A road trip through the Norwegian fjords: Ålesund, Geiranger, Trollstigen and the Atlantic Ocean Road in 7 nights

We landed in Ålesund in the afternoon, picked up the car at the airport itself and, before unpacking at the Hotel Brosundet — a former fishing warehouse turned design hotel on the Brosundet canal, with a maritime charm that already made the trip worth it — we went up to the Mount Aksla viewpoint. You reach it by 418 steps or, as we did, beaten by the tiredness of the flight, by driving all the way up. And then you understand Ålesund in a single glance: a town of little turrets and Art Nouveau façades sprawled over a handful of islands, with the fjords behind it and the July light giving its all at ten at night.

The façades have a lovely, sad reason behind them: Ålesund burned to the ground in 1904 and was rebuilt in just a few years in the style in vogue at the time, Art Nouveau, so today it's one of the most coherent and elegant towns in all of Norway. Walking through its centre means looking up at every turret and every doorway.

That first night we had dinner at XL Diner, an institution by the harbour famous for its cod — the dried, salted klippfisk that made the town rich — and its local seafood. Generous portions, a lively atmosphere and a bill with no surprises, within what Norway is. The perfect welcome after a day of planes.

We gave the second day to the coast, before plunging fully into the fjords. In the morning, the Atlanterhavsparken, a Nordic aquarium spectacularly set right at the edge of the open sea, where you see up close what lives in these cold waters. And in the afternoon, since the car was sitting there itching for action, a getaway to the island of Runde, one of the largest seabird colonies in southern Norway. In summer it fills with puffins, those little birds with colourful beaks that look straight out of a cartoon; watching them return to the cliff at dusk, in their hundreds, was one of those moments we hadn't expected and that stayed with us.

Marta, who plans for everything, had pencilled in Sjøbua for the last dinner of the trip — signature seafood in another converted harbour warehouse, lobster and scallops and the catch of the day — but since the loop ends near Ålesund again, we left it pending for the end. We took that second night slowly in the Art Nouveau old town, which with the white nights makes you want to wander without a watch.

On the third day we swapped the coast for the heart of the trip. The drive towards Geiranger is a spectacle in itself — narrow roads pinned to the rock face, waterfalls tumbling to one side — but the moment is the fjord ferry from Hellesylt to Geiranger: an hour sailing along the Geirangerfjord, a World Heritage Site, with the Seven Sisters waterfalls cascading down the cliffs and the abandoned farms clinging to the impossible parts of the wall. Arriving in Geiranger by water, and not by land, is the way to come in.

The fjord ferries, by the way, are no hassle at all: you pay on board or through the automatic toll system and, except in very specific spots, in summer they don't need booking. They're part of the joy of driving around here.

We stayed at the Hotel Union, a classic mountain hotel above the fjord, with postcard views from the room. As soon as we'd dropped the bags we went up to the Flydalsjuvet viewpoint, the classic Geiranger shot with the fjord opening up below and, if you're lucky, a tiny cruise ship at the back to give the scale. At that height, with the long July light, the silence is broken only by the falling water.

We split the full day in Geiranger into two opposite perspectives of the same fjord. In the morning, kayaking: setting off from the village and paddling close to the wall, beneath the Seven Sisters waterfalls, in front of the hanging farms, is the most intimate way to live it. From the water, at sea level, the walls become enormous and you truly grasp the scale of the place. Marta, who wasn't entirely convinced about the kayak, ended up not wanting to come out.

In the afternoon, the opposite: driving up the toll road to the Dalsnibba viewpoint, at 1,500 metres, with its cantilevered platform (the Geiranger Skywalk) out over the void. The fjord lies far below like a blue thread between mountains still patched with snow in July. The road up is one of those you drive slowly, stopping at every bend.

A very useful note: in Geiranger you have dinner at the hotel, and it's not laziness, it's common sense. The village is small, the options outside are few and expensive, and after a day of kayaking and viewpoints you don't fancy getting back in the car at night. The Union's menu is complete and with fjord views, so we had dinner there without moving.

If I had to keep just one day of driving in my whole life, it would be this one. The route from Geiranger to Åndalsnes goes through Trollstigen, the Trolls' road: eleven hairpin bends climbing a mountain wall between waterfalls, with a cantilevered viewpoint at the top from which you watch the road twist below like a ribbon. You drive it calmly, without rushing and respecting your lane — it's narrow and in summer there's traffic — but every metre is one of those that justifies a whole trip. That's why it's summer-only: in winter it's closed by snow and ice.

On the way we stopped at the Gudbrandsjuvet gorge, a ravine where the river narrows and roars between rock walls, with walkways to lean over. It's a perfect stop to stretch your legs and bring your heart rate down after the bends.

We reached Åndalsnes, the so-called capital of Norwegian mountaineering, at the foot of the Romsdalen valley, and settled into the Grand Hotel Bellevue, a comfortable, unpretentious historic hotel, exactly what the body was asking for after a day like that. Marta drove the descent; I rode shotgun taking photos out of the window, which is my speciality.

We gave the sixth day to the Romsdalen valley, barely touching the car. We rode the Romsdalsgondol cable car up to Mount Nesaksla and, from the top, stepped out onto the cantilevered Rampestreken platform, suspended over Åndalsnes and the valley. There's a café at the summit, so we lingered a good while over a hot chocolate — in July, at that height, it's still chilly — gazing at the town and the fjord far below.

Facing you is the Troll Wall, the Trollveggen, the tallest vertical rock face in Europe: more than a thousand metres of sheer rock that leave anyone speechless. It's one of those views that's hard to fit in your head out of pure scale.

It was a quieter day, the kind you're grateful for halfway through a road trip: no long stages or early starts, just cable car, viewpoint and an aimless wander around Åndalsnes. Recharging the batteries before the last great stretch.

On the last full day we went after the image that kicked off the whole trip: the Atlantic Ocean Road, the Atlanterhavsveien. It's barely eight kilometres hopping between islets along a succession of bridges, and the star is the one at Storseisundet, the so-called "bridge to nowhere": from the angle, as you climb it looks as if the road breaks off abruptly into the air and hurls you into the void. The moment you crest it, of course, it drops down the other side, but the optical illusion is so good you understand why it appears in every car advert.

It's worth stopping at the viewpoints and walkways set up along the route. We were lucky to catch high tide and a bit of wind, so we watched the Atlantic break against the rocks and splash the road; with a calm sea it's more serene, but with a swell it's pure Norwegian-coast drama.

We spent the last night at the Hustadvika Havhotell, a hotel by the sea a step from the road, with a seafood dinner facing the Atlantic and the surf in the background. The next morning we closed the loop, driving back to Ålesund, returned the car at the airport and flew to Madrid. Seven nights without retracing a single kilometre.

A couple of things we were glad to have clear before leaving. Driving here is easy but it has its rules: the tolls work by number plate through the AutoPASS system and are charged automatically, so ask the hire company about its toll agreement to avoid surprises later. The fjord ferries — like the one from Hellesylt to Geiranger — are paid on board or through AutoPASS and in summer don't require booking. The speed limits are low (generally 80 km/h) and there are speed cameras: take it slow, especially as the views call for it anyway. Hire the car with fully comprehensive insurance, because the fjord roads are narrow and a compact SUV is more comfortable on the mountain passes.

Paperwork: Norway isn't in the European Union, but it is in the Schengen area, so for a short tourist stay a valid ID card or passport is enough; even so, confirm it on the official country sheet before travelling and carry a document with plenty of validity. As it's not in the EU, roaming on your Spanish plan can be expensive: an eSIM takes the problem away and works a treat for the maps and ferry timetables. The European health card covers Norway for emergencies, but not repatriation or mountain rescue, and on a trip with mountain passes and trails, good insurance brings peace of mind.

On the weather: July is the best month for this route — it's when Trollstigen and the mountain passes are open, and when you live the white nights, with daylight well into the small hours — but the weather in the fjords is changeable even in summer, with sunny days and days of rain and fog. Pack clothes in layers and a good waterproof, and don't trust the morning: here the weather changes several times a day.