I work shifts, four days on four days off, as a firefighter. This gives me a huge advantage in terms of the time I spend with my daughter.

We’ve attended playdates, craft and game sharing sessions together – and despite the online depiction of a more equal world, I’m usually the only parent present.

Maybe that’s why, when my daughter started school, I felt like I was suffering from a mild form of empty nest syndrome. I wanted to strengthen our bond, so I decided to plan a trip – just the two of us.

We’re English, so I thought it would be best to stay in Europe, even though I’ve been to Japan twice with my wife and daughter. (I admit, the long flight without her mother was a scary thought.)

I checked flights, my budget, and travel times that would keep her sleep schedule the same, and narrowed it down to two places: Porto in Portugal or Bergen in Norway. Then I asked my daughter if she wanted to go somewhere hot or cold. To my surprise, she chose cold, so it was Bergen.

We left for Manchester Airport much earlier than we needed to, which gave us more time to play spy and talk to people at the terminal. My baby’s confidence and cuteness were an ice-breaker, and we interacted with so many more people than I would have if I had traveled alone.

I tactically booked an airport hotel to get rid of our first night in Bergen. But we both arrived full of energy. As soon as the lights went out, she fell asleep almost immediately, while I lay awake. I was now the excited kid, excited for our next trip.

The next day, we took the train to the city center, and I already knew that Norway was the right choice. The amazing tunnels and terrain are only matched by people.

My daughter exudes confidence that I hope she never loses. She gave locals “thumbs up” marks on the platforms at each stop, always receiving a reciprocal gesture and a smile in return. It quickly moved on to the two-handed love heart sign, mirrored by a young Norwegian couple. After successfully melting enough real hearts, she went back to the coloring book the hotel receptionist had given her that morning.

From the efficiency of the train to the cleanliness of the city streets, Norway reminded me of Japan.

The similarities to the “Land of the Rising Sun” continued throughout our trip: the funny beeps at road crossings, the proliferation of 7-Eleven convenience stores, the reserved but kind people, the subtle and mature fashion choices, the great customer service, the delicious food and the delicious food. Unconditional kindness to children.

“Children come first in Norwegian culture,” one mother told me at the Velvet Children’s Science Museum in Bergen. We were talking about how much the museum loved the kids, and how the staff in every corner were keen to improve the learning experience for the kids. The museum had been open for 17 years and looked brand new. The exhibits change regularly so local parents keep coming back.

As we talked, my daughter was playing with other kids, building Lego cars to test on an undulating wooden track that eventually smashed them to smithereens.

Raising children in Norway is different from raising them in England. There is a monthly cap on childcare costs, which incentivizes both parents to work and promotes gender equality in the workforce. Children do not start school until they are six years old, which gives them more time in the family unit. The country’s low crime rate means that it is normal for children to go to school or to other family members’ homes alone – another similarity to Japan.

Loose plans guided our trip, and I let my child lead the way as much as possible. We ate pancakes by the port and laughed at the horns of nearby cruise ships. We took a funicular to the top of Mount Fluen, drove to a lake and cleared rocks along the water’s edge. We saw cairns along the way, which are small piles of stones that usually mark a place of interest. My daughter insisted on building her own doll, to honor one of her favorite stuffed animals.

We spent the rest of our short vacation exploring the safe and quiet city’s cobblestone streets and alleys, often taking photos of the eclectic street art. Our wandering took us to a toy store, parks, an ice cream parlor, a fire station, and a large church with a choir practicing inside.

During our last night together, we sat on our hotel bed, me with a reindeer hot dog and my daughter with a box of leftover pizza. She was watching children’s programs on TV, not caring that she couldn’t understand a word.

This was a simple, unplanned moment, and I will cherish this memory forever. We were content and satisfied with a day of father-daughter adventure without any responsibilities or thoughts about the future.

No matter how spontaneous you are, being a parent will inevitably push you into a routine. Even “having fun” can entail unwritten conditions, worry, and planning.

That’s why taking one-on-one time to really enjoy our kids is key — time where we forget about jobs, chores, bills, and anything else that can weigh down life. Exploring new territories, solving problems and having fun as a duo, miles from home, is one of the best experiences I’ve had as a parent.

I wonder if my little four year old will remember this trip when she grows up.

I know I will. I’m already planning our next trip.