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

Together, we've attended play dates, and craft and toy sharing sessions — and despite online portrayals of a more equal world, I am usually the only dad 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 nurture our bond, so I decided to plan a trip — for just the two of us.  

We're English, so I thought it best to stay in Europe, despite having traveled to Japan twice with my wife and daughter. (A long-haul flight without her mother was a scary concept, I admit).

I checked flights, my budget and travel times that would keep her sleep schedule intact, narrowing 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 Bergen it was.

A natural icebreaker

We left for Manchester Airport much earlier than we needed to, 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 interacted with far more people than I would have if I had traveled alone.

I tactically booked an airport hotel to take the edge off our first night in Bergen. But we both arrived filled with energy. Once the lights went out, she fell asleep almost instantly, while I lay awake. I was now the excited child, thrilled about our trip ahead.

The next day we took the train into the city center — and already I knew Norway was the right choice. The tunnels and the stunning topography were matched only by the people.

My daughter exudes a confidence that I hope she never loses. She gave "thumbs up" signs to locals on the platforms at every stop, always receiving a reciprocal gesture and smile in return. She quickly moved on to the two-handed love heart sign, which a young Norwegian couple mirrored back. With enough real hearts successfully melted, she returned to the coloring book that the hotel concierge had given her that morning.

'Children come first' in Norway

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

Similarities to the "Land of the Rising Sun" continued throughout our trip: the funny beeps on road crossings, a prevalence of 7-Eleven convenience stores, the reserved yet kind people, subtle and mature fashion choices, great customer service, tasty food and the unreserved kindness to children.

"Children come first in Norwegian culture," a mother told me in the VilVite, a children's science museum in Bergen. We had been talking about how impressive the museum was for children, how staff on every corner were keen to improve the children's learning experience. Opened 17 years go, the museum looked brand new. Exhibits regularly change so local parents keep coming back.

As we spoke, my daughter played with other children, building cars out of Lego to test on a undulating wooden track which eventually smashed them to smithereens.

Raising children in Norway is different from raising them in England. There's a monthly cap on child-care costs, which incentivizes both parents to work and boosts gender equality in the workforce. Children don't start school until they are six years old, which gives them more time in the family unit. The country's low crime rate means it's normal for children walk to school or to the homes of other family members, 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 harbor, laughing at the loud horns of the nearby cruise ships. We rode a funicular railway to the top of Mount Fløyen, hiked to a lake and skimmed rocks along the water's edge. We saw cairns along the way, which are small piles of stones that usually mark an important spot. My daughter insisted on building her own, honoring one of her favorite stuffed animals.

We spent the rest of our short vacation exploring the cobbled streets and alleyways of the safe and quiet city, often taking photos of eclectic street art. Our ambling took us to a toy shop, parks, ice cream parlor, fire station and a large church with a practicing choir inside.

A moment to remember

During our last night together, we sat on our hotel bed, I with a reindeer hotdog and my daughter with a box of leftover pizza. She watched children's shows on the television, not caring 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 adventure with no responsibilities or thoughts of the future.

No matter how spontaneous you may be, being a parent inevitably throws you into a routine. Even "having fun" can entail unwritten stipulations, worrying and planning.

That's why one-on-one time to truly enjoy our children is key — time when we forget about jobs, housework, bills and anything else that can weigh life down. Exploring new territory, 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.