An eighteenth-century travelogue, describing a 1795 business trip to Norway (albeit in rather sad circumstances that the book doesn't describe; see the Wikipedia article for more details). It's sort of hard not to like Wollstonecraft after reading this sort of thing:
The gentlemen, wishing to peep into Norway, proposed going to Fredericshall, the first town---the distance was only three Swedish miles. There and back again was but a day's journey, and would not, I thought, interfere with my voyage. I agreed, and invited the eldest and prettiest of the girls to accompany us. I invited her because I like to see a beautiful face animated by pleasure, and to have an opportunity of regarding the country, whilst the gentlemen were amusing themselves with her.
Having visited Norway for business myself last year, I thoroughly agreed with the following sentiment:
I left this letter unfinished, as I was hurried on board, and now I have only to tell you that, at the sight of Dover cliffs, I wondered how anybody could term them grand; they appear so insignificant to me, after those I had seen in Sweden and Norway.