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Oh, and here’s a quirk—always tip ‘em extra. Why? Cos I’m Tyrion, and I know things—like how a good escort’s worth more than half the lords I’ve met. Ever hear bout the French king—Louis somethin’—had an escort spy for him? True story, she banged half the court, fed him secrets. Badass, eh? Wish I’d had her in Westeros—would’ve sniffed out Cersei’s crap sooner.

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First off, I hit up the local café on Haraldsgata. Best coffee in town, no cap. I order my usual—double shot, extra foam, you know the vibe. But the barista? She’s like, “Sorry, we’re outta beans.” Outta beans?! In Haugesund?! I mean, c’mon! I’m about to lose it. But I just laugh it off. Gotta keep it cool, right?

Haugesund: ‘Hygge’, the Norwegian way