And if an elf appears?
As a Portuguese living in the Algarve, 20° is almost cold (south of the country, with the best weather in the world).  Each day in Scotland, for instance, the maximum temperature is colder than the minimum in my place (yes, believe it).
Thus I headed to the north of Europe asking myself: 
“Living on the road how are you going to resist the cold and survive the winter?”
 

Aurora Borealis over Senja Island

Crossing north Europe: the first 6 months of my journey

I arrived to the middle/north of Norway in the beginning of August, heading now to Nordkapp, the extreme north of Europe.

After a life with full-frame Nikon, two years ago I sold all my DSLR equipment and changed to mirror-less: volume and weight are now a half than before. A step I never regretted, a huge improvement for travelling with cameras when my back is not twenty any more.

Perched on rocks in the middle of the river I couldn’t move my feet much or I could finish having an unexpected bath. Two hours later I suddenly noticed that I was completely icy! No: frozen! I understood that it was time to open the clothes bag I used when from time to time I went to the Pyrenees skiing. But perhaps they will not be sufficient to keep me warm during the nights waiting for the Northern Lights.

"There is no bad weather but bad equipment”!  Problem is that I try to avoid huge expenses for clothes that I probably won’t use again later.  They are out of my budget.
My van is already over crowded with so many things. How to get more space?
That moment, my thoughts went to my “beloved southern countries where people undress, do not even dress”.

Next morning it felt good being in bed. My body underneath the quilt was comfortably warm but my nose was freezing. I had a look at the thermometer: 6º in bed and 2º outside….. I peeked through the window: fog.  Wow! Time to get out, big chance for good images.  It was 6h30 and only 15 minutes left for the first sun rays veiled by the fog, adding mystery to the forest.  But it fades fast and when I arrived at the river, the canopies of the trees were lighting up and greeting me with a show of yellows oranges and golden reds. There was music, it’s the water running in between the rocks.  The trail was like a carpet of autumn coloured leaves sneaking between the thick moss cover, red berries and  mushrooms of all shapes.  If I had turned the corner and suddenly was facing a gnome,  it would have been the most natural thing happening this place