The prototype of the Norderly certainly floated my boat, and my fountain pens loved it too, so much so that what I really wanted to try next was a lined version. With faultless aplomb, a dot-grid version plopped through the letterbox... but I'm not inclined to complain. I realised soon enough that dots are perfect for the rugged, practical get-stuff-done vibe that Norderly is encapsulating so well. Here's why.
Firstly, the paper is just as good - so it can handle big wet fountain pens without difficulty. That's a massive tick in the box as far as I'm concerned.
Secondly, it doesn't object to a bit of posh graphite either. That's going to be handy when out in the Norwegian Arctic sketching wolves, in which circumstances one's ink may freeze. Also, it can probably deal with shopping lists, but let's all pretend we're on the trail of canis vulpis, shall we?
Thirdly, the dots make sketching easier, whatever tool you choose to make the mark with. To test that hypothesis, I had a go at sketching one of the Trondheim pillars in St. Hugh's cathedral - or is it one of the Lincoln pillars in Nidaros cathedral? We'll probably never know, but either way there were mediaeval stonemasons plying their trade between the wolds and the fjords, and that's a fascinating thought. With the right kit, you can do anything.
The sleeve which protects the Norderly on its way to you, by the way, announces that 'a blank page can out-perform any technology'. It's impossible not to admire the bravura, isn't it? Not just writing technology, note; any technology. One day it's taking notes on how the cubs are developing and starting to join the pack on their forays through the forest, and the next it's serving as an orbital launch platform. 'Pretty sure that Trade Descriptions legislation will be fine with that - but maybe you'd better do your own research.