It was around early May, 2019. I was nearing the final stages of my two PhD applications — one in Canada, the other in Switzerland. By then it was clear: my time in Denmark was coming to an end. Nothing lasts forever, after all.
Soon enough, I would have to make a choice between the two opportunities. The Canadian PhD already felt like a done deal — the contract was practically ready for my signature. The Swiss path, however, required one last step: traveling to Zurich to meet the ETH team in person and leave a strong impression.
The Canadian option
The Canadian project was funded by Metal Earth in Sudbury, Ontario, but the primary supervisor — and thus the position — was based at the Université du Québec à Chicoutimi (UQAC).
At first, only the “Université du Québec” part registered with me, and I mistakenly thought it meant I’d be moving to Quebec City. I still laugh when I think back to those early days, googling images of the city and imagining what a beautiful place it would be to live for the next four years.
This is where I thought the University of Quebec was
It was only later in the process that I realized the truth: the Université du Québec system was split into several subdivisions scattered across the province. None of them were actually in Quebec City. UQAC turned out to be in Chicoutimi, a smaller northern town along the Saguenay Fjord. Not quite as grand as Quebec City, but still charming enough in photos.
This was actually where the UQAC was located
One clear downside: Chicoutimi is in the heartland of French-speaking Canada. The courses I would need to take were all in French — a language I hadn’t touched since some basic lessons in middle school. Thankfully, the PhD research itself could be done in English, but the expectation was that I’d learn French along the way.
Weighing the Two Options
Even though the Swiss PhD wasn’t a done deal yet, I began weighing the two options early.
From an academic and research perspective, ETH was the clear winner. It was world-renowned, offered unparalleled networking opportunities, and operated with a much larger budget. The project itself — a study of pegmatites in Colorado, USA — was fascinating (and ironically, quite relevant to what I would end up doing in later years). Best of all, everything would be in hassle-free English.
The Canadian PhD, however, was more industry-oriented. Its focus was on intrusion-related gold systems, knowledge directly valuable to mining and exploration careers. And honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted a purely academic future. Research was fun, yes, but the uncertainty of postdoc cycles and the slim odds of landing a professorship were discouraging. My ideal academic path might have been a government research position in Europe — but those jobs were rare and fiercely competitive.
Fiery sunset views from my apartment room in Copenhagen
If I was willing to sacrifice a little on the “prestige factor” during the PhD years, Canada offered something ETH couldn’t: a strong chance of a stable career afterwards. Opportunities in North America were simply far more abundant. Plus, I had family in Alberta. Even if not close to Chicoutimi, the thought of finally living in the same country after decades apart carried its own weight.
Still, ETH had a unique pull. With a PhD from Zurich, maybe — just maybe — I’d have the credentials to crack into those coveted European research positions too.
I wasn’t ready to decide. Not yet.
All Expenses Paid
Julien, the supervisor for the ETH Zurich PhD project, explained that the two finalists would be invited separately to campus. The task: meet staff and students, and deliver an open presentation of our Master’s thesis. All expenses paid.
By that point, the Canadian PhD was basically secured, so I felt unusually relaxed. I wasn’t yet certain which offer I would ultimately choose, but I wanted to take the Swiss process all the way. And so, I found myself flying to Zurich for the first time in my life, on my way to visit one of the most prestigious universities in the world.
Zurich, Switzerland. May of 2019
I was booked into a cozy hotel in the city center, just a short walk from campus, for two nights. The weather was overcast and a little drizzly, but I made time to wander Zurich’s streets and take in the sights. Not much preparation was needed for my presentation — I had spent months after graduation working on a scientific paper based on my thesis with my former supervisor in Copenhagen, so the material was second nature. And best of all, there was no stress. I had a safety net.
ETH Zurich
For those unfamiliar with it, ETH consistently ranks among the very top universities worldwide. With cutting-edge facilities, near-limitless funding, and some of the brightest minds on the planet, it’s an institution that sets the gold standard. In Geology, the gap was staggering: ETH ranked #1 globally. My Canadian option, UQAC, showed up somewhere in the deep hundreds.
Zurich University, main entrance
The welcome in Zurich reflected that prestige. When I arrived on campus, I met Julien and soon it was time for my presentation. Professors and researchers filed into the room. Under different circumstances, I might have been a bundle of nerves — but with Canada as a sure backup, I felt calm, almost professorial myself.
I delivered my talk with confidence, even channeling some of the pedagogical style of one of my favorite KU professors, Tod Waight. The session went beautifully. A handful of questions followed, which I answered with clarity — and when I didn’t have a precise answer, we dove into back-and-forth discussions as if I were already a peer in their academic circle.
It felt incredible.
University vibes
After my presentation, Julien introduced me to several professors and students from the geology department. The students then gave me a tour of the campus. Everything was state of the art. I could feel, even in their tone, that the expectations here were sky-high — but none of them would have had it any other way. The environment at ETH seemed perfect for this kind of work.
Walking around Zurich
One of the last students I met turned out to be Romanian — a fellow geologist from Iași. He described his first year as a nightmarishly steep learning curve, necessary to catch up to ETH’s academic standards. It sounded eerily familiar to my first semester at Copenhagen University. But he emphasized that he wouldn’t trade the experience for anything and that he wanted to stay in Switzerland long-term.
And yet — this was where a flaw in the Swiss system revealed itself. Despite welcoming top-tier students from around the world, Switzerland didn’t seem to want them to remain afterwards. In fact, even Swiss graduates themselves couldn’t apply for postdocs at ETH after completing their PhD there.
The dim evening sunrays on Liebfrauenkirche
This was a serious concern for me. I wasn’t just choosing the next four years of my life. I was trying to choose what would be best for the long term.
Torn Between Two Paths
I spent the rest of the day mingling with students and wandering the vast campus, soaking in the splendor of what could be. All the while, my mind kept circling back to the decision that weighed on me.
Streets of Zurich on a slow Sunday afternoon
Friends and family I had consulted agreed with my pragmatic view: Canada seemed like the safer choice. More industry ties, more opportunities, and a long-term career path. But after the warm welcome at ETH — the people, the prestige, the sheer weight of being there — I couldn’t stop asking myself: How could anyone say no to all of this?
Water fountain in Platzspitz along the Limat river
Maybe those thoughts slipped into my subconscious, subtly influencing how I carried myself for the rest of the visit. Later that afternoon, Julien invited me for a beer in town. Although I had mentioned alternatives before, it was during that conversation that I opened up more fully about my hesitation. Maybe too much. Looking back, I think he picked up on my uncertainty about ETH.
Zurich train station
Still, the evening ended on a warm note. By then, our conversation felt less like supervisor-to-candidate and more like a friendly outing.
No Going Back
A week later, fate made the decision for me. Julien wrote, regretfully, that ETH had chosen the other candidate.
I wasn’t disappointed. By that point, I had already leaned toward Canada. In fact, I felt relieved — spared from having to say no to such a prestigious offer. I wrote back warmly, thanking him for the opportunity and expressing hope that our paths might cross again in the future.
Back in Copenhagen
Now there was no going back. Canada was my path forward. The only question was: had I truly made the right choice? Only time would tell.
Regardless of what lay ahead, I knew one thing for sure: my last summer in Europe had begun. My final months in Copenhagen were awash in waves of nostalgia and emotion. Denmark had given me so much — friends, experiences, growth. A whole chapter of my life was closing, and a new saga was about to begin.
The Final Summer
This summer wouldn’t be spent quietly, however. Months earlier, I had promised myself and my Greek friends that if things worked out for me, I’d go visit Greece. This went back to my comical discovery that I might be up to 5% Greek — enough for me to start proudly declaring myself a descendant of Odysseus, forever searching not for my birthplace, but for that elusive place that would one day truly feel like home. So I wasted no time planning a two-week solo adventure across Greece.
Lighthouse off the shores of Copenhagen
And there was more. I couldn’t miss EUGEN that year — the gathering that had indirectly led me to this opportunity in the first place. Plus, one of my best friends, Eddy, had recently moved to Lausanne, Switzerland. This was my last chance to see him before leaving Europe.
In the end, the summer of 2019 turned out to be one of the most adventurous and joyful times of my life — travel, friendship, laughter, and discovery. A legendary summer to mark an equally legendary year. One that I’ll rave about forever.
Last selfie in Copenhagen before the big summer extravaganza
Sweden, Ireland, Canada, Switzerland — each of them had dangled a possible future before me. Some were set aside early, others carried me further along the road, but they all left me wondering about the lives I might have lived. And then there was Denmark, at the center of it all. The country that had been my home for over four years. A place I wasn’t leaving behind lightly. Yet I was at peace with my choice. The time had come to move on. Perhaps that is my destiny — like a descendant of Odysseus, or as I like to call myself Odyssian, forever searching for that elusive place I can finally call home.
Following my two-weeks adventure in Iceland in August 2016, I returned to Denmark. However, it wasn’t for long as I was planning another little trip. This time non-work related. During the time I had moved and settled in Denmark, one of my best friends from back in Romania, Daniel, had decided to move to Norway. The promised land, the land of an unforgettable adventure that started it all for both of us. Now that I was financially stable and settled into my new life, it was time to return to the far north and reunite the brotherhood!
Thus just a few weeks after my return from Iceland, I took a flight from Copenhagen to Trondheim to visit my best buddy in Norway.
Once more above the clouds
Back in Norway
I got to Trondheim pretty late at night. By the time Daniel picked me up and we got back to his place his then girlfriend was sleeping. As was most of the neighborhood. I remember we sat out on the porch during the cool Norwegian night drinking and chatting away while trying to keep our voices down.
We had a lot to catch up on since both of our lives had radically changed since last we met. However, no matter how much had changed, how much we’d change, we would always seamlessly pick up right where we left off.
After one and a half year, the Brotherhood reunites!
The next day was a Friday and Daniel had planned a little road trip for us over the weekend. After a lazy morning, he had to run some errands in the city so I tagged along and got my first brief view of Trondheim.
Driving around Trondheim, Norway
Around noon we drove over to the one of the University of Trondheim locations to pick up his girlfriend. As I was waiting, I remember admiring this casually parked submarine in the harbor right next to the building.
This is not the yellow submarine
Soon enough, we were all packed up and ready to hit the road for the weekend.
Jostedalsbreen National Park
For the rest of the day and well into the night we drove to the Jostedalsbreen National Park, mainland Europe’s largest glacier. We couldn’t see much of anything during our night drive, but the next morning we were treated to quite a spectacular view.
A cool, misty morning in Jostedalsbreen National Park
We woke up in the heart of the national park, somewhere in, or near Fjærland. It was like poetic justice that we started off our trip in the place that we were eyeing three years before, from across the fjords and mountains in Søgndal. I have to admit though, for the better part of this trip, I had no idea where we were. I was just marveling at our surroundings and enjoying the adventure.
Norwegian Glacier Museum in Fjærland
Our first stop of the day was the Norwegian Glacier Museum in Fjærland. The museum showcases the science of glaciology, the history of glaciers in Norway, and their role in climate change. It featured interactive exhibits, models, and presentations on the topic.
Glacier model at the Norwegian Glacier Museum
The museum also highlights the cultural significance of glaciers in Norway’s history and provides insight into the challenges and importance of preserving these natural wonders. But best of all, the museum had a big polar bear in the lobby area that I could high five!
Heck yeah!
Melkevoll Bretun
Following a scenic drive around and under the mountains, we ended up on the northern side of the glacier, at Melkevoll Bretun. Located near the Briksdal Glacier (Briksdalsbreen) in Stryn, Melkevoll Bretun offers stunning views of dramatic glacial landscapes. It was time for a little hike.
The trail to Briksdalsbreen glacial lake
A 3 km trail from Briksdal Mountain Lodge led all the way up to the Briksdalsbreen glacial lake. The winding gravel trail took us up the mountain through lush valleys surrounded by towering peaks and cascading waterfalls. On our way up we passed Kleivafossen waterfall, one of the major highlights of the the hike.
Kleivafossen waterfall spraying everyone that passed it by
Following the waterfall we passed by some cool glacial features in the outcropping rocks. Jettegryter, or the giant potholes formed naturally during the last Ice Age, when glacial meltwater carried rocks and debris that swirled in strong currents, grinding into the bedrock.
The giant potholes (Jettegryter) on the Briksdalsbreen trail
The polished, smooth wall of the rocks also revealed other neat features in these rocks that would excite any geology enthusiast.
Structural features in the rock layers, including displacement and boudinage
Of course a Norwegian hike wouldn’t be complete without encountering a pack of goats. Most of them were minding their own business, grazing around. But then there was this one goat perched up on a rock that was just staring down at us lowly humans like the king that he was.
Close encounter with the Goat King
Briksdalsbreen
Shortly after our encounter with the Goat King, we reached Briksdalsbreen glacial lake. A serene lake with a gorgeous view, Briksdalsbreen glacial lake continues to grow larger as the glacier gradually retreats over the decades.
Briksdalsbreen, an arm of the larger Jostedalsbreen ice cap
This was one of the best places to test out my newly acquired PENTAX digital camera. It wasn’t as fancy as a Canon, or Nikon, but its fixed lens had quite an impressive zoom for the time. The only problem was keeping the camera steady. I never invested in a tripod, so I had to always find just the right surface around to get my zoomed in shots.
Briksdalsbreen zoomed in
I ended up getting some really neat zoomed in shots of the glacier. One of them even captured distinctive cracks/crevasses in the blue ice.
Even more zoomed in action revealing cracks in the ice
Of course I couldn’t just ignore the jagged mountain peaks surrounding us. After a quick camera repositioning, I got some moody shots of the landscape as well.
Ice patches tucked away between the surrounding mountain ridges
Finally, Daniel ended up just in the right spot for a spaghetti western style shot!
The man, the viking, the legend, Dovahkiin Daniel
An epic sunset
After we finished our nature photoshoot at Briksdalsbreen, we slowly headed back to the parking lot. As we drove back towards our lodging, the clouds led up just enough to offer some amazing sunset views that just kept on getting better and better.
Sunlight just barely grazing the peaks of the mountains
Even Daniel was constantly staring into his mirrors while driving while we were “oo-ing” and “aa-ing” at the scenery. We ended up pulling over numerous times to get the best shots.
Jostedalsbreen in the distance
But it wasn’t until the apex of the setting sun that we were truly treated to some spectacular sights.
An epic Norwegian sunset
Nothing like a lake view of the burning red sky as the sun goes down behind the mountains and fjords. A perfect way to end a great day on the road. However, our adventures in Norway were not over yet. The story will continue in “The return to Norway part 2”.
The next morning, before heading out, we met Julio’s boss and manager at the Borgund Stave Church museum, Tanna. I recall being eagerly inquisitive about a potential part-time position at the museum. By this point I had fallen in love with Norway so much that I would have done anything to stay. They were actually looking for more people for the next year’s tourist season. But they wanted someone fluent in French. Unfortunately my French language skills were abysmal. Ironic how today, ten years since this trip, I am in a place and position where I once more would greatly benefit from a high level of French. After our pleasant conversation with Tanna, we bid farewell to her and Julio and set off to climb the mountain.
The tiny village of Borgund with the Stave Church museum to the upper left
Once more, we were very fortunate with the weather. The entire week we spent in Norway we had nothing but beautiful clear sky and warm days. From what we were told, the entire summer before that was murky and rainy. We definitely picked the best time to go.
The climb
From the Borgund valley at around 400 m, we climbed all the way up to around 1200 m during the first half of the day. We followed a gravel road climbing the mountain and ran into the owner’s herd of sheep at one point. The sheep had stopped in the middle of the road and eyed us like motionless statues. With their horizonal pupils intensely focused on us, we felt uncomfortable… judged. We maintaining eye contact as we slowly approached the herd. It felt like a stare down in one of those old western movies. Then out of nowhere, they defecated before our very eyes and moved along. We felt we had been given the right of passage. We could now continue climbing up.
Admiring rock outcrops on our hike up the mountain
Along our journey up, we had to make many stops. The backpacks were heavy and our energy levels were not the greatest. I guess that’s what you get when you’re on a mostly ramen-berry diet for days in a row. At least we didn’t have any water shortages. There were plenty of small creeks we ran across on our way up. We were however a bit hesitant about drinking from the creek after our sheeply encounter. We decided to ration what we had and find a safer source, closer to the top.
The higher up, the better the view
A bit over half the way up we decided to make a base camp. We pitched our tent in a small clearing in the forest and left most of our heavy stuff there. Coming from Romania, we have an overly cautious attitude towards leaving belongings in the open where they can be easily stolen. In this situation we were on private property and far from anyone else. This was also Norway, not Romania. So begrudgingly I agreed to leave some of my stuff behind. However, I still refused to leave my big backpack. It was like my big blue baby. I wouldn’t abandon it.
Our new base camp with tent tucked away under the trees
On top of the world
Not too long after setting off from our new base camp we reached the start of the mountain plateau. Gone was the densely vegetated forest. Taking its place was alpine vegetation, with but a few scattered trees. Before us lay one final gentler climb to lake Vassetvatnet, flanked on both sides by gorgeous, tall peaks. We simply referred to them as the two monsters guarding the path. Behind us the scenery now opened up to reveal the deep valleys and neighboring peaks. It was magical.
The start of my victory pose, only to be used on rare, glorious occasions
We spent the rest of the daylight up there. Tried our luck once more with some fishing, but third time was not the charm. We tentatively climbed a portion of one of the monster peaks, but weren’t serious about going all the way. It had been a long day already and these peaks required a lot more energy then we had left. We also followed one of the small creeks all the way to its spring point, which was strangely satisfying. Fresh water, right from the source! A couple of times during our stay, we spotted a lonesome car driving away into the distance on the road. Somebody waving their hand at us from the car. Most likely the kind owner of the property. We returned the gesture.
Vassetvatnet, the lake with a dam and plenty of fish, but none for us
I find it hard to describe just how good I felt when we were up there. Perhaps it was the serenity of the place, or the sheer panoramic beauty. For whatever reason, that day there in particular managed to heal my troubled mind. All my troubles and worries from back home now washed away. At that moment, for me personally, our adventure had achieved its goal. I used that day to mentally get over all the hardships and struggles of my life back in Romania. I was forging a new purpose. Something to fight and strive for. I was going to make moving to Norway my one primary goal from that point on.
One of the two monster peaks rising just above 1600 m altitude
The end of a journey
Before heading back down to our tent for the night, we were treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets one could ask for. As the sun gradually disappeared behind the great fjords in the west, it felt as if the land itself was bidding us farewell. After a good night’s sleep, we packed our things the next morning and headed back to the bus stop.
A sunset over the fjords
We went back to Fagernes and our favorite camping ground to relax. Since it was our last day in Norway and we managed to not break the bank, we indulged ourselves with some local food. I recall the last evening in Fagernes camping as we melancholically stared across the lake. I pointed to a red building in the distance on top of the hill and told Daniel that that would be my house one day. With my loving Norwegian wife preparing some scrambled eggs for breakfast. He pointed out that that was in fact a barn. I didn’t care. It will do just fine! The heart was heavy, but the mind was more determined than ever before.
Strondafjorden lake, Fagernes
The day of our flight back from Oslo, the skies were overcast and an chilly autumn wind had arrived. It was the end of our journey for now. Just as we seemingly had brought the good weather with us, we were now taking it back. I was going to return to Norway one day. But twists and turns would redirect my life in many more ways before that day would come.
