From there, we wandered the streets, through a colourful (in several senses of the word) square, until we reached the harbour. We stopped in for a coffee and some pastries (a tasty cinnamon bun and a custard filled pastry) at Baker Brun, which was apparently established in 1893. Caffeinated and sugared-up nicely, we set out to explore the harbour around the bay of Vågen. Bryggen (Old Town) lines the waterfront with cute and brightly coloured buildings.

It was an early start, as we had an 8 am train to catch. However, it was convenient to get down to the train station. We grabbed some sandwiches from a deli for breakfast and hopped on our first train of the day. I'd booked us on a Norway in a Nutshell tour, which isn't a "tour" in the traditional sense with tour guides and a group that you follow around but simply arranged transport from one place to another. We spent about 4.5 hours on a train from Oslo to Myrdal, a relaxing ride through the countryside, passing colourful farm houses, frozen lakes and streams and through Hallingskarvet National Park--an expansive snow-covered plateau.

It was another slow-going start, as D was eager to return to Tim Wendelboe for another taste of their coffee. We meandered our way down in time for them to open, and he had another double hit of coffee with an aeropress and a double espresso, which were both thoroughly delicious. Happily caffeinated, we headed off to catch a tram to see the Viking Ship Museum. No good trip to Norway would truly be complete without some kind of Viking fun.

We were fairly leisurely in getting going, as our first stop was a renowned coffee shop, Tim Wendelboe, which opened at 11 am. Thankfully, it was only a relatively short walk away, and we rolled in right as it opened. Perhaps the most striking thing we noticed right off the bat was it wasn’t really set up as a coffee shop, as there were only a handful of chairs. Ultimately, the space was roaster-oriented, with a coffee shop attached in order to showcase the beans. D ordered an aeropress of their Ethiopian beans. He declared it to be the best aeropress he’d ever had–light bodied, tangy, tart but sweet.

One of the major disadvantages to staying at a hostel is that it tends to attract certain crowd of folk, some of which like to return to the hostel at 3 am and hang out in the hallway to have protracted, boisterous conversations. Such was the occasion last night, which made for not ideal sleeping conditions. We groggily got our things together and opted to take a cab back to Central Station to make life easier, which also had the perk of giving us a bit more time. We grabbed a quick bite for breakfast and headed out to catch our train to Oslo.

It was another leisurely start for us, perhaps the lingering aftereffects of our hefty meal last night, though D was able to put in a bit of work before we left for the day. We had planned to go to the National Museum; however, a quick check of their website determined that they had closed for extensive renovations (I think within the last couple of weeks) and wouldn’t re-open until 2017, though they would have a temporary exhibition somewhere in June. As a result, I had no major plans for the day other than to explore some of the other islands surrounding Gamla Stan.

I thought that we’d gotten off to a nice early start when D and I both woke up around 7 am. We puttered around for a bit, but it wasn’t long before a quick “closing of the eyes” turned into a couple of hours. As a result, it wasn’t until 11 am until we got ourselves out the door. Apparently, Scandinavia is wild about great coffee, and as such, there are a number of boutique coffee roasters and coffee shops to choose from. Naturally, we had to try one out, so we headed off in search of Drop Coffee in Södermalm, what’s apparently a very bohemian, trendy district of Stockholm.

It was short ride to the central station in Stockholm, and we were soon off the shuttle bus, getting our bearings. A couple of years of extensive smartphone map use has apparently made us less competent at deciphering maps. We ended up dragging our bags on those snowy, gravel-strewn sidewalks in the completely the wrong direction before finally turning around and taking a somewhat circuitous route in the right direction. When we finally circled back to the other end of the central station. Tired from dragging our luggage around, we ultimately just hopped in a pricey cab to take us over to our hotel.

We headed downstairs to a nearby boulangerie to pick up our breakfast, and D made a pit stop for coffee. We were soon on the metro, headed to Ile-de-la-Cité to get a glimpse at Notre Dame. We had both seen it, of course, but we thought it would be nice to have another look. There was some talk of going inside, but as we approached the square, we prudently decided against it, as the queue out the door was ridiculously long.

Once we were all loaded up, and amusedly after our hostess had warned us of the dangers of pickpockets and the like in Paris, we headed northward. It had been raining fairly heavily in the early morning, complete with thunder and lightning, but it had thankfully stopped by the time we left. We listened to tunes and enjoyed the scenery and gradually made our way back to Paris. We opted to take the A highway (a toll road), but they were wider and faster and made our drive a little less stressful.

I desperately wanted to avoid major crowds at our final chateau, so I was determined to get there before 10 am. We largely kept to schedule and were soon cruising towards Chateau de Chambord. It wasn’t long before we entered the Parc du Chambord, apparently the largest enclosed game reserve in France with red deer and wild boar wandering about.