Oslo

#northerneurope Highlights: Oslo unfolded with quiet poise a city of clean lines and deep woods, where fjord light danced off glass façades and silence felt like intention. It didn’t rush to impress; it simply was. Mornings began with mist curling over the harbor, ferries slipping past the Opera House like whispers. The building itself rose like an iceberg sharp, pale, and climbable inviting us to walk its roof and watch the city breathe. In Vigeland Park, bronze figures stretched and tumbled, frozen in motion, raw and human. Locals passed by on bikes, unbothered by the sculptures or the tourists photographing them. The city didn’t stare it nodded and moved on. We wandered Grünerløkka, where indie bookstores sat beside tattoo parlors and cafés served cinnamon buns the size of plates. It felt like Oslo’s pulse casual but curated, with a kind of Nordic cool that didn’t need to prove itself. At night, the sky held onto its light just a little too long. We stood by the water, watching trams slide past and reflections shiver in the fjord. Oslo didn’t blaze it glowed, softly, like something meant to last.