NIX // NORDIC DRIFT

There are road trips.

And then there are the journeys that start occupying your head months before the engine even starts.

Nordic Drift is already becoming one of those.

Next May, Vanilla will point her nose north and begin what could become one of the biggest adventures we have ever done together.

Sweden. Norway. Around a month on the road. One campervan. No rush.

Forests.

Fjords.

Snow-covered mountains.

Tiny coastal roads.

Huge skies.

Ferries appearing out of the mist.

Red wooden cottages beside impossibly still lakes.

And mile after mile of road disappearing towards the horizon.

This is:

And I genuinely cannot wait.

I don’t want Nordic Drift to become a military operation involving spreadsheets, stopwatch arrivals and twenty-seven campsites booked before I’ve even crossed the North Sea.

That isn’t the point.

There will obviously be a route.

There will be places I absolutely want to see.

There will be ferries to catch, supplies to think about and sensible planning to do.

But fundamentally, I want this trip to have room to breathe.

If somewhere is incredible, stay another night.

If the weather turns horrible, move.

If a road disappears between two mountains and looks interesting…

Turn down it.

Vanilla is exactly the sort of vehicle that makes that possible.

Big enough to be comfortable.

Small enough to explore.

And completely self-contained when I find somewhere that makes me think:

Yep. We’re staying here tonight.

FIRST STOP: SWEDEN 🇸🇪

Sweden feels like the perfect way to enter Scandinavia.

After the long haul north through mainland Europe and Denmark, the landscape should begin to change.

The roads open up.

Traffic thins.

Forests begin to stretch towards the horizon.

Lakes appear everywhere.

And suddenly the whole pace of the trip changes.

This isn’t about tearing through Sweden simply to reach Norway.

Sweden is part of Nordic Drift.

I want lakeside stops.

Forests.

Small towns.

Photography.

Coffee stops.

Long evenings.

Imagine it.

Vanilla parked beside a Swedish lake.

Sliding door open.

Coffee on.

No traffic.

No timetable.

Forest reflected perfectly in the water.

Possibly one Scandinavian mosquito the size of a DJI drone attempting an unauthorised landing inside the van.

You can’t have everything.

WATCH: CAMPERVAN ROAD TRIP THROUGH SWEDEN

A brilliant look at a proper camper journey through Sweden, taking in lakes, national parks, cities and the long open roads that make Scandinavian travel look so tempting.

The temptation when looking at Scandinavia on a map is immediately to start chasing the Arctic Circle.

North.

North.

North.

NORTH.

But I don’t want Nordic Drift to become thirty days of looking through Vanilla’s windscreen thinking only about the next 300 miles.

The kilometres are part of the adventure.

If somewhere looks good, stop.

If a road looks interesting, investigate it.

If somewhere deserves another night, stay.

There is no trophy for getting there first.

Eventually Sweden gives way to Norway.

And this is where Nordic Drift moves up another gear.

Norway has some of the most spectacular driving roads anywhere in Europe.

Fjords.

Mountains.

Waterfalls.

Bridges.

Ferries.

Coastal roads.

High mountain passes.

Entire roads that exist almost as attractions in their own right.

That sounds suspiciously like somewhere Vanilla needs to investigate.

This is the bit I keep imagining.

Vanilla.

Indium Grey.

Her new wheels underneath her.

A tiny campervan against an absolutely enormous Norwegian landscape.

Mountains rising almost vertically from a fjord.

Waterfalls dropping hundreds of metres.

Snow still sitting on the peaks.

A twisting road disappearing around the side of a mountain.

And that wonderfully simple thought:

We’re actually here.

Norway isn’t somewhere I want to hurry through.

I want to drive it.

Stop.

Look.

Photograph it.

Film it.

Sit beside it.

Wake up in it.

And occasionally just stand somewhere completely speechless.

Names are already appearing on the Nordic Drift radar.

Geiranger.

Atlantic Road.

Sognefjellet.

Lofoten.

Senja.

Some may make the final route.

Some may not.

That’s deliberate.

This trip needs flexibility.

Norway is a country where the road itself can become the destination.

One minute you’re following a fjord.

The next you’re climbing into snow.

Then you’re boarding a ferry.

Then you’re crossing a bridge that looks as though somebody designed it purely because they could.

This is not motorway travel.

This is adventure driving.

WATCH: NORWAY BY MOTORHOME

This Norway motorhome trip covers places including Stavanger, Preikestolen, Odda, Olden, Geiranger, Ålesund, the Atlantic Road and Bergen.

It is exactly the sort of video that makes you open Google Maps immediately afterwards.

Travelling in May adds another dimension to Nordic Drift.

Norway will be emerging from winter.

The days will be getting dramatically longer.

Snow will still sit high on the mountains.

Waterfalls will be running hard with meltwater.

Spring may be well underway in the south while winter is still refusing to leave farther north.

That sounds perfect.

One morning could be sunshine beside a fjord.

The next could involve opening Vanilla’s blind and discovering somebody has apparently turned the entire world white overnight.

Scandinavia doesn’t need to behave.

That’s part of the appeal.

FOLLOW THE WEATHER, NOT THE CLOCK

May also means mountain roads could still be affected by snow.

Some high routes may be open.

Others may not.

And I am absolutely fine with that.

Nordic Drift won’t depend on one particular road being available.

If somewhere is closed, we turn around.

If the weather changes, the route changes.

If conditions farther north look miserable, we stay south.

Instead of forcing Norway to fit my itinerary, the itinerary will fit Norway.

Road closed?

Fine.

Find another road.

There are worse problems to have in one of the most beautiful countries on Earth.

Over the years Vanilla has steadily evolved.

Better power.

Better solar.

Better monitoring.

Better camping equipment.

Better communications.

And now the new wheel and tyre setup.

Piece by piece she has become less like a converted Transporter and more like my little expedition vehicle.

Nordic Drift feels like the adventure where all of that finally comes together.

There will be nights on campsites.

There will undoubtedly be occasional comfortable stops.

But I also want those independent nights.

Parked legally somewhere remote.

Fridge quietly humming.

Battery healthy.

Solar waiting for the morning.

Webasto keeping the chill outside.

Something cooking.

Door cracked open.

Mountains outside.

That, to me, is campervan travel.

The new solar setup makes the trip even more exciting.

Scandinavia in late spring means wonderfully long daylight hours.

Not endless blazing sunshine, obviously.

Norway hasn’t secretly relocated to Spain.

But long days give Vanilla’s solar system plenty of opportunity to work while we are parked up.

The dream is simple.

Drive.

Explore.

Stop somewhere beautiful.

Stay.

Move when I want to move.

Not because I desperately need a hook-up.

That is freedom measured in amp-hours.

THE CAMERA BAG IS GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN

Then there is the photography.

Norway and Sweden almost feel engineered for cameras.

Forests.

Bridges.

Fjords.

Waterfalls.

Fishing villages.

Cabins.

Mountains.

Reflections.

Coastlines.

Vanilla disappearing down empty roads.

There will be photography.

There will be video.

There will be action-camera footage.

There will be drone footage wherever flying is legal, sensible and permitted.

And I suspect there will be an absolutely ridiculous quantity of data by the time Vanilla gets home.

This isn’t going to be a holiday that produces twelve photographs.

This could become one of the defining NIX photographic adventures.

WATCH: SWEDEN + NORWAY BY CAMPERVAN

A 5,000 km campervan journey through Sweden and Norway.

This one is particularly dangerous viewing because suddenly Nordic Drift stops feeling like an idea.

It starts feeling very real.

I don’t want Nordic Drift judged by how many famous locations get ticked off.

If I reach Lofoten, brilliant.

If weather or time says otherwise, there will be another fjord.

Another mountain.

Another road.

Another adventure.

The target isn’t a pin on a map.

The target is coming home thinking:

That was extraordinary.

That is the difference between travelling through a country and actually experiencing it.

There is one particular image that keeps appearing in my mind.

Early morning.

Somewhere in Norway.

Vanilla parked beside the water.

The heater has taken the chill out of the van.

Sliding door opens.

Cold Scandinavian air rushes inside.

Coffee in hand.

Absolutely still water ahead.

Mountains reflected in it.

No engine noise.

No neighbours.

No rush.

Just Vanilla and me somewhere a very long way north of Stafford.

And the only important decision is:

Which direction today?

That is Nordic Drift.

Nothing is carved into granite yet, but the shape of the adventure is emerging.

UK → mainland Europe → Denmark → Sweden → Norway → fjords → mountains → Atlantic coast → wherever curiosity takes Vanilla → home.

The exact line will evolve.

Weather will change it.

Road conditions will change it.

Interesting discoveries will definitely change it.

And that’s precisely how I want it.

Because the moment every hour of an adventure has been scheduled, it stops being quite so adventurous.

May 2027 still feels a long way away.

But trips like this start before departure day.

They start with maps.

Videos.

Ideas.

A saved location.

Then another.

A ferry search.

A photograph.

A conversation.

Suddenly there are dozens of pins covering Scandinavia and I’m wondering whether a month is remotely enough.

Probably not.

But that’s half the fun.

There will always be another road.

One van.

Two extraordinary countries.

Thousands of kilometres.

No ordinary road trip.

May 2027.

Vanilla is going north.