As a firefighter, I work shifts, four days on and four days off. This gives me a big time advantage when I have time with my daughter.

We’ve attended playdates, craft and toy swap days together – and despite online depictions of a more equal world, I’m usually the only dad in attendance.

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 nurture our bond, so I decided to plan a trip – just for the two of us.

Since we are English, I thought it best to stay in Europe, even though I had already traveled to Japan twice with my wife and daughter. (I admit, a long-haul flight without her mother was a scary prospect).

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

We left for Manchester Airport much earlier than necessary, which ended up giving us more time to play eye spy and talk to people in the terminal. My child’s confidence and cuteness acted as an icebreaker and we came into contact with many more people than I would have if I had traveled alone.

I tactically booked an airport hotel to make our first night in Bergen a little more pleasant. But we both arrived full of energy. When the lights went out, she fell asleep almost immediately while I lay awake. I was now the excited child, excited for the journey ahead.

The next day we took the train into the city center – and I knew that Norway was the right choice. The tunnels and breathtaking topography were rivaled only by the people.

My daughter exudes a self-confidence that I hope she never loses. She gave a thumbs up sign to locals on the platforms at every stop and always received a reciprocated gesture and a smile. She quickly moved on to the two-handed love heart sign that reflected a young Norwegian couple. After successfully melting enough real hearts, she turned back to the coloring book the hotel concierge 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 street intersections, the proliferation of 7-Eleven supermarkets, the reserved but friendly people, subtle and sophisticated fashion choices, great customer service, delicious food and much more the unrestricted friendliness towards children.

“In Norwegian culture, children come first,” a mother told me at VilVite, a children’s science museum in Bergen. We had talked about how impressive the museum was for children and how the staff at every turn were interested in improving the children’s learning experience. The museum opened 17 years ago and looked brand new. Since the exhibitions change regularly, local parents keep coming back.

As we talked, my daughter was playing with other kids, building Lego cars to test them on a wavy wooden track that she ended up smashing into pieces.

Raising children in Norway is different from raising children in England. There is a monthly cap on childcare costs, which encourages both parents to work and promotes gender equality in the workforce. Children don’t start school until they are six years old, which means they have more time with the family. Due to the country’s low crime rate, it is common for children to walk alone to school or to other family members’ homes – another similarity to Japan.

Our trip was guided by loose plans, and I let my child lead the way as much as possible. We ate pancakes at the harbor and laughed at the loud honks of nearby cruise ships. We took the funicular to the top of Mount Fløyen, hiked to a lake and glided over rocks along the water. Along the way we saw cairns, small piles of stones that usually mark an important point. My daughter insisted on making her own stuffed animal to honor one of her favorite stuffed animals.

We spent the rest of our getaway exploring the cobbled streets and alleys of the safe and quiet city, often snapping photos of eclectic street art. Our walk took us to a toy store, parks, an ice cream shop, a fire station, and a large church with a practicing choir inside.

On our last evening together, we sat on our hotel bed, me with a reindeer hot dog and my daughter with a box of leftover pizza. She watched children’s programs on television and it didn’t bother her that she couldn’t understand a word.

This was an unplanned and simple moment and I will cherish this memory forever. We were both content and fulfilled from a day of father-daughter adventures with no responsibilities or thoughts about the future.

No matter how spontaneous you may be, as a parent you will inevitably get caught up in a routine. Even “having fun” can involve unwritten guidelines, worries, and planning.

That’s why it’s important that we can truly enjoy our children – a time when we forget about work, household chores, bills and everything else that can put a strain on life. Exploring new territory, solving problems and having fun together, 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.