I’ve always been fascinated by voyagers and sea fairing adventurers. I devoured stories like One Piece, Adventure Time, Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean. Pirates, talking dogs, hobbits, those worlds felt limitless. But among all those adventurers, there’s one group in particular that are especially relevant to my own journey through Europe: the Vikings.

My fascination with them goes way back. Reading, Marvel’s Thor comics. Studying the literature of Beowulf. Playing video games like God of War (2018) and God of War Ragnarök. Viking lore seemed to follow me everywhere. But the story that impacted me most came from an anime, Vinland Saga.

Through the war torn way of life in Vinland Saga, the anime explores the ideas about redemption, true strength, choosing growth over destruction, and honoring the journey itself. Themes we all face at some point in life. And while my experience in Scandinavia involved far less violence than those ancient times, the lessons still held true. Traveling through those lands, I could feel myself choosing a different path, one rooted in curiosity, reflection, and personal growth. A journey within, not just towards the destination.

After Paris, my family and I took a train to Rotterdam, Netherlands. Culture shock hit almost immediately when I tried speaking to someone, only to realize they were speaking Dutch. Europe has an incredible variety of languages, and I was definitely caught off guard. The man was kind and helpful nonetheless. We found the tourist info booth that thankfully they were able to assist us in English.

From there, we grabbed boarding passes for a tram to the cruise port and boarded a Holland America Line ship. We were about to embark on a week-long journey through the Nordic Sea, ancient Viking waters.

As we walked into the boarding area, a quote stretched across the wall in massive letters:

Naturally, I looked him up. Funny enough, it turns out he’s a French author born in Paris. The very city we had just left.

The quote hit harder than expected. Discovery always demands something in return—comfort, certainty, familiarity. You have to let go of what you know to find what you don’t. And standing there, a thought crossed my mind: there’s be no better place to confront that truth than the waters once crossed by Scandinavian explorers.

There’s something about those waters that trigger the human soul for exploration and adventure.

In Vinland Saga, Leif Erikson returns home with stories of a land he calls Vinland. A place of peace, abundance, and freedom from the burdens of the old world. That dream ignites something deep in Thorfinn. Sitting there, waiting to board, I felt a similar pull. Maybe not toward a literal Vinland—but toward my own.

Once aboard, we settled in and grabbed lunch as the ship pulled away from the Rotterdam docks. I barely touched my food. I couldn’t stop staring out the massive windows at the sea.

Its vastness.
The openness.
It felt like anything was possible.
Like we could go anywhere.
Freedom.

Afterward, I went into full explorer mode, wandering deck to deck, learning the layout of the ship. The first thing I noticed? The running track at the top. Still training for my marathon, I knew I’d be getting very familiar with that loop. I found the gym, dining halls, spas, bars, shops, mapping out my new floating world. Once satisfied, I headed back to my cabin for a much needed nap.

Lying there, I faced one of the first real challenges of the trip: a digital detox.

I scrolled through the cruise’s internet packages.
$100 a day—for social media.

I couldn’t justify paying that much just to doom-scroll reels and TikToks. And honestly? Trips like this are better when you’re disconnected anyway.

So I powered down and let the journey begin.

After a couple days at sea, we’ll reach our next destination,
Copenhagen, Denmark.

Every meaningful shift in life begins where comfort ends. Growth doesn’t come from staying anchored to what’s familiar, it comes from stepping into uncertainty and trusting yourself enough to navigate it. The more I moved through unfamiliar places, the more I realized that the journey itself shapes you far more than the destination ever could. What lasts isn’t the location, but the perspective you gain along the way.

Curiosity, I’ve learned, is a quiet form of courage. Asking questions, getting lost, and allowing yourself to not have all the answers opens doors you didn’t know existed. And when you disconnect from constant noise, screens, notifications, and distractions, you start to feel more present. The world sharpens. Moments carry weight. You notice the details that would’ve otherwise slipped by.

In the end, we’re all searching for our own version of “Vinland.” Not a perfect place on a map, but a state of freedom, where growth feels intentional, movement feels aligned, and life feels lived rather than rushed. Sometimes, the farther you go from the shore, the closer you get to yourself.

Until next time,