Stefan Hansen ← All work

The Northern Summer Travel — independent group travel 2026

A planning tool that keeps working after you land.

Two households, sixteen days, three countries, and every detail scattered across inboxes and group chats. This system pulled it together — and then made it useful on the ground, at the moment decisions actually get made.

Days planned
16
Countries
3
Travellers
7 across 2 households
Places catalogued
[X]
Bookings consolidated
[X]
Days used in the field
[X]

Role

Product direction · Strategy · Brand and visual design · Interface design · Content and editorial · Information architecture · Build direction · Field testing

Client

Self-initiated — two households, seven travellers

Origin

Self-initiated. Nobody asked for it, no vendor was engaged, and no budget was requested.

The problem

The details of a complicated trip arrive the way details arrive in any business: one at a time, from different directions, in whatever format the sender used — a confirmation email, a screenshot in a group chat, a booking reference on a receipt nobody can find later.

Somebody assembles it by hand into a document that is correct the day it is written and decays from there, with no way to know whether anyone opened it or is working from an older version. Scattered records, manual assembly, no visibility into what people do with what you send. Here that was sixteen days across Denmark, Germany and Iceland for two households — seven people, six places to sleep, two rental cars, flights, ferries, trains, timed tickets.

The failure was the last mile. Every planning tool available was good at before and no use at 9:40 on a Tuesday morning in Berlin: we are standing here, we have a train at 19:47, what next and when do we leave? The alternative was a fourth consecutive trip run out of a shared document and a group chat, with one person as the human index.

One day at a time, and you move it with your thumb

The system opens to a single day, filling the screen: where you are sleeping, what is booked, what you are considering, what time things happen, the notes anyone has left. Flights, check-ins, ferry crossings and timed tickets are fixed points; everything flexible arranges itself around them. Nothing from another day is on screen — the opposite of how travel information normally lives, in a pile sorted by when it arrived.

Anything you might do — restaurant, museum, swimming spot, brewery, walk — is a card: a photograph, a short description, the links that matter, the practical detail that decides whether you go. Cards sit in a searchable, filterable library and drag onto any day, and something saved without a date resurfaces later on days where it is geographically possible. Both households could add and rearrange without asking permission.

It tells you when to leave

This is the part no other tool did, and the reason the system earned its place. Between every stop sits a line showing how you get to the next one: on foot, by bus, by train, by car — which line, which direction, how long, where to catch it. Each stop carries an arrival time; each card shows how long you have there.

Those numbers are not typed in by hand. They are derived from the journeys between stops, so reordering the day, dropping a stop or pushing a departure back twenty minutes recalculates everything downstream. You stop doing arithmetic in your head while tired, in a foreign city, with children — and you know the last possible moment you can leave and still make the train.

The rest of it

  • The map starts at your front door. Each day draws its route through its stops in order, starting from the actual apartment, house or hotel you sleep in that night — both, when two households are in two houses — and tapping through gives the real road route, distance and driving time.
  • The driving is one button away. The whole day, every stop in order by name, hands to the phone's own navigation app with the travel mode already set.
  • Share it without losing control of it. One link gives a complete read-only view of every day, place and map — no password, no account, nothing to install — with every editing control removed and the restriction enforced by the system rather than by asking nicely.
  • The morning questions get answered in place. Weather by day and by leg. A currency converter on the first screen that knows which country you are in: three currencies, live rates, both directions. Opening hours, closures and queue reality on the cards for the specific days you will be there. Booking references one tap to copy.
  • It gives you something to say. Each significant stop carries four or five specific, tellable facts written to be spoken — why an inscription was resisted for twenty years, what half a million people did five days before a wall opened. It was the feature people remembered, and the trip gained a narrator.

What changed

The trip ran sixteen days across three countries with two households and seven people, and it ran off this system daily — the thing decisions were made from, on the street, in real time.

  • The information stopped being scattered. [X] bookings and [X] catalogued places in one place, with one current version.
  • The planning stopped being a document. Changes made in the field took seconds and reached everyone instantly, with no re-sending and no version confusion.
  • The blind spot closed. Everyone involved — both households and family following along at home — had continuous access to the live plan through a single link, with no risk of anyone altering it.
  • The last mile got solved. Departure times, transit legs and time-at-each-stop turned a plan into an operating schedule — the part that normally lives in one person's head.

None of this existed and none of it was going to: no vendor to hire, no off-the-shelf product that did the part that mattered. The useful move was recognising that the real problem sat after the plan was finished, in execution, where nobody was looking.