Well, we don't even know where to start in terms of describing our first 2 days in Norway. Within 15 minutes of leaving the port we were in a little cove, surrounded by firs sprouting out of pink granite boulders with Nordic red and white cabins sheltered behind. Clear skies and sea with islets dotted along the coastline. Breathtaking. Winding roads take you from one body of water to the next. There is a scale about it that is different from what we've seen so far. Settlements are neat, chocolate box clapperboard houses in red, white or mustard yellow. Every stretch of water has terraces of red, wooden boathouses - a boat seems to be as ubiquitous and helpful as a car. Occasional, surprising, heavy industry - mostly power or wood related we think.

Our first night was on a small campsite tucked away next to a very pretty, old fishing harbour, Lindesnes. We're still out of season so it feels rather as if we've walked into lovely museums before opening time. A little further on there is Lindesnes Fyr - the southernmost lighthouse in Norway - with a cast iron structure from 1915 and lens from the 19th century. The rocky outcrop boasts the lighthouse keeper's cottage and meteorological centre and a warren of rock hewn 'trenches' between caves - we assumed perhaps they were sheltered paths to storage - but by the end thought they were more likely part of the WW2 German anti-aircraft battery.

We are following Route 44 west, recommended by a campervan book that Tom gave me for my birthday. Introduced to hair pin bends and extraordinary views we stopped to see the waterfall at Rafossen (a dramatic cascade of iron oxide stained water) and brave our first shop. We realised that prices have gone up so high in the UK that actually the difference here is not so great!

Our first wild camp near Åna Sira - up a gravel track in dense woodland to a spot hovering above a gulley cascading with water. Looking out of Archie's window was a little like an Ansel Adams photograph! I didn't sleep well for worries that we may tumble into the gulley but it's lovely to be isolated and wild but with everything we need in Archie.

Route 44 has brought us to Sognadalstrand - a pretty, protected old fishing harbour. It was rather Cornish - straddling a rushing river down to a harbour with a stone cob. And then slightly more pastoral lowland by the coast and a rather dispiriting campsite of motorhomes at Brusand … until we walked over Freshwater West Bay type dunes to see a long stretch of dune-backed, white sand and turquoise waters with the landscape we'd driven through in the distance.

Feeling tired after last night, we shut out the wind and read and snoozed (We're both reading Ben Fogle's Labrador - a gift from Ben, and a lovely reinforcement of how proud we are of how Nala is adjusting to the trip).

We're definitely finding our Archie legs. It's amazing how much space a small space can have. We don't feel like we're tripping over each other even with Nala in the van. There is space to do different things and we have everything we need. Our mornings are gentle with time to look out at the view. The housekeeping of bed up / down, a clear up and clean up, washing and cooking are all efficient and part of the rhythm of the day. Drives are never more than about an hour or so before we stretch our legs. With writing my diary, researching the next day, and reading aloud (currently The Mayor of Casterbridge) there's not much 'spare' time but nor do things feel rushed.