallon container since setting out). Then I aimed the battleship for the Arctic Circle Visitor Centre, about an hour away.
The roads out of Mo I Rana weren’t roads anymore. There was no road surface visible. In fact, it was at least an inch beneath the ice I was rumbling over. And yet, there was traction. The ice was so cold, there was no layer of water making it slippery. And about a mile outside the town, I was able to open up the throttle… no, diesels don’t have a throttle. Whatever, I pushed on.
I found myself acutely aware of the environment – a 2.5 tonne tank on non-studded winter tyres, making progress along ice covered roads, and yet it was all fine. The car actually had good solid grip. As I was the only person on this road, I braked tested the road surface a few times, and each time the car pulled up sharply, without the ABS kicking-in. I did it in a parking bay at the side of the road, so I could get out and take a pic of the tread.
I was starting to really enjoy this.
There must be skiing locations or other winter sports en route because the signs indicated something like that but I couldn't understand the language.
And still there were no other cars.
Every so often a martian/artic would blast past – literally blast past. The wake of air and the cloud of snow made me hold me breath each time, even though this road was wider than yesterdays.
One artic had snow chains on its driven wheels – that’s the very first time I’ve seen them at all this week.
Anyway, the hour to the Visitor Centre went very quickly and I suddenly found myself there.
The entrance had been ploughed only to about 50 feet from the main road, so I could pull-in and turn around, but I couldn’t get any closer. I wasn’t expecting it to open based upon people’s on-line complaints about the centre, but I had thought I’d be able to park a little closer. Never mind, the writing on the roof is visible in my pictures, so that’s all I really cared about. Proof that I was there..!!
That was it really – the point of the trip was to go somewhere I’d seen Harry Metcalfe go in his £4K 1969 Rolls Royce. I took in the Atlantic ocean road as well – something unique to my trip – but having got to the Arctic Circle, taken some pictures, and made a video for my family, it was time to head south again.
To head south, I had to head further north – about another 20 miles, then hook around to the right, through another long tunnel, through an abandoned customs post, and into Sweden. Actually into the mountains region of Sweden.
Which. Was. Amazing.
White everywhere. Totally reduced colour palette. Absolutely no evidence that there is a road surface beneath me – just a ploughed indentation lined with red sticks hammered into the edges.
And still I had traction. Some of the roads were arrow-straight for miles, so I let the speed creep upwards and upwards. I nudged 90mph at one point but generally sat at about 70. I slowed right down for the corners yet I didn’t once feel the behemoth drift or its steering lighten.
Through the twisties, I slowed to about 40, and then I spotted something ahead that made me smile and reach for my camera.
I just need to find the man in the red suit now.
There are signs everywhere advising you to watch out for reindeer and moose/elk (which is which?... and why do all three animals have troublesome plurals?) and I was very conscious of this all day. When I say I hit those high speeds, it really was with acres of visibility all around me. When the trees were closer to the roadside edge, I drove much slower, anticipating one of those beauties running out on me.
Anyway, that was it really. I drove for 370 miles before I saw any actual road surface, and even then it was another 90 miles before the lane I was in was totally clear of it – although right up to the Hotel this evening, the roads are lined with snow.
Tonight’s Hotel is a nice one, so I’ve rewarded myself with a couple of beers – the first this week.
I’m not sure there will be much to report going forward. I’ll keep posting the stats for consistency but tomorrow’s journey is more perfunctory, it having no real purpose other than to take me home.
There is another Oresund crossing the day after, which I’m looking forward to, but after that it’ll be warp speeds on the autobahns as I’m homeward bound.
By the way, this isn't the coldest I've seen today - I saw it hit -13.5 at one point but didn't bother to take a pic.
Mo I Rana (Norway) – Arctic Circle Visitor Centre (Norway 66.33) – Sundsvall (Sweden)
511 miles / 10 hours 27 mins
Average 49mph / 28.8mpg
Diesel 71.43 litres / NOK1122.88 / £94.16
I woke up hungry, at 3am. Actually, I woke up because I’m in my 50’s and that sort of thing is a regular occurrence now. But I was hungry however I managed to go back to sleep – despite the fluffy but insubstantial pillows. I had managed to scrunch one up enough that I slept very soundly.
I still woke up earlier than my alarm, so I got ready and loaded the car, returning to have breakfast and check-out.
I plotted a course past a Circle K fuel station, but struggled to get out of the town. Overnight it had snowed, and the streets just weren’t visible. Although streets were lined with the output of the ploughs, not all streets were traffic streets. Some were for cars but some were for people and cycles. Mrs Google wanted to take me down streets that someone had barricade with snow, forcing me to turn around, and then she took me onto a filter lane I was certain was for cycles only – but I went with it because it was still so early that few people were out and about.
At the Circle K, I bought a sandwich for later, as well as two choc doughnuts, more water, and more screen wash (the 3rd gallon container since setting out). Then I aimed the battleship for the Arctic Circle Visitor Centre, about an hour away.
The roads out of Mo I Rana weren’t roads anymore. There was no road surface visible. In fact, it was at least an inch beneath the ice I was rumbling over. And yet, there was traction. The ice was so cold, there was no layer of water making it slippery. And about a mile outside the town, I was able to open up the throttle… no, diesels don’t have a throttle. Whatever, I pushed on.
I found myself acutely aware of the environment – a 2.5 tonne tank on non-studded winter tyres, making progress along ice covered roads, and yet it was all fine. The car actually had good solid grip. As I was the only person on this road, I braked tested the road surface a few times, and each time the car pulled up sharply, without the ABS kicking-in. I did it in a parking bay at the side of the road, so I could get out and take a pic of the tread.
I was starting to really enjoy this.
There must be skiing locations or other winter sports en route because the signs indicated something like that but I couldn't understand the language.
And still there were no other cars.
Every so often a martian/artic would blast past – literally blast past. The wake of air and the cloud of snow made me hold me breath each time, even though this road was wider than yesterdays.
One artic had snow chains on its driven wheels – that’s the very first time I’ve seen them at all this week.
Anyway, the hour to the Visitor Centre went very quickly and I suddenly found myself there.
The entrance had been ploughed only to about 50 feet from the main road, so I could pull-in and turn around, but I couldn’t get any closer. I wasn’t expecting it to open based upon people’s on-line complaints about the centre, but I had thought I’d be able to park a little closer. Never mind, the writing on the roof is visible in my pictures, so that’s all I really cared about. Proof that I was there..!!
That was it really – the point of the trip was to go somewhere I’d seen Harry Metcalfe go in his £4K 1969 Rolls Royce. I took in the Atlantic ocean road as well – something unique to my trip – but having got to the Arctic Circle, taken some pictures, and made a video for my family, it was time to head south again.
To head south, I had to head further north – about another 20 miles, then hook around to the right, through another long tunnel, through an abandoned customs post, and into Sweden. Actually into the mountains region of Sweden.
Which. Was. Amazing.
White everywhere. Totally reduced colour palette. Absolutely no evidence that there is a road surface beneath me – just a ploughed indentation lined with red sticks hammered into the edges.
And still I had traction. Some of the roads were arrow-straight for miles, so I let the speed creep upwards and upwards. I nudged 90mph at one point but generally sat at about 70. I slowed right down for the corners yet I didn’t once feel the behemoth drift or its steering lighten.
Through the twisties, I slowed to about 40, and then I spotted something ahead that made me smile and reach for my camera.
I just need to find the man in the red suit now.
There are signs everywhere advising you to watch out for reindeer and moose/elk (which is which?... and why do all three animals have troublesome plurals?) and I was very conscious of this all day. When I say I hit those high speeds, it really was with acres of visibility all around me. When the trees were closer to the roadside edge, I drove much slower, anticipating one of those beauties running out on me.
Anyway, that was it really. I drove for 370 miles before I saw any actual road surface, and even then it was another 90 miles before the lane I was in was totally clear of it – although right up to the Hotel this evening, the roads are lined with snow.
Tonight’s Hotel is a nice one, so I’ve rewarded myself with a couple of beers – the first this week.
I’m not sure there will be much to report going forward. I’ll keep posting the stats for consistency but tomorrow’s journey is more perfunctory, it having no real purpose other than to take me home.
There is another Oresund crossing the day after, which I’m looking forward to, but after that it’ll be warp speeds on the autobahns as I’m homeward bound.
By the way, this isn't the coldest I've seen today - I saw it hit -13.5 at one point but didn't bother to take a pic.
Edited by Watchman on Wednesday 19th February 20:09
Epic thread, really glad you're sharing the trip 
Good, Bad, Mad.
Re Mad. I've done a reasonable amount of driving in Sweden, Norway and Finland, but all in a truck. The best for me was an overnighter we did on the Rolling Stones tour where we had to get from Oslo too Bergen. Its a fair nights work, as approx. 555 km's from memory and all single carriageway. There is def an art form too 2 trucks passing each other on this route with both keeping their mirrors intact
Good, Bad, Mad.
Re Mad. I've done a reasonable amount of driving in Sweden, Norway and Finland, but all in a truck. The best for me was an overnighter we did on the Rolling Stones tour where we had to get from Oslo too Bergen. Its a fair nights work, as approx. 555 km's from memory and all single carriageway. There is def an art form too 2 trucks passing each other on this route with both keeping their mirrors intact
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