North to Norway: Europe by Motorcycle, from South to North
by Stephen Oliver
NORTH TO NORWAY
Stephen Oliver's latest book North To Norway come to life as he starts his next chapter BY collecting his new NT1100 from Vertu Honda. Grab North To Norway today and ride pillion on an epic adventure across Europe!
Who’s Writing?
Stephen Oliver is a Derbyshire-based travel blogger and author. He started his motorcycle career on a humble Honda C90 and worked his way up through a Vespa 125, Honda’s Forza and NC750X before landing on his NT1100DCT. He had a long career in brewing and began touring Europe seriously once he retired. An ‘adventure pony’, according to his wife, he’s been a flying instructor and mountain leader. He has climbed all the high mountains in the UK and Ireland. He speaks several languages and finds that the bike offers opportunities for mingling with locals that four wheels never would. His latest addition to the stable is a Honda GB350S.
His first book ‘North to Norway’ was published in March 2025 (available on Amazon in paperback and e-book) and his blog below:
Why Write a Book?
For years, writing and journaling have been a personal pleasure. My discovery of Substack a few years ago led to the creation of my blog, ‘Words and Wheels,’ where I chronicled my journey to Nordkapp. Inspired by epic motorcycling adventures and authors like Ted Simon, Sam Manicom, and Geoff Hill, who have provided me with countless hours of off-bike entertainment, the idea of writing my own book took hold. That book, North to Norway, a year-long endeavour and one of my toughest challenges, is now published. Looking ahead, I'm planning a second book following the next stage of Ralph's and my quest to reach all four corners of Europe. This summer will see us heading to Cabo da Roca in Portugal, the westernmost point. In 2026, I'll be taking my NT1100 to eastern Finland, the mainland EU's easternmost edge, returning via the Baltic States to experience life near the Russian border.
The Bike
My Honda NT1100 DCT was the perfect companion for devouring the trip’s 7,015miles. Cruise control was a crucial aid in sticking to Norway's speed limits. The spacious panniers and top box swallowed all my gear with room to spare. The DCT meant I could concentrate on the road and scenery. It makes for relaxed riding. The parking brake is a necessary quirk of the DCT, as you can't leave it in gear. Unfortunately, I learned this the hard way, riding a short distance with it engaged after a ferry disembarkation. The result? Worn pads and a detour to a Honda dealer in Gothenburg. I carried a jerry can of fuel for the Far North. Never used it. I’ve just upgraded it to the 2025 DCT ES model for my next adventures.
Retirement sparked my current biking ambition: collecting Europe's extreme cardinal points. The grand plan began with Tarifa, Andalusia, Europe's southernmost tip, a stone's throw from Africa. From there, my Honda NT1100 would traverse Mallorca’s Tramontana mountains before a 180º turn towards Nordkapp, the Arctic Circle's northernmost lure.
Leaving Santander, I rode south through central Spain's heat into the España vacÃa, a melancholic landscape emptied by urban migration. I explored Segovia's Roman aqueduct, ancient villages, Civil War sites, and imposing castles, the adventure growing with each kilometre.
Córdoba's unique mosque-cathedral, the Mezquita, was sublime, making the trip worthwhile. Reluctantly, I remounted after a parador stay, the 42º heat overwhelming even vented gear.
Smooth progress ended near Marchena. A slick roundabout sent bike and me crashing, resulting in a battered Honda, broken ribs, and a roundabout phobia. A local helped; the bike was rideable, but pristine no more. Rib pain became a constant reminder.
My winding route led to Jerez and Cadiz before Tarifa. Standing at Europe's southern edge, gazing at Morocco across the Strait of Gibraltar, the 3,500+ miles to Nordkapp felt immense. Days of riding were just the beginning.
Months later, ribs and bike mended, my friend Ralph joined the Norway adventure, his continental touring debut. Ferries from Hull to Rotterdam began our journey, followed by a tiring ride to Bremen, my former Beck's Bier workplace. Exhausted after a long day with a detour to Arnhem's WWII museums, we enjoyed a Beck’s in Bremen's charming Schnoorviertel.
We planned to camp in the far north. Lugging gear to our Bremen hotel felt tedious, so we foolishly left it locked to the bikes. Next morning, only cut straps remained. Police offered sympathy and a crime number but little hope. Losing my tent and mountaineering gear was a bitter blow. Behind schedule for Copenhagen (the Puttgarden-Rødby ferry a shortcut), we opted for lodges and guesthouses.
Leaving Bremen, the magnificent Øresund Bridge beckoned, a bridge-island-tunnel blend, a fitting gateway to Sweden. Excitement filled the air as we turned north. Our initial stop was Gothenburg, via scenic coastal roads lined with lupins. We embraced 'fika' in charming fishing villages: coffee, cake, and quiet moments.
Oslo offered a fascinating, expensive glimpse into Norwegian city life. At our guesthouse, manoeuvring my bike into a small courtyard, a dog darted out. Braking sharply, I avoided the dog but wedged my bike at a precarious angle, shattering the windscreen and spraining my wrist. A close call, highlighting travel's unexpected challenges. A quick dealership visit (second repair after a brake issue) got us moving again.
The northbound journey to Trondheim was breathtaking, the scenery increasingly dramatic. We crossed a frozen high plain with towering snowbanks before tackling the dizzying Trollstigen hairpin bends. The Atlantic Road was jaw-dropping: eight kilometres of bridges, causeways, and islands, a highlight of Norway's stunning coast. We plunged into Europe's deepest tunnel, crossed the Arctic Circle, and reached Bodø, gateway to the Lofoten Islands.
After a couple of days exploring this picturesque archipelago, we continued via ferries and coastal roads.
Tromsø, our last major city, featured the Arctic Cathedral and Mack's Brewery, the world's northernmost. As keen brewers, Ralph and I enjoyed their wares, despite the price. Sobered, we continued to Alta and then Nordkapp.
The landscape flattened, becoming barren and windswept. Reaching Nordkapp, the culmination of my Tarifa journey, was emotional. At the iconic globe sculpture, a lump formed in our throats. We hugged, congratulating each other. A trip of a lifetime. I glanced at my dependable Honda amidst BMW GS’s. I couldn’t have chosen a better bike to tour on.
We headed to Kirkenes, on the Russian border, through vast Finnish forests plagued by mosquitos. Kirkenes, largely rebuilt post-WWII, felt quiet. We rode to the locked border gates. The silence was eerie; our UK/Ukraine solidarity stickers noted by dour-looking Russian border guards.
The next day, we boarded the Hurtigruten coastal express, 'Richard With,' our relaxing southward return, offering a new perspective on Norway's coast. Five days later, we disembarked in Bergen, heading for Kristiansand.
Our final ferry took us overnight to Emden, northern Germany. From there, a gruelling slog to Rotterdam in appalling weather, battling trucks on the motorway. Scandinavia's tranquillity felt distant. But our mission was complete; safe return was our priority.
Over a beer, Ralph and I reflected. An unforgettable experience, strengthening our friendship and highlighting Europe's motorcycle touring joys. Landing in Hull, we were already planning our next adventures: the western and eastern points awaited. Two down, two to go.
Over a beer, Ralph and I reflected. An unforgettable experience, strengthening our friendship and highlighting Europe's motorcycle touring joys. Landing in Hull, we were already planning our next adventures: the western and eastern points awaited. Two down, two to go.
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