22 Nov – Home Sweet Home

Home is wonderful and quite strange to be back. Jamie picked me up from the baggage claim area, fresh squeezed OJ in hand (loved it!), and ready to porter my five pieces of luggage. The warm air, sunny rays, and palm trees escorting us out of the airport led me to believe I was now on vacation. What a switch from the cold, damp, sunless weeks prior. Fantastic.

There have been some noticeably different things. The toilet paper here is part of the welcomed charm. The TP here is much softer and thinner than the paper offerings in Europe. The baby carriages there are just strollers here. Part of that reason is the Norwegians bundle their babies up, put them laying down in the carriage, and put the whole carriage outside on the patio or in the yard. Apparently, the babies sleep twice as long when sleeping outside. It makes for an interesting experience when you go to the daycare center and see 20-something carriages with babies, all outside unattended.

You know you’ve been gone a while when you cut your husband’s hair when you leave, and it needs a cut when you return.

You know you’ve been gone a while when you return and need to change the calendar by three pages.

You know you’ve been gone a while when you return, you not only find a Silver Club card to the hotel chain you joined in the stack of mail, but you find a Gold Club card as well.

The neighbors today had a happy hour from 3-5pm, their way of showing off their 4-5 month old not-identical twin boys. We stopped by for a little while. It was just enough time for some friendly chatter and a house tour. The home was a beautiful, charming well-done interior… similar to what could be found in magazine pages. The landscaping is also quite impressive in the front and backyards. The guy is a contractor, so he is a good person to know. Everyone has been talking about the fence Jamie built while I was away. They all compliment it… even the kids were talking about how “the guy is building it to keep the cat in”. Yep, Hairball is still around and meowier than ever before. We still don’t feed it. Back to the fence though, it’s no picket fence (overdone), but rather a type of horse fence. No plan for horses here!

Thank you for being “with me” on my ventures over the past couple months. It certainly helped me feel less-lonely, thinking of how to construct the blogs every few evenings and receiving your email responses. I’m not sure I’ll continue to write the entries. Perhaps I’ll start it up again on the next trip. In the meantime, I’ll revert back to my personal diary.

20 Nov – Water of Life, with T- 13hr left

It’s 8:30pm on Friday night at the airport hotel. I am beat.

The past week has lived up to the busy schedule that was expected. Some of my coworkers arrived for a review meeting, so it was great to hear and chat with other Americans. Last night we participated in a very traditional Christmas dinner at a hut/lodge at the top of a local mountain (remember that the mountains around here are more similar to an Adirondack mountain than a Tahoe mountain). The dinner included various meats, steamed brussel sprouts, boiled potatoes, mashed split peas, pureed orange cabbage root vegetable (no idea what the name is), cranberries, and two types of fish. The one type was Lutefisk.

Lutefisk deserves its own paragraph. Not because it is particularly good, oh no. It is exceptionally peculiar. Lutefisk is made from dried cod (perhaps hanging outside for 1 year), soaking it for one day in water, then allowing it to absorb soda (plain kind), among other flavors. The result is a fishy tasting jell-o. I tried the slightly opaque jiggling bite at the beginning of the meal. My tastebuds were sending red alert “Abort immediately” signals to my fork. It was quickly chased down with some aquavit before stomach reflexes could start. Halfway through the first plate, in hoping that this was all a malfunction and a second bite could only improve, I tried another wiggling nibble. Yuck, there was nothing broken about the initial assessment. The Norwegians claim it must be eaten with bacon over the top of it. Hmmm, that’s not the first time that greasy disguise has been used.

Wow, did the aquavit flow. As you’re aware, the aquavit (translate: water of life) is consumed at ceremonial dinners (like Xmas), with the purpose of breaking down the fatty foods. I suspect this is only the textbook reasoning. There seemed to be other purposes as many toasts insued and laughs were had. Aquavit is made from potatoes with a hint of caraway seeds. Somehow the resulting effect is similar to licorice scented vodka. It is served in a shot glass and seems to be sipped throughout the meal. If they sell it at Duty Free tomorrow morning (at 6am), I will bring home a bottle. If not, we can hope for next time (but not for at least a couple months please).

The time here has been a great experience. On more than one occasion, I’ve been asked a question along these lines:
We will probably never have as much time in Norway as you have had. If we are only there briefly, what are the three "don't miss" places/things in your mind?

This question can be answered in two ways. I can answer it in relation to my favorite experiences, or it can be at a level that is more accommodating to a future traveler. I’ll do the latter. For limited time, I would recommend sticking to the west coast. The central and eastern regions are more of the same. The west coast has the ocean, fjords, and reasonably easy access to the mountains (tree-line).
#1 Fjords – See the fjords. It is best to see them by car. A drive out of Bergen, or east of Stravanger should do just find. Many roads will require ferries to continue, which allow even better views of the fjords. Spending two or three days of fjord-hopping should full-fill the appetites of most.
#2 City – For some culture, spend a day or two in Bergen. Do the hike (or be taken up by cable car) the nearby hill/mtn, take the Norway-In-A-Nutshell tour (train, boat & bus), or simply just stroll around the different quaint old neighborhoods. It is quite the colorful little city / big town wedged between evergreen mountains and the fjord inlet.
#3 High country – Within a drive, bus (or train too I think) from Bergen is Hardvanger national park. I recommend spending some time to explore this high country. It is the classic Norwegian mountain plateau where reindeer roam wild… though you’d be lucky to find one. Much of it is above treeline (at 3-4K feet) and there are plenty of water sources… ponds, lakes, and waterfalls.
#4 Arctic Circle – It is a trip (literally and figuratively) going this far north. No need to go just to “say you did it”, but rather go to see the northern lights (if in the late fall/winter) or to the Lofoten Islands (or further North) in the endless sun summer.

Whoops, was I supposed to only provide three suggestions? Well, I’ll let you decide which one to skip. The only other suggestions I’d recommend is to rely on planes, trains, boats, or buses. The costs incurred in renting a car are not only high, however parking fees (in most towns) and gas prices are excessive too. Also, it’s best to travel in the shoulder seasons for lodging cost purposes. The cabins seem to be cheapest (1/3 cost of hotels) and they provide a place to cook in (instead of spending silly money at restaurants). I am happy to provide input to anyone considering a trip to this region.

An exerpt from Julia Child's autobiography regarding her thoughts of Oslo/Norway once she moved away were:
“I begain to feel nostalgic for Norway, with its good sturdy folk, its excellent educational system, its unspoiled nature, its lack of advertiseing, and its non-hectic rhythms. “ Julia Child

I couldn't agree more... it's all still true today. It’s now T-12 hours. Awesome. Home, here I come!

Nov 17 - Saturated Final Days

T-4 days and counting. Last night the team here gathered at a local restaurant for pizza and beer as my send-off party. It was a rowdy good time with most of the team (some missed it as there are some meeting preparations underway). As we enjoyed a few rounds (my choice was red wine), each guy would get a text or call from his wife/girlfriend and disappear shortly thereafter. Never as the electronic leash of the cell phone been so apparent! Of the original 8, there were 5 of us left to pay the bill and head out in the cold night. The 5th guy got a pull on his leash once outside, and headed in a different direction. The remaining four of us went to Gamble Norge (Old Norwegian) pub for a game of darts. We fit three games in, ending in a draw (saved by the bar closing). This was my first opportunity to try the country’s classic alcohol aquavit. It’s hard liquor that is swallow in shot form during celebratory, fatty dinners like Christmas. They claim it helps your stomach break down the lard in the meal. With a claim like that, I was worried it would break down my esophagus first. After an initial sniff (waifs of licorice) and some on my lips, I eagerly threw my head back to get it over with. I feared it’d go down like tequila. To my surprise, it didn’t and thus more pleasant than anticipated. So, by night’s end I was saturated with spirits.

The weather has added to the saturated feelings. Except for 10 minutes in the car when driving my friend to the airport the other day, it has been overcast, rainy, or snowy every single minute for the past 2 ½ weeks. Denmark came close to this record, but think this is the longest I’ve gone without direct sunlight. It makes being inside and working easy, however I feel my skin going pale. Perhaps I may even get cloud-burned, and turn a hue of gray or pale blue from absorbing the cloud rays.

My schedule has been saturated with social plans every evening and work during the day. For the past week and upcoming nights, there are dinner plans involving different people and different places. It certainly makes time pass quickly. It also insinuates that my time here was valued and enjoyed by others! I hope to see some of these folks in California someday.

Dare I say I’m saturated of Norway? That’s a pretty big statement and not one I will sign up to now. However, I cannot wait to come home! Of course I miss home, however have not allowed myself to think about it for prolonging any feelings of anxiety and homesickness. That could really cause the final days to be miserable. My feelings began to change yesterday, when I realized I’ve lived in the hotel here in Norway more than I’ve lived in my “new” home in Hermosa Beach. That is when it really sunk in. I’ve had a fantastic time here and have certainly made the most with the opportunities offered. I won’t get weepy at this point, that is best saved for last. I just feel very lucky to have been here and very excited to come home.

15 Nov – Hot and Cold Girls’ Weekend in Oslo

From Norway

It was a SUPER fun weekend… certainly a great last hoorah for my Norway adventures. It started when I checked into a room on the “ladies floor” of a sweet hotel in Oslo. The rooms of this “ladies floor” were each designed by women and for women. The hotel invited 11 famous Norwegian women (film star, singer, producer, business women, golfer, skier, etc.) to each team up with a professional interior decorator to completely overhaul a hotel room. The hallway was decorated with black and white posters of each lady. Each hotel door was inscribed with the famous lady’s name. It certainly made for a special atmosphere for my girls’ weekend in Oslo!

Flurries had started flying earlier in the day and by nighttime there was a heavy blanket of very wet snow. It provided fun Volkswagen Golf driving and a perfect “welcome to Norway” atmosphere for one of my best friends. We were both very excited to see each other and eager to chat about travel stories and our lives. We didn’t quiet down until sometime past 2am to absorb the needed Zzzzz’s.

Sat morning started with the wake-up-now-or-miss-breakfast alarm at 9:15am. It was a similar breakfast to my Kongsberg hotel breakfast. It provided good fuel for the day’s urban explorations. We headed down the pedestrian-only Stroget to the multi-culture flea market that I had visited on the earlier Oslo trip. There was different stuff yet some recognizable vendors. This seems to be the busiest and most crowded market of them all. We each found some treasures and successfully bargained for them. The slow perusing of junk had chilled our extremities, so a hurried pace returned us to the warm hotel to drop the baggage. It’s an appropriate time to mention that by “warm”, I mean: breaking a sweat after casually using four flights of stairs (regardless of going up or down them), not being able don a coat until well outside the building for prevention of wet pits, eating breakfast in the atrium room instead of the side room for fear of fainting. The hotel was stifling hot.

After dropping my bags, exchanging some clothes & footwear, and wiping my brow from the stairs, my friend and I navigated to the next item on the list… the farmer’s market. Her and I have been known to conquer these food markets together in LA, and were jazzed to see what the local bonders (“farmers” in Norwegian), have been harvesting. There were over a dozen tents of which 40% were meat/fish, 40% cheese, 10% fruit juices (plum and apple), 5% jam/spreads, 5% other (“other” includes veggies). After a careful review (based on tasteful sampling), we settled on 3 cheeses – including a hard goat cheese, a bottle of plum glogg (heated spiced Xmas drink), and a paper cup of hot, fresh, homemade apple cider… delicious. On our return to the hotel, we purchased two breads from a bakery and enjoyed a gourmet picnic spread in the hotel room. The warmth was welcoming after the cold on-and-off rainy, wet weather. The meal was delicious and toasty.

Once reheated and re-fueled , a quick toss of bathing suits and we trudged up more heated stairs to dip into the indoor rooftop treed pool. If I was to describe the features of this spa facility, there would be dandruff on your shoulders from all the scratches on your head. I’m going to skip this opportunity and force you to look at the pictures (if you haven’t already). On a side note, we were not allowed to take these photos, however were not told so until we exited the room and it was too late. My apologies, Mr. Black bathingsuit man… you are now famous to a few souls in the states!

We couldn’t dwaddle in the cool pool, suffocating steamy room, and the desert dry sauna. Next up was a ballet at the Opera House. I was one pair of shoes away from an appropriate Norwegian outfit and my friend was one pants short. Needless to say we did not go without, we just went knowing we’d never see these friendly strangers again. The ballet had three acts… all impressively athletic and captivating. We opted for the cheap seats ($18 US) and moved to the empty, improved seats. It was a fabulous show, the last act being the best with upbeat music and modern, sometimes comical movements.

By the fourth curtain call (yes, they bow many, many times), it was pouring rain and 8:15pm. It was time to scout out a dinner meal. I’m not quite sure what happened next. All I remember is relentless rain, blurred and foggy vision (glasses are not designed for use in rain), interpreting the food offerings of candlelit dining rooms, endless menus promising mouth watering burgers –which was our #1 rule for not picking eateries. The #2 rule was no Scandanavian food. What overshadows these memory, is the rain drops that started on my hair. Once my hair was thoroughly saturated, these drops drizzled their way down my forehead, leaping on my eyelashes to take the ride down to my cheek. Losing altitude, from my chin they were in freefall to my trench coat turned drenched coat. These wet pests didn’t give up here, oh no. Some would pilfer the final dry spots of my coat, others hurdled off my coat and began a soaking battle on my knees. That’s when I drew the line, and called for an immediate retreat to the stuffy hotel. All was not lost in this wet war. A hairdryer, towel and coat removal rid me of soggy misery.

The hotel restaurant was renowned in the Frommer’s book, so we took the best seat in the house. The menu was small and disappointing. It was obvious in breaking rule #2. Before the waiter returned to the table, we dashed out of the warmth, back into the streets (coatless this time), and literally ran hells bells for the Indian restaurant three blocks away… narrowly escaping the water droplet formations from proliferating past the hair. It was now 10pm. The cuisine did not disappoint. We relished the spices and clinked our glasses to the scrumptious dishes. It was quite an amusing evening thus far, and it was not over. In fact, the standout chapter was yet to come.

The rain finally let-up and a casual stroll was appropriate for digestion. A curious storefront was done in a completely white interior, with a queue of customers at the counter. There was some silver jewelry and less than a dozen white items that decorated the walls. This fascinating business was titled Icebar, by Ice Hotels. Intrigued, we helped ourselves in the door and waited in line. In luck, some folks were no-shows to their Ice Bar reservations. The bouncer dropped a faux-fur hooded poncho over my head, gloves attached, and ushered us through the first door. Once the first door closed, the second door opened and we were inside a metal-floor igloo. Ice was the walls, ceiling, stools, couch, and drinking glasses. My friend and I had a roaring time taking pictures and talking to fellow ice fans. My favorite activity (once the drink was finished) was to find a clinking partner, and do a clink high in the air, so hard that the ice glasses smashed, shattering into an explosion of ice. This was way more entertaining than throwing it on the floor as most others did. This Ice bar opened earlier in the week and is preceded by one in Stockholm, Tokyo, Dubai, and possibly one other major city that I forget. The time was limited to the top of the hour and we were the last group to enjoy it that night. What an unexpected pleasantry.

The walk home was warm, despite being coatless at midnight in Oslo. The bodily functions were still misguided from the Ice bar. It only made for an even hotter illusion once inside the smothering hotel. My friend and I recounted the day’s events with excitement and it took us just before 2am to calm down enough to rest. What a temperature and weather extreme day it had been… some naturally occurring, others some self-induced. It made for fantastic sleeping and even better memories! Thank you fellow Ice Queen!

10 Nov – Thumb twiddle here and there

I’m scraping the bowl for worthwhile topics for these entries. It’s apparent my mind is starting to focus on coming home ( 1 ½ more weeks). This subject is an item that I’ve tallied over my stay here. I was hoping to have more examples by now, however the three will have to do.

Norwegians are blunt. There’s no two ways about it. They are not the friendliest folk on the sidewalks, however once you get to know them they are easy to capture in conversation. Once “inside” they are very much a jovial bunch whom crack jokes and sarcastically poke each other with words. Over lunch, if they speak English, I fit right in. One whom talks about work at the lunch table remains the killjoy. During these friendly interactions, as well as on weekend encounters with strangers, I’ve realized they are a blunt society. It’s pertinent to understand, I’ve heard them admit it too. Blunt as blunt.

The first display of bluntness was on a few weeks ago on Friday. Within two minutes of using my lunch seat, the coworker across the table asked (out of the blue), “so why did Obama win the Nobel Peace Prize?” This was not only the first time politics had been discussed, but this question was being posed within an hour of the public announcement. In fact, her inquiry was my news broadcast. I had no idea why, let alone that Obama had received the Prize. It certainly got their point across in the most efficient manner possible.

That following weekend I was strolling the sprawling life statue park in Oslo. At this particular moment, the park was virtually empty and I had arrived at the main art sculptures. A lonely man walked up to me and spoke in the foreign tongue. I request English, in Norwegian. He replied with, “Do you believe in Jesus?” Being 11am on a Sunday, perhaps this is a common question. Stunned, I offered a meager portion of words that I no longer remember. He then proceeded to ask where I was from. Next was if I knew about the “Jesus Revolution” of the 1970s in California. I couldn’t admit I did, and this worshipper soon lost interest. I was relieved.
On the cruise, one of our temporary-passenger-lunch-companions told us that this cruise we had so eagerly signed up for was known to be the “cruise of rich blue-haired old American ladies and fat men with a camera resting on their belly”. Well, glad that we blew that stereotype out of the fjord water. Of the boat passengers, there was one person to fit this description. Of course, this was barely an acceptable sample size being there only 46 passengers.

The bluntness is amusing and not offensive. For many visitors, it may not always start off that way, however if the visitor has any amount of a laid-back or friendly attitude towards life, the awkwardness will end quickly. It’s just a fun aspect to the culture.

This tunnel to get me home has a light at the end. A light with a silhouette of a husband whom is holding something…. Ahh, it’s a glass of fresh squeezed OJ (he got that earlier hint, this is just a friendly reminder). Being in this tunnel certainly narrows my priorities for the next 11 days. Keeping focused on transitioning work activities, seeing a best friend in Oslo this weekend , and might I use the words “pack it up” in one phrase… I suspect the days will drop by the wayside, just as I pass the reflective markers in this tunnel.


On a side note, if you have any questions on Norway (or my experiences) please send an email! If the questions are interesting, funny or there are enough of them, I will make a blog entry out of them…. leaving the questioners completely anonymous. From the past feedback, I can confirm that there are 5 family members + 2 friends and 2 coworkers that are reading these entries. Thank you!

08 Nov - Kongsberg Laziness + Babysitting (they don't go hand-in-hand

This weekend has been a complete relaxing, dare I say lazy weekend. For the past two months, every weekend has been spent in a different Norwegian or Swedish town. A combination of all the places being checked off my list, the snowy weather, and a coworker + family being in-town (not being by myself!) led me to stay in Kongsberg. Saturday was started with a long 3 hour wet walk through town and up around the local mountain. It rained the entire time and for much of it I was trudging through snow, yet I was able to stay warm. My feet did get wet (through my leather hiking boots) so I was happy, after stopping for a bakery lunch, to return to the toasty hotel. In the evening my babysitting services were accepted for a night with a 2 ½ year old boy and his 6 month old sister. Apparently, he is enamored with me, and asking his parents, “where’s Sara?” everyday and at dinner. It makes babysitting him a lot easier as he responds to my requests (put your pants on, get your jacket, go brush your teeth) with enthusiasm versus putting up fights to his parents for the same requests. I certainly energize him and wear him out during play time, and have enjoyed testing a new communication method on him. A few months ago, I learned something from one of Jamie’s coworker’s families. The parents do not talk to the little one in baby talk, but rather in a tone that would be used with an adult. This toddler is extremely smart and is catching on to a number of words and phrases that may otherwise have not been used. Her most amusing phrase is, “Daddy, can I tax your plate?”

The 6 month old is teething, so she wasn’t quite herself during the babysitting hours. I remained calm despite having a wailing alarm next to my ear. If I put her down, her screams could be heard at least two floors up and down, I’m sure of it. Even in my arms after a fresh diaper, and endless entertainment and movement she sounding her siren. After an hour or so, I needed to get her out of the hotel and out of range from my ear tubes, so we went for a walk to the train bridge. After getting the boy dressed (while holding her), we all went into my room so I could slip into my boots and a jacket (though both were untied/unzipped) because she was still screaming. She calmed down when we walked down the hallway and down the elevator. At this point in the lobby, she was put into the stroller. She let everyone in the hotel lobby, including the fancy ladies in sequence dresses, know it was happening against her will. She was pushed outside into the freezing dark evening in frustration. I pushed the stroller for 15 minutes through snow and we were almost to the bridge. Almost, before the boy walked through an ankle-deep (on him) puddle. Of course. I gently told him that since he walked through a puddle and his feet may get wet and cold we better turn around. So, we turned around back to the hotel. He was okay with that. She wasn’t. She had fallen asleep five minutes into the walk and upon returning to the warm air of the hotel room was awake, and again, felt the need to inform everyone on the floor. A pacifier did nothing. Dancing did nothing. A formula bottle did something for a little while. Then I gave up and put her in her crib. She was agitated at first, but if I “shhhed” her she quieted down. If I left, she’d send more distress signals. This provided little time to take care of the boy. He was becoming tired and cranky as well. After a tooth brushing activity and a small disagreement, he was put to bed. A few challenged versions of Jingle Bells (he started it) and Twinkle Twinkle, they were both asleep within minutes and stayed that way!

While awaiting for the parent’s return, I continued knitting a new project that I had cast-on that day. It’s a reversible scarf. A bit more complicated of a feat, but results with a more rewarding product! I had studied a similar scarf on the cruise boat and was motivated to give it a try… just as I was motivated to give babysitting toddlers a try. I’ll do it again before I leave as I know the parents really appreciate having a date night. I love date nights!

05 Nov – Norwegian Digest(ion)

From Norway

Today I’m stepping up to the plate to concoct the food entry that has been marinating for so long. There is no shortage of menus, stories, nor ingredients to pull from. Where to start?

As I type this, I’m in Skragata, my favorite Kongsberg restaurant, though it’s quite different from my normal weekly visit. The Enya music has been replaced with familiar melodies, yet unrecognizable Italian voices. The server is not the owner, nor one of the two waitresses. It is the owner’s brother, whom is three-weeks into this position. He does not yet recognize me… too busy concentrating on meeting his monsieur brother’s high expectations. It took me two weeks to find this cozy eatery down a dark alley. The food was so impressive, wine so delightful, and menu so intriguing, I returned the very next evening. From then on, I was treated like a princess with a free glass of wine or dessert for subsequent visits. Six other folks have dined at this restaurant due to my recommendation. The menu offers five starters , one vegetarian entrée, two from the sea, and four or five mammal dishes. I have also been offered off-menu items which were just as delicious. I can speak for the veggie and fish dishes and the others have praised the meat dishes. The atmosphere is a clean, upscale cabin interior which provides a cozy compliment to the six inches of snow blanketing the patio. It’s been gently snowing for over 24 hours and that is all the accumulation. Back to the bread and butter though…

The notes I’ve kept, aka “blog ingredients”, for this entry may be best used as a list of memories and descriptions. Here goes, in no particular order:

1) High end food is buttery, creamy or cheesy. Low end food is, well, terrible. No matter if you order vegetables, fish, or meat. The well-paid chefs are highly creative in manipulating a cream sauce, cheesy filling, or buttery sauté into every plate. The low-end food is meat kebabs (not ventured by me) or vegetables straight out of a can with a salty canned sauce heated over the top (thanks to the 10 page Chinese menu that only had 1 veggie option… and it was canned)… it was the cheapest meal yet. The Indian restaurant in town is the only restaurant that breaks the pattern. I’m a fan of it!

2) Not many spices are used (even the Indian restaurant disappoints). The locals have not heard of cumin, there has been one use of red pepper spice in all of my two months, and no freshly ground salt nor pepper offered at restaurants. It’s the powdered light brown pepper in the glass shakers that decorate the tables.

3) Peanut Butter jars cause comments. Yep, Scandanavia is not known for its peanut butter fetish. I was in withdrawal. I yearned to spread it on bananas and dip in apple slices so that’s exactly what I did for work and hiking snacks. Neither instance was devoid of comments. One coworker shook their head as “typical American” and the fellow hiker realized it was a good idea providing energy and sustenance in the outdoors. There is no Jiffy on the shelves here, no ma’am. Only the stuff of peanuts and salt. Mr. Ed would surely approve.

4) Almond marzipan tart. I’ve had to re-learn the true practice of will-power and restraint. These morsels of sweet gooey, puffy, yet crispy goodness are best understood in three layers. The bottom being a buttery, homemade pie crust. The middle layer is fresh marzipan… like nothing that is found in the US. The top is a sweet puffy layer of crisped, yet fluffy sponge that tastes like angel food cake. I suspect this delicate mantle is beaten egg whites and sugar. The heavenly result is genius and a creation I’d like to replicate at home.

5) 3 weeks to find hummus. Those that have dined next to my kitchen know it’s a Sas staple and sacrilegious in the vegetarian world to make it so reserved. For those unfamiliar to both, it’s like a costumed child knocking on front doors on Halloween night only to discover one house out of 8 blocks actually offers candy. It’s been eight weeks, and hummus has been offered once. I did make it at a coworker’s hours, however there was only a blender to use (not a food chopper), so it didn’t turn out quite right. Blasphemy!

The soft, therapeutic introduction to the Enya album just started wafting from the pine rafters.

6) “I don’t deserve this meal” has crossed my mind on two dining occasions. That has not happened ever before when at a restaurant nor for home cooking. The practical explanation of this could be that never have I dined alone for so long. My dinner conversations are offset by a tourist brochure, reading book, or now computer. When the food arrives, it is almost startling. Each flavor is dissected, questioned, and finally analyzed by the tastebuddies and saliva. They work together to develop complex algorithmic solutions to the ingredients and preparations of the meal variables. I require them to show all their work that achieved the final answer, so most of the time it involves many forkfuls to arrive at the savory answer. An unadorned reason for this thought is “wow, the food is superb… at least in comparison to the English skills of the menu translator”.

7) Apple pie with strawberry sauce. The owner of Stragata claimed this was the best dessert. It was good, really good. The apples here are as fresh as if you plucked them from your private orchard. The strawberry sauce was certainly made by the chef (though from what strawberries I remain clueless). Since noting this comment, the chocolate fondant -more of a rich, chocolate lava bundt cake, is way more appealing for the chocolate monster that lives within. I will certainly be demolishing it on a future special night.

Well, that explains the foodie observations made over the past two months. Those still engaged may ask, “what dining obsession do you miss most from Cali?” The answer to that is my husband. Oh, you mean food? That too, is an easy answer… fresh squeezed orange juice. It’s my personal wake-up and go-go juice in the morning. To be greeted with it at the airport [hint Jamie hint], would be a most refreshing welcome back to Cali.


Afterword:
This entry concluded with the last sip of wine. I went to pay the bill and the waiter claimed, “ohhh, I was just going to bring you another glass of wine”. I replied with a “that’s okay,” and paid the full bill. The owner added, “yes, where are you off to so soon?” He then proceeded to pour a special glass of wine (beyond my normal house red order) and force it down my throat. Not ten minutes later he delivered a still-warm chocolate fondant ladled with a walnut fruit cream and that strawberry sauce, with a sidekick of homemade ice cream; it was an edible masterpiece. He claimed that it was a “mistake” from the kitchen. I strive to have such mistakes. They may negate my work-out efforts, however one must enjoy life’s small pleasures … chocolate in any way, shape, or form.

02 Nov - Efficiencies

One of the culture aspects that continues to impress me is the Norwegian efficiency. The US may have tried to implement efficiency in corporations and production environments. At least it has been attempted, that’s more than could be said for our government. Remind me, why do we still use paper ballots?

First worthy mention are the toll booths… or lack thereof. Don’t get me wrong, even the roads cost money in this expensive country, however there are no booths. Actually, there are signs that specifically say “do not stop, do not slow down”. All cars must have the electronic toll card in their windshield (including rental cars), so all tolls are drive-thru at 60+km/hr (~40 mph). Oh yes, Norway will take your money as quickly as possible.

Second, the grocery store check-out follows the same “quick money” motto. When the grocery bill is totaled, do not hand all your cash to the checker clerk. Hand the bills to the clerk and deposit coins in the coin machine. The same machine that dispenses coins for your change, will gladly eat your metal currency. If you do hand them to the clerk, there is a roll of the eyes before the clerk’s arm reaches over and the hand blindly deposits them in the machine’s mouth. That hand knows right where the slot is from the previous Americ.. oblivious customers.

Third, the metal tokens themselves are efficient… or maybe just inflated. The currency coins are in equivalent US amounts of $3.75, $1.75, $0.20, and $0.10. They have no equivalent nickels , let alone pennies. Actually, the dime equivalent is treated like a hot potato. If you can offload them onto the clerk, you “win”. Not even the parking meters accept the low-life half kroner.

Fourth, the little ticket that waits in line for you. At NY delis and the DMV, I was introduced to the Take-A-Number system. You find the little red dispenser, tear off the ticket, peek over everyone else’s shoulders to see whom to trade with, then fall in your seat until the red lights proclaim your number. Never have I seen such a system in an event venue (Oslo Opera House). I’m surprised more corporations have not caught onto the idea that the person can relax and browse the floor while waiting. The customer is not restricted to a certain location. This has worked well in the Post Offices where there are other items to buy (cards, bookmarks, post cards, ribbons, wrapping, and boxes with a cherry on top). I’ll restrain myself from any comments regarding our homeland’s government postal system. The trickiest part of this number pull system is when the little red number spewer is not in an obvious location or there are enough people browsing to take the attention away from the lighted signs that if they installed any further from eye-level, would be part of the ceiling tiles. It’s especially embarrassing when the oblivious customer approaches the counter, back of the neck burning from the browsers’’ scowls, only to be rejected by the counter worker to “take a number” (but in Norwegian).

The fifth, last (for tonight), and most effective is nothing new… traffic circles. They are scary to less experience circlists and those whom are used to the peace of the traffic light. Jamie was white knuckled while sitting passenger in a couple of the dozen circles we circled. It would be great to see circles replace the 4-way residential stops in the South Bay. I can even imagine a creative, partially underground one at some of the Pacific Coast Highway intersections. They are fun to drive, easier on the neck (only look one direction), force cars to slow down, and for those that don’t the pedestrians at least gets a squealing tire warning of the oncoming hurdle.

That’s my thoughts on efficiency. If anyone knows a government official that has any access to any of these five topics, please let me know. Enjoy!

31 Oct – Halloweenless

From Norway

It’s a most unusual Halloween. I hesitated plugging in my laptop for fear that the train carriage’s electricity would fail. There is a group of eight football (aka soccer) fans chanting to their laptop’s music and warming up their livers for a big game tomorrow. If their team wins this match, they will be promoted to the highest division. I’m on a cross-country train from Bergen to Oslo. For the past three hours, the carriage has sped past fjord-side farms, evergreen peaks, and over snowy high country (above tree-line). It’s as close to the Polar Express as I may ever get, red colored train and all. It’s quite rowdy in here and a quiet wonderland out there… beautiful.

The past day and a half in Bergen lived up to and surpassed expectations. As promised, Bergen is wedged between seven peaks and the wide fjord. Being on a ship for the past 6 days, Jamie & I were feeling altitude confinement. We trudged across town with luggage in tow, and dropped the baggage at the hotel (reserved four hours ago via internet on the boat). We headed up and up and up to the closest, most popular of the seven peaks. The forest at the top had troll totem pole art scattered amongst the wet mossy earth and pine trees. There were rope swings, crawling tubes, and challenging steep wooden rope bridges that have long been outlawed by US cities to avoid lawyer confrontations at the cost of child’s play. The sun was just tucking in behind the watery horizon as we summited. We bypassed the electric cable car up the slope, however the hordes that used it, beat us to the souvenir and restaurant at the top. It really was a great view of the colorful, active town. Once again, we really lucked out with the weather. Known as a wet, dismal city, we had dry overcast clouds followed by a completely sunny day.

On the sunny day, we walked a self-guided tour around the various neighborhoods of harbors and old timbered houses built not six inches from each other. Fires plagued the city over the centuries taking down rows of these timbered establishments; however they are part of Bergen’s historic heart. They are very quaint and charming.
One can only eat so much cream and fish. I joked that my belly had expanded so much that it needed its own bed. I mentioned we need to start leaving five minutes early because my belly would now arrive 5 minutes before me. And so is probably typical after a cruise. After the Norwegian boat fare, I was craving fresh Norwegian breads, and anything foreign. The idea of eating breakfast in a bakery was most exciting. Various rolls filled that gap. We found a Tex-Mex restaurant that served up some homemade $18 margaritas in martini glasses (homemade meaning with fresh lime juice… no syrup) and we split a veggie fajita plate (no money left after the beverages!). Some of you may remember my experience upon arriving in Oslo airport with the Duty Free (see the 1st entry). Alcohol is very restricted (as the soccer fans across the aisle continually pile empty 20 oz beer cans at their feet). It’s only sold at government run Vinmonopolets (Wine Monopoly) that results in expensive alcohol that is only available during particular times. The second night Jamie brought back Vietnamese food to the hotel room. I know, shake your heads all you want or roll your eyes. It’s really a challenge finding good foreign food here. I’ll take advantage of it while in a city!

The Sogndal soccer fans engaged Jamie in a long conversation about their down-home upbringing in small towns and the need to move to Bergen to get jobs. They analyzed a map about the different western regions of fjords and mountains. The singing and chanting has increased to every other song. I believe they are disembarking within the next half hour or so. They generously gave us a team Sogndal knit scarf. After some post-game research on the game results, I think I’ll wear it to work on Monday.

Halloween was completely void of any pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns. Norway has not celebrated this holiday in its history. It is only in the past five years that trick-or-treating is starting to catch-on with the kids. The adults are discouraging of this new activity. At this point, it is seen as more of a tradition being advertised to the kids and pushed by the businesses as a money-making scheme. Many adults (some parents included) reject the idea. Jamie & I stopped by a coworker (now friend’s) and her boyfriend’s house to have a chat before leaving to drop Jamie off at the airport. While we were at their house, one trick-or-treater knocked on the door. The boyfriend put on his white grueling mask and hobbled away to answer the door. He was certainly enjoying the scream reactions from the costumed visitors.

Two weeks ago at work we had discussed Halloween. I brought them up to speed, starting with the history of Halloween and ending with the crazy decorations and tricks that people do to trick-or-treaters today. It made for some good laughs. The Norwegians talk about it with an air of disdain. They informed me that just in the past year or two the residents are starting to understand that by turning lights off, it will deter the kids. Prior to that, the early trick-or-treaters (5 years ago) were knocking on doors to clueless people and walked away dejected… though not enough to try again next year. With the proliferation of fast food joints and now a tradition that encourages kids to request free junk food, the American ploys are not too popular among Norwegian parents. I can’t say I blame them; I’m sure it’s tough to fend off the pesky corporation schemes to the big pleading eyes of your own child! I simply miss carving and eating pumpkins. I’ll have to make up for it at Thanksgiving. Hope you had a good Halloween!

28 Oct - Last Full Sea Day

From Norway

Last full day aboard involved more motoring time than usual. We awoke to the docking in the fjord-side community of Trondheim, Norway’s 3rd largest city. Jamie and I vigorously walked for almost two hours through the center, past the famous cathedral, and up the hill to the old fort. It was an enjoyable town with waterways, old colorful buildings, and boats docked on the waters. The streets were alive with walkers and bikers commuting to work. This is the first stop where the ship was not visible from the highest point around. In the past ports, the cruise ship has resembled a town construction project that lacked a building permit… oversized and out of place.

Despite the morning walk, we spent an hour doing laps on Deck 5 after the best lunch yet (smoked cod and some potatoes, green onions and cheese gently spiced with chili powder). The weather surpassed the previous days with endless sunshine and no wind, which made the walking and views worth every moment. Our eyes were peeled for wild life, however we missed it all, if there was any to be missed.

On a daily basis, we’ve been conducting our own private happy hours in the empty upper lounge. We fill up our plastic cup from our Malbec meritage wine box, and grab our books for an easy afternoon read. The sunsets are not to be missed during this time. The sky resembles a rainbow trout… pink, light greens, and blues. The time of the sunset continually changes. The sun set tonight was over 1.5 hours later than the time it set from our Northerly departure port. It’s quite amazing. Keep in mind, the sunrise is changing by just as much. Therefore, 4 hours of sunlight was gained by going roughly 5 degrees south in latitude. Keep in mind the sun already is setting earlier and earlier each day, yet we’re going south faster. Jamie mentioned it’d be a good problem for a Physics major to figure out how the sunset time due to boat’s change in latitude versus daily losing daylight factors affect each other. He quickly corrected himself with “physics student” before I could press the challenge to him!

Dinner tonight was pumpkin soup starter (it was disappointing), halibut entrée, and some sort of ice cream ladyfinger whipped cream cake that was brought out from the kitchen with sizzling sparklers. On the way out of the dining room, I stopped by the lonely old couple’s table. This couple has eaten by themselves at the same table for every meal. She is restricted to a wheelchair, so he waits on her hand and foot. They are very quiet, petite, and the sweet old couple that fairytales idealize. Observing their routines, my feelings towards them turned to a sort of shame or sorrow since they were being ignored by the rest of the passengers. Everyone else was having a boisterous good time and the lonely old couple sat by themselves, at a handicap reserved table. This evening I put a hand on her shoulder and complimented her on her Norwegian knit sweater. She looked up through her big glasses and offered her cold hand, which I met with my other hand. Her husband clarified the compliment while the old lady kissed my hand. It turns out they were from Holland and had done the cruise in 1996. They were staying in the same exact room they had slept in 13 years ago. That cruise was Polarlys’s second cruise and they said there were just 10 people onboard. Amazing! They were cheerful to have this small chat and if we see them in the cafeteria for lunch, perhaps we’ll join them tomorrow.

After the evening’s port stop, we met up with our London dining partners and split their bottle of sparkling wine, which came with their room suite. We came armed with a bottle of red and spent the rest of the evening (until 11pm) chatting it up.

Tomorrow afternoon we will arrive at our departure port of Bergen, Norway’s 2nd largest city. Almost a week of cruising is a perfect amount of time. Living in the small quarters, the limited yet endless quantities of food, and restricted exercise facilities is starting to wear on my body. We have a day and a half in Bergen and will likely grab a hotel in the town to make a home-base for two nights. Bergen was Norway’s capital for much of the country’s history and is still known today as the prettiest city of them all. It’s surrounded by seven peaks, all connected by a hiking trail that is accessible from a cable car up the mountain. There are a few key sites to see and activities to experience. I dare say we will skip the ferry tours.

27 Oct - Watercolors on Western Norwegian Waters

Ahoy! The days pass by surprisingly quickly. I’ve had barely anytime to read my book and have not done any knitting! During the daylight hours we’re dining, doing laps on Deck 5 while searching for sea-life (seals, fish, and sea eagles thus far), observing the docking procedures, or painting. Yes, there are two artists on board who are putting together a cruise DVD of pictures and video. They also brought art supplies and have done three art “sessions” since we’ve come onboard. I’ve done four water color postcard paintings and have really enjoyed it. I think I’ll get a small kit for my future trips. It’s an activity that is relaxing and travels well. I wait for the dark hours to write the blog and check emails.

This cruise doubles as a ferry, so it takes 4-6 stops per day and a few in the middle of the night. We generally stay on the boat for the 15 minute stops and disembark for the 30-90 minute stops. This might beg the question, “is that enough time to see the land sights?” Yes, it most certainly is. These towns are quite small. They are increasing in size the further South we go, however 30 minutes is still enough time to get a feeling for the fjord side village’s personality. The number of excursions that passengers can sign-up for are drastically reduced this time of the year both for the weather (it’s too cold and un predictable for zodiacs, and not enough snow for dog sledding) as well as reduced number of passengers. There has already been a cancellation of one of the outings due to not enough participation. The remaining excursions are basically bus tours of the town or land that either meet the boat at the next port or if it’s a long enough stop, return to the same dock.

A spectacular performance occurred on the ship today. Some see such an act of bravery on their “cruises from hell” and most never have the opportunity to be this type of spectator. There was a helicopter rescue drill this evening. The loudspeaker provided a 15 minute warning, mentioning that passengers should not go outside on the boat’s stern. Everyone casually ended their activities (in our case reading & painting) and headed to the back of the boat. My station was on Deck 7 at the rear of the boat in the doorway. I shut off the automatic door such that it was permanently open. Jaime headed to the outside balcony of Deck 5 along with the rest of the interested passengers and crew. It was quite a show! A helicopter hovered 30 ft above the back corner of Deck 7. First, down came a rope, next zip-lined a florescent rescue dude, followed by a metal box. After some scrambling, up went the box, then dude, and I retreated from my station to Deck 6. The back of Deck 6 had a close-up view and deafening hum of the helicopter. It then whizzed away. I imagine this training is a very rare event because the boat crew was standing on the back decks with the passengers. What luck.

This evening we docked at another nameless town. It really does have a name, it’s just at this point they all start melting together in my memory, so they are now referred to as the time of day, for example, “this evening’s stop” or “this morning’s stop”. At this evening’s stop, a Northbound Hurtigruten ship (Midnight Sun, except in Norwegian) roped up behind us. We scuttled around the upper floors of it and were impressed by the openness and airy-ness of the decks (aka stories of the ship), however we marked it down due to the color scheme (neutral colors) and its covered lap deck which minimizes the view. This ship was finished in 2003, ten years after Polarlys (our ship) was commissioned. Ours resembles more of a teal 80s casino, however we’ve adjusted to it and now appreciate the bright nautical colors.

We are tuckered out tonight and plan to get to bed early. The sleeping on the ship is wonderful. Our room has two trundle beds, which keeps the room efficient and spacious. The sleeping is wonderful and very quiet. Our dinner dining partners (the next youngest couple, from London) invited us to share their champagne. Perhaps we’ll toast to the wonderful luck we’ve had on this cruise. They learned today, straight from the captain, that it’s extremely rare to see the Northern Lights this early in the season, let alone as good as we saw them. That was the best show he’s ever seen in October. We’ve also had great weather. It has sprinkled once and rained for 20 minutes… which is a walk in the park compared to the typical stormy autumns. We have one more full day left on the ship. The big stop tomorrow morning is Trondheim. It’s a 3.5 hour stop and we plan to walk for most of it.

Yes, yesterday was my birthday. We celebrated by opening a bottle of California Red Zinfandel (from Oslo airport’s Duty Free store) and Jamie had brought some gifts. I poured a glass of the Zin for Harry, a lively old London chap. We had a solid conversation about a variety of topics (from family/career to health care, Obama, and the war). It was quite fun to get another perspective, for him as well. At dinner they served me a special little fondant cake that I shared with our dinner dining couple. Upon rolling out of the dining room, Harry caught me by the sleeve and convinced the fellow diners to sing Happy Birthday. He then continued with two other passengers claiming it had been their birthdays within the past week, so the room sung the song two additional times. As I said, Harry is an active one! It was quite a lovely day to turn 29.

25 Oct – Enlightened Experiences

From Norway

Now comes the time to describe the in-describable. This has always been a most curious phenomenon that has triggered more questions for me than I’ve found answers… the Northern Lights, a.k.a Aurora Borealis. Thank you to those whom sent glowing thoughts our way.

During the after dinner laps around the ship, Jamie and I observed the night sky activity. It was around 8:30pm. As the laps progressed, we noticed a couple light stripes across the sky, similar to the milky way. With each lap the stripes intensified to the point of being light gray streaks with a curvature of a rainbow. This spurred a conversation of “how intense do the Northern Lights have to be in order for these weathered captains to announce them?” The question was answered not five minutes later with the loud speaker reporting “there are some Northern Lights building ahead of us”. Sure enough the crowd of a dozen other people joined us on the deck to observe the “building”. The streaks had split and were turning a very slight greenish hue on either side of the boat. The streaks formed blobs (slower than the eye could notice) and parts of the blobs would turn a brighter green before diluting. After 15 or 20 minutes the lights dimmed, the temperature was nipping at the under layers, so we returned inside.

Around 9:30pm we bundled back up and returned outside. The rumor on the ship was that the previous nights’ performances were great from 9:30-10:30pm. Jamie and I had the lap deck to ourselves. It was the best light show of my life.

These streaks were moving so quickly across the sky. We were on one side of the boat and watching the green streaks shoot towards us, and disappear over the boat. I ran around to the other side of the boat where we watched them dance over us and drizzle down across the darkness. These lights truly do dance. There are small light bundles that drop like fingers playing a piano and it’s impossible to tell where exactly they will land next. They know they’re route, as they seem to follow a general direction across the sky, however the smaller paths form swirls and swoops.

The speeds of the light streaks vary. In the beginning they were sluggish and the eye was able to notice the light intensity changes, however unable to see any movement. For this private showing, I was literally running back and forth, head bobbing as if observing a tennis ball during an Olympic match. All the meanwhile I was screaming “OH MY GOSH” around every corner of the ship. I do not remember myself ever, EVER behaving this way. It was ridiculous and Jamie was keeping up the pace behind me. After ten minutes of this track practice, it settled down and I wanted to figure out how to capture it on film. Just taking a no-flash picture was not working. Jamie helped adjust the ISO setting and shutter speed so by the time the lights were warmed back up, my Powershot was ready. Despite the adjustments, the photos still are not as brilliant nor lively as the live show.

The cruise crowd was drizzling back out the doors for more show. The remaining lights were intense in color, but not as quick as our private performance. They did show up on film, so I’ve uploaded one of the pictures. The internet is quite slow, so additional pictures will have to wait until later. There is certainly an eerie aspect to the lights. The kids that grow up in Northern Norway grow up with the old wives’ tale that if they wave a white cloth at the lights, the lights will dive down to pick them up and take them away. Our luncheon comrades confirmed this tale and said they would do a wave out the front door and then shut the door quickly. This kept them occupied for hours.

Today we disembarked in the northernmost town in the world… Hammerfest. It is further north than Russia, Alaska and the Canadian islands. It was fairly cold with a dusting of snow on the ground. There was a great hike up the hill behind town so we conquered that bit. There were dozens upon dozens of snow fences that escorted us up this hill. They must be there to prevent a snow drift cornice from forming and dropping onto the town below. Completely unintentionally, I’ve been to the world’s southern-most city (Ushuaia) and northern-most town. The cultures may have a lot in common geographically and statistically, however have quite different towns and businesses. There was a brand new oil facility (largest technological project in Northern Norway) just on an island outside of town. Its natural gas well and dredging is completely under the sea hundreds of kilometers out. There are no barges nor platforms visible.

The terrain has changed from the low-lying barren rock, to snow capped rocky peaks that penetrate the sea with a vengeance. This land is only for hearty inhabitants that can brave the harsh conditions. We’ve met a few of the brave souls today. They take this ferry to travel to the hospital in Tromso, as well as visit family on the weekends. It’s a great experience and quite different from the normal cruise. This afternoon between deck laps and port visits, we painted through an art class. There is an art teacher on board and provided all the tools (water color tube paints and postcards). It’s a fantastic activity to do with these huge windows and scenery. We really enjoyed it. That might be atypical from the regular cruise. It’s such a small group that we can recognize everyone, let alone know some of their life stories.

Many of the fellow passengers are from England. Another point to this not being a typical cruise, as I type this, I’m wearing a sweater, long johns, and socks, sprawled out on a leather booth/couch, with Jamie lying at my side and there are two other people (one in a down puffy jacket) in the entire 200-person capacity lounge. What a life for a week!

24 Oct – 1, 540 Miles to Go

Sure enough the sun broke over the Kirkenes hill shortly before 10am. It likely rose around 8:30, however took and hour and a half to breach the hill’s crest, and it is only a hill, no mountain. The sun today never got above a thumb’s distance from the horizon. At noon, I extended my arm, put my lower thumb knuckle at the horizon, and the top of my thumb blocked the sun. That was high noon (~2 inches from the horizon). It took 3 hours to get there, and took another 3 hours to dip below by 3:30pm. It made for one long happy hour, errr… sunset of a day.

Chilling is a fitting term for the temperature. After being here in the country for a month, my body can get the celcius temperature correct within 1-2 degrees. Today, it never got above freezing. It was very cold, and the morning walk around town did more than just wake us up. After an hour and a half of being exposed to the elements, our legs were stiffening up. It was time to return to our hotel for check-out and bus pick-up to the dock.

We had observed the Polarlys ship’s arrival in the bay and had done some research on-line, so we were aware it was a medium-sized cruise ship (capacity is 737 people). We also knew that this is the ship’s “off season” so we were curious to how many passengers would be on the ship. Now here is the kicker, Jamie & I are 4% of the passengers on-board… there are a whopping 44 other cabin passengers! We can really just pick any lounge/bar area and have the place to ourselves. We have done some laps around the ship’s deck (you can imagine my energy bundle explosions need attention) and we don’t pass a single person for the entire 20 minute walk. Amazing!

During summer and winter months the ship is packed. There are lines everywhere and the lounge seats are taken, not to mention passengers pay full price. The only reason we could afford this trip was for USA residents traveling this time of the year, two people cruise for the price of one. The deal was truly confirmed today when calculating the advertised lunch and dinner prices. Since the cruise doubles as a water taxi between ports, there are temporary passengers that will pay for meals. When summing up the price of lunch + dinner for the two of us for the 5-6 days we’re on the boat, that cost is more than our total trip. So, that’s the economic news.

Lunch was buffet style featuring catfish (though there were plenty of other goodies to chose from). We dined with a couple from Vardo whom had just returned from a week in Bejing. They were temporary passengers that had flown into the Kirkenes airport and were getting off at the next stop. She was head of VIP & Sponsoring for the professional snowball fights. I’m dead serious. There are rules that parallel capture the flag or paintball. They have annual tournaments against the Russians (by the way, we saw Russian land today) that involve beer and they have had games against Korea that involved Sake. It is quite a serious sport as the snowballs are machine made and seem to resemble small ice cannon balls that can provide great injury to it’s target… you. She had gotten a bloody head when a “snow ball” hit her helmet, causing her helmet to puncture her forehead. The amusing part of these injuries is that it’s so cold out and the adrenaline is pumping, that victims can’t always tell (or feel) when there’s been a hit. They hoped we could peak some interest in California, I’m not sure the Lake Tahoe residents are beefy enough though. Anyways, when we have a faster internet connection, I’ll check out her website. In the meantime, you can check it out here .

One of the most interesting facts of the day, special thanks to the luncheon couple, relate to the dozens of large fishing vessels. They proudly displayed a single Norwegian flag on the main mast, followed by a few Russian flags decorating the stern. Apparently they are impounded Russian ships. The Russians have not paid their taxes or dues, so Norway impounds the large boats. The Russians don’t have the money to right the situation, so they just live on these rusty vessels on the waterfront in Kirkenes. We did see two Russians in the morning (they were in stereotypical Russian hats… a fur bomber hat or a black beret). On the side, the Russians “own” the King Crabs in the sea. From my understanding, the Norwegians are only permitted to haul out so many. King Crab was part of the lunch and Jamie confirmed the tastiness of their long legs.

This afternoon the cruise provided a short documentary on Vardo, the next port. It was a major (although illegal at the time) trading port between Northern Norwegians and Russians. Russians needed food and Norwegians needed flour and wood (there are absolutely no trees up here… it’s barren). The black market traded salty fish for bark and flour. The trading benefited both cultures tremendously, so until the King of Denmark/Norway permitted the trading in the 1700s, it was illegal but necessary for survival.

Tonight we are crossing our fingers to see the light show. The ship has seen the Northern Lights for the past two evenings, so is a decent chance. The Northern lights were my main site-seeing goal for coming up to Northern Norway. We have no other plans for the evening, but do have our books and the on-board library to tire our eyes.

On a side note, even cooler than the ship’s actual location website (on the previous entry), is the Polarlys ship’s webcam Ahoy mates!

23 Oct - 69.725 Degrees Latitude

Jamie & I made it to Kirkenes. We're a few miles from the Russian border, above the article circle, and the hotel room window is still opened a crack. That didn't stop Jamie from checking in early. He's a bit tuckered out from the traveling of the past 36 hours.

After I finished up work today, we did some exploring of the local swiss cheese hills (swiss cheesed from the silver mine shafts). For lunch we stopped at a cheese farm where they served us a 4-cheese and cracker plate with tea. While eating, we looked down into the cow barn where cows were socially eating, automatic scrapers cleaned the floors, the cows browsed the colder outdoor pen, and the cows voluntarily walking into the milking machine to get milked. Truely happy cows (as opposed to CA CAFOs) and great cheese!

With the spare time we had, we parked in Oslo and took a walk around Oslo hitting the main attractions (marina, palace, stroget, train station, and opera house). Great to stretch the legs, though it turned out with Oslo traffic, the "spare" time was much less than originally thought. We made it to the airport 45 minutes before the flight and were able to return the car, check us in and our 2 checked bags, through security and to the gate with 20 minutes to wait before we boarded. Phew!

Kirkenes is a tiny, one-terminal airport. I had little knowledge of the transportation other than taxis were super expensive, there is a bus in the daytime, and town 15-20 minutes away. Fortunatley, there was a bus idle so I asked the bus driver what time he left (wanted to make sure we didn't miss it!). His response was "until the terminal is empty". Great. It was below freezing with flurries in the air, though barely a dusting on the ground. Looking forward to seeing this place with the sun up... although that might not happen until 10am. We shall see.

Jamie has already started dreaming of our adventure to come in the coming days. If you'd like to follow our ship, click here . Not sure what the internet access will be like on the boat, so that websit may be the only updates you get for a little while. Sails away MS POLARLYS!

19 Oct - Ugly Man

From Norway

The week started escaping me before it even begun! Between work, preparing for Jamie’s visit, packing up, and shopping for dinner (including pumpkin pie) ingredients for another cook-in-someone else’s-kitchen evening, it’s been quite busy. This will be a short entry to catch up on the rest of the weekend.

Sunday’s breakfast at the hotel on Smögen was just as good as the Marstrand hotel breakfast. This one provided an assortment of berries, to put over the sour milk (similar to unsweetened yogurt). In addition to blackberries, I believe some of them were Lingon berries and the rest remain unknowns. They were yummy… the first berries I’ve had in over a month.

By 8am I was on the road returning to Kongsberg. My coworker and I had plans to hike Styggemann (stig-e-man: ugly man), a popular trail in the greater Kongsberg area. This is the same coworker whom’s house I cooked at a couple weeks ago. The day was clear, but cold. The terrain was icy, muddy, and even a dusting of snow at times. On hikes over the past few weekends, I was always drooling over warm snacks that other hikers were enjoying… whether it was cooked over an open fire or kept warm by thermos. All I was equipped with was crackers, honey, apple, pear, peanut butter, and cold water.

Today’s hike was different; today I was going to have a hot meal! Before we reached the top, we put our bags down next to a lake and my coworker unpacked her kit. She had brought her stove, soup mix, home-picked and dried mushrooms, cream, lingon berries, and herbs from her garden. I scooped water from the pond… well the pond was iced over, however there was running water not too far away and everything was boiled together while we snacked on the crackers and apple. Once it was ready, it was delicious and I savored every hot sip. This is one lesson learned that can be incorporated into the winter snowshoe trips at the cabin!

The view from ugly man’s bald head was better than expected. The Oslofjorden (including a ferry) could be seen, as well as Gaustatoppen (the peak climbed a few weeks ago), the village of Kongsberg, and the swiss cheese mountain (swiss cheese because the silver mines make so many holes in it). It was clear and beautiful. After some Norwegian milk chocolate (it’s good!), we skipped down the mountain. When I write “skipped,” perhaps a better word would be “stumbled” or “tripped”. It was tough keeping up with my coworker. At some points I was just sitting on my butt and sliding down the icy rock. It was all in good fun. I’m trying to convince her and her boyfriend to come vacation in CA. I think she’d really enjoy all the outdoorsy activities.

That about sums it up! I’m off to start a day a work and continue the “Jamie gets here” countdown. Skol! (sckole: “Cheers” in Norwegian).

18 Oct - Swedish Island Hopping

From Sweden

Marstrand Sweden brought back memories of my childhood weekends on the boat anchored at Block Island, Nantucket, Essex, Martha’s Vineyard, or Cuttyhunk. This small island was heavily focused around serious sailing (it’s where the Swedish Match Cup is held), just as the New England marinas. The buildings had detailed trim and railings, almost to the extent of Martha’s Vineyards Victorian homes. Most of the buildings were white with red roofs, similar to some found on Block Island. The landscape was the tell-tale sign that this was no New England port.

Saturday morning was the laziest morning yet. The complimentary breakfast had oranges and a juice press offered. Wow! The oranges’ flavor was a bit flat, not as fresh/tangy as SoCal, but I was still very thankful to have any fresh juice at all! The only other difference from the standard Norwegian buffet was the sour milk. There were bowls of various hearty cereals and two bowls of white stuff. One bowl was labeled as “fruit yogurt” and the other as “sour milk”. I went for it thinking it’ll be like the Norge’s sour yogurt. It was sourer and had less structure than the other yogurts, and just as good. The yogurts of Scandinavia are sights better than the US yogurts. I wish the US dairy farmers processed it the same and disregarded the added sugars!

My new friend Karen joined me at breakfast just as I was ready to depart. Instead, I grabbed a cup of tea. After some conversation, she informed me that the teen sailors had taken a morning run around the island, and were jumping on the boats at 10am. She wanted to watch the herd depart. I wasn’t far behind. The front desk provided me an island map, which showed a surprising amount of greenery. The cobblestone boardwalk guided me along the island’s edge for a bit. At the North end the 60 teens were zig-zagging their sails back and forth in a tight pack… without collisions nor capsizing. A whistle blew from one of the inflatable dinghies with a “1 minute warning” in English. There were Finland kids participating, so the coaches used English for everyone. Towards the end of the minute, the boats all started facing the same direction and sure enough a second whistle marked the start of the race. Other than a few confused sails still hovering in the back, all sails were pointed seaward. What fun!

It was an absolute beautiful day... bright sun, light wind, and not a cloud in the sky. The walk around the island was great. It’s perfect for kids to run and hike around on the trails through the woods and on the rocks. The walk ended at the houses and stores. There were only two stores open (it’s the off-season), so I browsed them both. One of the stores was an art compilation from various folks (glass maker, knitter, pottery, paint, nautical lights, etc.). Each artist took turns running the store for a day. Today it was the glass artist and she once again proved that it’s a small world. In conversation it came up that I was from California. She had just sent a glass bowl to a couple in California whom was in the store a couple weeks ago. I asked if she remembered what town. She said, “Oh yes, I had to google earth the address to see where they lived. The town was Man-hat-tan Beach.” Enough said.

By noon my Marstrand visit had expired. I took the return ferry ride with the hotel receptionist. She asked if I’d figured out where I was going next. The meal comrade (Karen) had suggested another quaint Swedish seaside resort that sounded like “Smorfgen”. I tried that pronunciation in this conversation, and she immediately knew what I was talking about. She agreed that it would be a fine destination. That sealed the deal. I packed myself up in the car (no parking ticket!), took a check of the map, and I was on the road again… this time the back roads.

Once in a while the back roads had a peek view of the water, although it was fjord water and not open sea. There was usually a sailboat or motorboat chugging along these waterways. Jobiska would’ve fit right in (Jamie’s old made-in-Sweden sail boat w/ a 3ft keel). When I use the word “fjord” in the same topic of the Sweden coast, it’s overkill. These waterways are lined with evergreen hills or smooth rock. Most comparable to the pacific northwest, and nothing like Norway’s west coast.

After a few hours, I pulled up and over the bridge to the island of Smögen . This island certainly had the potential to meet the quaint requirement. It didn’t full-fill it until after I checked into the only hotel (yes, there was room!) and began exploring. My walk was along the edge of the island. This one had no trees (other than in people’s small yards) and was all rock. The island would be ideal for swimming in the summer (it had various natural pools with ladders onto the rock) and was built around the fishing industry. There was a lovely boardwalk along the fisherman huts. Some were snoozing in the setting sun’s light and some were conversing, still wearing the rubber gear from the day’s work.

The sunset light was beautiful on the rocks and houses. Similar to Denmark, the sunsets are very long here so the lighting is favorable for photographers and artists. I’m neither, so be patient with my snapshots.

The dinner was probably the most disappointing of the trip. It was a beautiful restaurant with an expertly written menu. The chef just didn’t deliver complimentary flavors on the plate nor do justice to the menu’s writer. Oh well, can’t like ‘em all.

Returning to the room, I posted a blog entry before the ritual phone call with Jamie. He would’ve really enjoyed these sea side towns and would’ve been tugging at my jacket to remind me of a phrase I’ve repeated “you can get a boat after we get a house”…. Hmmm ….

16 Oct – Josbiska’s Birthplace, a.k.a. Volvo land

From Sweden

Despite having 6 weeks remaining in Norway, my weekend plans have required advanced planning. My second priority being here is to ascertain my “wanna-see” checklist is complete prior to departure. For those hung up on my first priority, it’s to do a great job at work! Taking into consideration the future visits by Jamie, coworkers, and hopefully a girlfriend, this left my weekend plans with two options. I took the option that was more curious and unknown.

If I got paid a dime every time I saw a Volvo, my credit card might as well have been left behind… and that’s not to say the hotel rooms are cheap. That is Sweden for you. Friday afternoon I tagged along the Volvo trail over bridges, through tunnels, and eventually onto a fairly normal highway next to farmland and forests. Due to road construction, and an earlier sunset the find-a-hotel-before-sunset rule was broken. The upside to breaking this rule is when the sun breaks through your curtains the next morning, there’s brand new surroundings to explore. Opening the curtains is like tearing the wrapping paper on xmas morning… except curtains will be charged to your room.

To my surprise, the road ended. Well, technically it was a circle, however for all intensive purposes, it ended at a ferry ramp. Just as I was adjusting to “reading” Norwegian signs, now the signs are in Swedish. Here’s a quick break down of the Scandanavian languages. Danish words spell the same as Norwegian words though are pronounced completely differently. Norwegian and Swedish have similar sounds, however are spelled completely differently. Somehow, they are all extreme dialects. The Eastern Norwegians and Western Swedes understand each other fairly well due to a sharing of television programs on the networks. If either party is from the other half of the country, there is little to no understanding and both parties will converse in English. Oh, and Finland… don’t even bother… just use English.

Back to being dumbfounded in the driver’s seat and illegally parked on the circle, I tried the only English resource, a kid in a glass-roomed waiting area. He understood the question, but was clueless to the answer. A screen advertised a ferry within 10 minutes (I could see it across the very, very small channel) and the street sign at the car line-up area indicated an event that ended at 18:05. I bought a ticket from the automatic machine (for 1 Adult and 1 Child … due to too-late-to-read-carefully-syndrome) and waited in the car area for the ferry. Nobody was around.

The ferry arrived. At the green light I pulled down the ramp, but not before the Skipper held up his hand and babbled away in Swedish. I requested English and he stated that there are no vehicles allowed on the island after 6:05pm. Ah-hah! That explains all the signs and notices. Next, I asked if there was a hotel open on the island (Marstrand is a very, very small summer resort island). He confirmed the existence of Grand Hotel and offered to call the front desk to determine if there is room. How friendly and considerate! At this point, there was only one other choice and it was a “Konfrence Hotel” that was passed 10km ago… and I was not ready to turn around for a Conference Hotel. Who could give a hotel such an unappealing title?

The Skipper returned to give me good news from the Hotel’s receptionist and I turned up the road to find parking. From the looks of it, there was another confused visitor (she was blocking the road receiving directions from a pedestrian) and I followed her into a parking lot. The signs in this lot were no less confusing than the ferry signs… to pay or not to pay? The lady visitor (Karen) was similarly confused. I found one trash-bag covered pay station and wasn’t satisfied with all the “Privat Parkering” signs, so I re-parked across the street in what seemed to be a public parking area. She followed me, and upon finding another trash-bag-covered pay station, it was confirmed free parking. We lumbered down the sidewalk with our weekend luggage towards the ferry terminal. She was from an island near Moss, South of Oslo. She’s a general practioner with 3 kids, the youngest was part of the exclusive weekend sailing exhibition for the top 13-15yr olds of the Scandinavian countries happening this weekend on the island.

The 3 minute ferry ride was fairly uneventful. The Skipper never checked the tickets, nor for my invisible child. By the time I disembarked, he did confirm that the Grand Hotel was awaiting my arrival. Thanks mate! Turns out Karen is staying at the same hotel (it was the only one open on the island) so we headed down the cobblestone boardwalk together and checked in at the hotel. She invited me to dine with her, so we shared a great meal with good conversation. It was late by the time we were finished, but ever addicted to an after-dinner walk on a full belly, I strolled the darkened cobblestone paths. It was a very spooky walk. The tree shadows transformed the white Victorian homes into a screenplay of goblins and ghouls. The sailboat masts clanked like a chain, the wind howled, and the white picket fence gates moaned. Eerie was an understatement. Needless to say, the walk lasted 15 minutes. Oh, but that was because it was cold.

After a hot scented salt bath, I nestled into bed and had a good night’s rest.

15 Oct – Vocal Trip to Missississippi

This afternoon my coworker (who’s kitchen was invaded the other night), reminded me of a female blues concert that was tonight. It had completely slipped my mind, however my evening was available. We made plans to meet up at 8pm for the event.

After work, I managed to fit in my weekly run on the 5.5 mile loop through the woods and some residential areas. It’s a great challenge as there are fairly steep hills. It was enough running to make room in my belly for a meal at my favorite restaurant… the one where I’m treated like a princess. They were quite happy to see me and this time I sat in the vacant wine-bar/lounge room. The host lit a fire in the nearby wood stove, which made for a perfect ambiance while I finished the final knits and purls on my hat project. The host offered some veggie options not on the menu (stuffed aubergine or mushroom risotto), which was very kind of him. The aubergine dish lived up to the delicious expectations. A couple ladies (one with a big blond afro) sat at a neighboring table and devoured the words on some papers, in addition to their chicken plates. They had to be in some artsy business (who does hair like that?!) and thought maybe they were attending the concert tonight. All I knew I was looking forward to the “chocolate fondant” dessert which was being prepared by “Chef” (as called by the Host). The chocolate plate was a fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate lava cake with a scoop of strawberry ice cream (homemade I think), drizzled with strawberry syrup and a vanilla sauce (both homemade too). Perfection!

My happy belly checked in for the night and I paid the check to get on with the next activity. My coworker and I met up at the hotel lobby and strolled (it was cold!) to the venue down the street. It took a long 10 minutes to wait through the line outside. My coworker met a friend in the army years back and they’ve kept in touch. She told me “she looks like a boy and she’s a lesbian”. Sure enough, this friend, her partner and an old large lady joined us in line. The old lady was the friend’s neighbor whom really appreciates the blues music and local blues festival. They invited my coworker and I to join them at their reserved table… at the feet of the musicians on stage. We were front and center. The old lady made for good chatting while waiting for the show to begin. She disappeared at one point, and the friend mentioned she’s back-stage warming up the performers. She returned to the table for a few minutes and then went up on stage and spoke (in Norwegian) to the audience before introducing the singers. She thanked the audience for coming from Notodden, Kongsberg, and even California. Ha!

The two lady artists were up on stage with their guitars and the lead was telling a story. She, too, managed a California shout-out, however it was more along the lines of “and California we’ll be speaking Norwegian, so you may not understand”. Doh! Yes, I missed the jokes and the small stories, however understood most of what was going on. The show was the history of women in blues. Many of the women they were featuring were from Mississippi. On the screen behind the singers was a slide show of each of the historical blues artists. They included, Memphis Minnie, Big Mama Thornton, Jessie Mae Hemphill and Janis Joplin among others. One of the ladies had even spent time in Mississippi and visited with Jessie Mae. They showed some home footage of the ladies singing one of her songs together. Every song was American and they sounded American when singing them. I was startled when they began speaking Norwegian after the songs as you expect them to speak English after such great lyric pronunciation. When singing in English, there was zero accent. When speaking in English, there was a heavy accent. It’s amazing what melodies and repetitiveness can do for language pronounciation.

Fairly early in the performance, a Norwegian fiddler joined the duo. She had a big blond afro. This fiddler and one of the guitarists were the restaurant table neighbors! Apparently, she’s a well-known and respected fiddler in Norway. She’s close to my age. After the show we were introduced by the old lady and she had remembered me from the restaurant. She had some interesting musician and band experiences (from what I could tell of a Norwegian conversation which is not much).

Since I didn’t take any pictures, here’s a few (found on-line) of the musicians:
Rita Egnedalen and Margit Bakken Blues duo
Tuva Livsdatter Folk music fiddler

They were really talented musicians and it was a fun evening, full of small surprises.

13 Oct - Butternut Squashless

Cooking is an enjoyable, relaxing pleasure of mine that is great fun when shared with friends. I’ve begun to miss it tremendously. Dining alone at restaurants for a month gets old. Autumn is my favorite time to cook. The abundance of vegetables, cooling temperatures, and bright colors are great inspirations to cozy up with hearty soups and meals. Last week I blatantly asked a friendly coworker (my age) if I could come over and cook for her and her boyfriend. I offered to bring all the ingredients and cook, if I could use her kitchen. She was awed at the request and was very happy to entertain the idea. The next day she returned with the night that would work best.

The menu of choice was one of my favorites… and something I knew how to make without a recipe. It would be a hummus dip with bread, goat cheese medallions encrusted with toasted walnuts over a pear & cranberry salad, and a roasted butternut squash soup. Monday after work I browsed the big grocery store in town for the ingredients. A single can of garbanzo beans (for hummus) was over $3! It normally costs $0.99 at home. To my dismay, there were no squashes, let alone a butternut squash. There wasn’t even a pumpkin. The soup plan was exchanged for a cauliflower cheddar soup.

It was great fun. My coworker invited over her girlfriend who loves food and wanted to meet the American. Her sister (whom lives 2 hours away) dropped by for the meal and they were laughing how she never has come to dinner before. The boyfriend took some pictures during preparations and left the house so it was just us girls. We had a fun time preparing the dishes with a glass of wine. The flavors and combinations were all very new to them. They did not know what hummus was, never had it crossed their mind to put a pear in a salad, nor to encrust nuts on goat cheese, let alone a soup of cauliflower (blahhh). They were politely skeptical when observing the preparation of the shallots, cauliflower, and cheeses for the soup. Once it was pureed, we huddled around the blender, spoons in hand, taste-testing the soup from the blender. It was determined a success. They were surprised how each flavor really came through in the result. The cheeses here are superb... most are better than the ones at home.

Dinner conversation was around traveling in the US (2 of the 3 girls had been to FL, one worked at Epcot Center and was amused by the same embarrassing polar bear questions as the ex-Epcot employee I met weeks ago). We also discussed traveling around Norway and the local Kongsberg community. One of the big town news stories of yesterday was a blazing fire that happened the prior night. Part of a building in the technology park burned from 7pm – midnight. The girls were explaining that when both of their boyfriends heard the sirens (a couple miles away), they jumped in their cars and followed the fire engines to the excitement. Apparently, this is routine for them. It was very funny to me, imagining a line of cars following the fire engines for no other purpose than to be an audience. That should be a line in those email chains… “You know you’re in a small town when… the men of the town set up lawn chairs to watch burning buildings”.

Dessert was an assortment of bakery goodies and some rum-marinated plums over ice cream. The host’s grandmother has a plum tree and has handed down the recipe. The basic procedure is to pack plum halves (no pits), lime slices, sugar, and vanilla sticks in a jar. Fill it to the brim with dark rum, and marinate for a month. The result is not only beautiful, but delectable too.

We were all excited that the evening turned out so well and vowed to do it again before my departure. That reminds me to inform you that my time has been extended here. I’ll be staying for an extra three weeks due to a necessary overlap/hand-off with a coworker. My new return will be before Thanksgiving. Thank goodness Jamie arrives soon and we get a week off together!

Next week, there are plans to make a pumpkin pie (from scratch) with a different coworker. Cooking or baking with pumpkins is unheard of by Norwegians so she is very curious about pumpkin pie. Norwegian florists only started selling pumpkins within the past couple years to start imitating the American Halloween. As I mentioned, there were no pumpkins at the grocery store. No pumpkins, no gords, and no candy corn has left me squashless… I mean speechless. Is it really Fall or did I skip it and go straight to winter?

11 Oct – Cultures of Sculptures

From Norway

Sunday morning tried to start way too early. I woke up at 4:30am due to a conversation by ladies in the hotel room next door. They were still going at it when I left the room at 8am for breakfast. It was a museum-weather day (dreary and wet), however the museums do not open on Sundays until 11am. The rain hasn’t melted me yet, so I set off for Vigeland/Frogner Parken.

This park is known for its sculptures of life or should I say life-sized sculptures. Both apply here. Frogner was a man whom dedicated much of his life to making these stone carvings resemble the many experiences an individual experiences throughout a lifetime. The statues are life-size of mothers, fathers, babies, toddlers, adolences, young adults, and up to grandparents. The sculptures show emotions… a toddler throwing a fit, a yound maiden frolicking, a mother doing the daughters hair for an event, etc. At the park peak there is a stone monolith with 100s of bodies carved out in different postures. It’s so life-like you expect one of bodies to start writhing. Fortunately, it does not. Anyways, well done Mr. Frogner.

The return walk involved a stop at the National Museum of Art (it was now 11) and I was able to browse the Edward Munch room (including the famous painting “The Scream”). He is the most famous artist from Norway. His paintings are quite creepy as he seemed to be a dark fellow despite being recognized at the young age of 22. In East Oslo there is a Munch museum that is home to 100s of his paintings. He dedicated all of them to the museum upon his death in the 1950s. There are so many paintings that they rotate them every couple months. My 24 hours were drawing to a close and grabbed the uneventful noon-time train to Kongsberg.

The next visit was to sculptures that took 1000s of artists and 100s of years to create… the Kongsberg Silver Mines. The tour was eye-opening… not only because it was so dark in there you had to open them wide, but the facts surrounding the silver excavation. The silver was discovered by a couple farmers on their land in 1623. They melted it to shape and tried selling it in the nearby towns. They were not very successful, however the word traveled. Soon the FBI equivalent demanded that these farmers release the silver’s source. At the time, Norway was ruled by the King of Denmark (Christian IV) so he dropped by the little silver hill with his entourage. The King put is marking on a rock, determined the silver is to be mined, and pointed out (from the hill) of where the town should be located. He was after as much money as possible to fund the 30yr or 100yr war, and silver was the currency of the day. Money grew in rock.

The King hired Germans miners and engineers to mine the silver as they had experience and Norwegians did not. Kongsberg town was not only almost all Germans, it was also the largest city in Norway at the time. The capital was Bergen (on the west coast). Here’s some other facts great facts:

- Kongsberg mining peaked in the 1770s
- 2.2 lbs of silver was worth 1 man’s salary at that time (today the same amount is $625)
- Per 1 day of mining, the tunnel was 0.5 – 1.2” deeper
- The total mining tunnels are 420 – 600 miles long
- 3,300,000 lbs of silver was mined from Kongsberg
- 16,500,000,000 lbs of rock was mined
- The mines were operational through 1958 (334 yrs!)
- The mint in town is still printing and coining the money for the country

Yes, there are still silver in the mountains. They closed the mines because the silver price dropped so much that it wasn’t worth it. Now our money is based on oil, so what was happening in Kongsberg in 1770 is more or less the equivalent to what we’re doing on the oil dredging platforms today.

As a tour participant, I boarded the train’s mini-containers and shut the caged metal door. The train took us almost a mile down the track in the mountain. When we exited the train, there was 1,000 ft of rock & earth above our yellow hard hats. Yes, it was somewhat unnerving to digest. The deepest shaft is 3,000 ft deep (length of three Eiffel towers), though some of it is now water logged because it’s below the water table. The English guide took us around to various shafts for an hour before we returned to the trains. It was great learning of the engineering feats, how to know where to chip away, and the work life from such an unusual job. It is quite a big history for such a little town.

Back at the hotel after a quick unpacking session, all the flea market purchases got scrubbed clean. Ready for use or ready for packing. A Norwegian sculpture… I mean culture weekend… check!