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!

10 Oct - 24 Hours in Oslo

From Norway

Saturday morning was a sleep-in morning as the first activity did not start until 10am. It was the Kongsberg Farmer’s Market, which may have been the first one ever according to my coworker. It was so important to me that I was giving up Oslo time to do it. The size was as anticipated, about a dozen tables. There was the cured meat, a few vegetables (cabbage, leeks, carrots, potatos), jams, honey, pastries, apples, juices and cheese. I supported the event with a wedge of super dry, flavorful cheese (think parmesan), a white chocolate raspberry muffin, and a 3 liter fresh apple juice box (It was the only size). I’m tired of the wine and water beverages, so fresh apple juice when I return to the hotel room will be a real treat.

An hour and half later, after passing colorful landscapes of rolling hills and water side towns, the train arrived at Oslo’s central station. Norway has been my “home away from home + husband” for a whole month now, and this [Oslo] is the first culture/city experience of my stay. After a week’s worth of research, some of the appealing activities included visiting the Saturday flea markets. I’m not convinced this would’ve been my interest 5 years ago. Here’s why:
Every year in May, Manhattan Beach’s private school organizes a “Sophisticated Snoop” fundraiser. For $25 six wealthy beach “shacks” open their doors for guided tours. One of my hobbies is interior decorating… I may not be very good, but that’s all relative and I can copycat well. Anyways, one of the houses this year really inspired me to use items from other countries (beyond vases, dishes, etc.). My favorite snoop dwelling was decorated using items that fit the house theme and were from the family’s trips around the world. The hanging lights over the kitchen’s island were from a market in Italy. What a great idea… not only is it unique and fit the house, but it is a memory of that trip, foreign village, or maybe the seller’s story whom was involved in the haggling. The only problem with this new realization is that it eats up luggage space quickly. A bud vase is much smaller than a chandelier.

Out to get flea-marked, I stepped North from central station. The flea world I walked into was intense. This first one was under an elevated road and was extremely crowded. The stuff that wasn’t on a table, was just in boxes to be rummaged through. The first box I pawed was of scarves and the first one scarf/hanky unfolded read “….. Harley Davidson, Marina Del Rey”. Oh man, there’s no escaping LA. Not even under a random bridge in Oslo.

There were quite a few goodies I found at this market. The most worthy of mention is a wrought Iron candle holder. It is very similar to a handmade Swedish one that I loved in a store last week. The price tag of $180 kept me from jumping for it. Yikes! The one at the market was sold for $8. Excellent. The second flea market visited that day was on the complete other side of the city. I dropped my bags off at the hotel on the way. This flea market was not crowded and had nicer junk, all to make it a pleasant experience. The main purchase here was a chandelier. Yep. It is a miniature version of some black wrought iron chandeliers I’ve seen on my weekend trips in restaurants and huts. When I saw this one my shoulder dropped from the burden of finally seeing exactly what I have been looking for, and not wanting to hear a high price and the thought of lugging it home. The seller lady saw me touch it and exclaimed, “do I dare tell you the price of THAT” (first in Norwegian, then in English). She continued, “I’ll give it to you at a special deal ‘cause I just want to get rid of it. It hung in our house for many years and my son kept banging his head on it.” Still wary at this point, she announced the price at the equivalent of $9 and all skepticism liquidated. Wow. Apparently it was actually from France originally (even has French bulbs). So, this chandelier will get some travel miles. It will be perfect for over our dining room table. Done deal.

The time was getting on late afternoon and I had big evening plans that needed a clothes change. I charged back to the hotel, armed with two large shopping bags of goodies. There is a note-worthy detour on the return walk. As you are probably aware, just the day before Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. I was most curious to see how the Nobel Peace Prize Center was exhibiting the news. They building décor most certainly was Obama-ed. A vertical banner the height of the building read “From the KING to OBAMA”. Another banner on the left side of the door was a black and white photo of Martin Luther King Jr with “I have a dream…” and opposing it on the right side was Obama with a similar phrase. The handrails had Obama record discs hanging from it. The entrance fee was waived that day (typical for the day after such news is announced) and there was an English tour starting then. I was out of time, but did peek in the main exhibition hall which was all about Obama. The reaction here has been mixed. Of the 4 Norwegians who have chatted about it, three of them have either laugh at what he has achieved to deserve the Prize or s/he was not happy how the Prize’s committee is using the Prize for political charades. The remaining person vocalized that it will serve as a good motivator for Obama to continue to work for peace. Regardless, it’s interesting to discuss it with the locals and since they are a blunt culture, it’s great fun to be a listener.

At the hotel, after a quick change and glance at the dining section of the travel book, the restaurant de jour was Grand Café. Upon request of a window seat, they seated me at the best table in the house, with a front row seat of the corner pedestrian traffic, with a douse of ocean water in a distance. The meal was in the top 3 of the meals I’ve had since in Norway. The starter was Norwegian smoked trout and marinated mushrooms over mixed lettuce with a splash of pesto and seaweed. The entrée was creamed spinach piled on a large cut of Norwegian cod snuggled in lightly creamed scampi pasta. The meal was completely fitting for my fancy night out.

Don Pasquale was the reason behind my “big night out”. He is the main character in the Don Pasquale Opera that is playing at the new Oslo Opera House. This week I found a single opera ticket for $18 and couldn’t pass it up. I’ve never seen an opera and figured a cheap ticket would be reasonable if my tastes were disappointed. Well, disappointing it was NOT. The opera was lively, colorful, creative, fun, and more like a musical. They were singing in Italian, so I didn’t understand it verbally, however each seat back translates the song into simple English or Norwegian phrases. It enables the audience to laugh, relax, or be filled with dread at all the right parts in the story. The pit band was truly talented and the venue acoustics was most impressive.

The opera house is right on the water of the Oslofjorden. It’s new within the past couple years and the structure allows you to walk on the angled roof up to the flat/top roof. It’s a decent night city view from up there. Afterwards, I strolled back to the hotel … which is right on the main square, in the middle of the city action and a couple blocks from the palace. There was a major football (soccer) game happening live, so the bars were inundated with roaring fans.

The impressions of Oslo find similarities with some other cities… parks (including a palace) comparable to London, colorful apartments/buildings a faded shade from San Francisco, street lay-out structured to Copenhagen or Hamburg, water strolling quay resembling Sydney, and the walk-ability of Manhattan. I imagine the weather is closest to Montreal and the prices of New York. This is based on the first 10 hours in the city, and has confirmed that 24 hours will not be enough time in Oslo. Time to optimize for Sunday's urban exploring.

09 Oct – Three times a year

Earlier this week, the plan for tonight was to post the food blog that I’ve been saving for some “down” time. Now that tonight is here, there are other events I’d prefer to share that will be equally entertaining. Part of it is also that my belly if full. The evening ended with a slice of delicious cake… devoured at church.

Every afternoon at work there is an energetic bird that is dressed for a tuxedo affair. It’s white and gray, with a black collar and a splash of yellow on its head. The bird hops around the building entrance just outside my window. As it hops the tail counter balances, creating quite a little dance performance. Many times it is more entertaining than my computer screen. Using the word “tragedy” to describe yesterday’s events would be overkill, however from the bird’s point of view it might be fitting.

Yesterday after lunch I exited the cafeteria and stepped into a process of the receptionist and a cafeteria worker observing some disturbance. Apparently there was a bird… woosh-flap-flap… yep there it is... flying up and down the hallway between the glass doors at both ends. We tried three different times to frighten the bird out the door. One time it was so close, the bird was latched onto the lit exit sign right above the door. It could feel the breeze, but it wouldn’t fly out. It took a wrong turn and flew down another hallway and into the factory (more like a warehouse size) building. We were disappointed. The receptionist was bummed that the bird wouldn’t survive in the factory. It’s actually quite common for birds to live in the rafters, so it was just a matter of time before it happened here. I’d guess it occurs about three times a year, so this one will have to wait a couple months before it will have some company. My selfish bummer was that I have no daily afternoon performances any longer. I’ve since looked up the bird, and suspect it’s a White Wagtail (appropriately named).

To keep my girlish figure while eating out 7 days/week I go running at least every other day. It’s worked so far and the concerns will start when the snow starts sticking and the daylight has retreated by 5pm. Today was the 5.5 mile loop up the local steep hill, pass a pond, through the woods, and down another steep hill. I’m always on the look-out for moose, as they frequent the very same woods. The running gear is currently capris, long sleeve t-shirt and a fleece/knit hat. I’m sure in another 2-3 weeks I’ll need a vest too.

A coworker recommended a historical concert for tonight. It is only for Christmas, Easter and this occasion that the 70+ candles in the church are lit. The candles flicker from the three large baroque/ornate chandeliers that hang perpendicular to the “stage”. Being that this is one of the three times that the candles are lit, it seemed to me the best way to experience the church. The church is a few hundred years old and the organ was inaugurated in 1765. It was shut down in 1889. After a bunch of fundraising and restoration sweat, the pipes blew again in 2001. This evening the organ keys were tickled by a performer from England (David Sanger). He played eight songs from the 1500s – 1700s. The first 5-10 minutes I was skeptical of sitting through an hour of it, however the music/organ sounds slowly grew on me. By the time Bach and the last two songs played I had come to appreciate the sound and his skills. The baker’s skills were also a masterpiece. The concert wrapped up with a slice of white cake, chocolate almond sliver mousse filling, with an almond marzipan icing that was draped over the cake similar to fondant. Pure goodness for the taste buds after getting an organ earful.

06 Oct - Tunneling to Date Night in Oslo

One of the first entries hypothesized that there are many tunnels in this country. Well, I finally have metrics to prove this hypothesis. I counted 25 tunnels on my return trip this past weekend. You may think, “that’s not crazy,” especially for a 5 hour drive. The kicker is the first 20 tunnels were burrowed in 45 minutes. Yes, that’s a tunnel every 2:15 minutes. Some of the tunnels are 100 feet, some are a mile long. Some have lights and some have reflective arms that reach out from the rock, as if they will push you back on the road if you veer to the side. In reality I think they just spring back, allowing you to demolish your vehicle into the wall.

My car’s “Service Engine” light had started blinking a couple weeks ago. Coincidentally, it started about the day the rental agency expected the car to be returned (my travel arrangements were faulty). Long story short, after work on Tuesday I made the trip to Oslo airport to exchange the vehicle. While at it, I would get a smaller car… both to save money and have a convenient road-sized vehicle. Oh, was it pouring. I can’t remember the last time I’ve driven in rain like that… I know I know, easy to admit coming from a SoCal resident. It’s probably been since my teenage years in NY. I was just hoping that the 2+ deg Celcius would remain steady that night so the rain didn’t turn to ice and snow for an even more eventful drive.

Oslo is the capital of Norway; however it’s not that big and well-known to Americans… let alone visited by them. This particular night it was enjoyed by two Americans, heck … New Yorkers, and to be even more specific Hampton-ers. Yes, it’s a small world. Last week at a customer’s house, the customer and my Dad were in a conversation. She was just starting a new job (based in London) and was visiting Oslo the next several weeks for training. Oslo! My Dad informed her of my situation, and you can figure out the rest. It was date night with Dad’s customer. We have more in common than knowing my Dad and the Hamptons. She graduated with a Mechanical Engineering degree and is very active in the outdoors. Despite being late (Oslo traffic and slow drivers in the weather), being lost (the nearest Parking Hus driving distance from the freeway is not the nearest bird’s eye distance), and being a soggy sheep (it was raining cats & dogs), it was a very pleasant dinner.

Since I was running late, at the car I changed out of my heels and into my brown hiking boots. I figured they would be better footwear to navigate the streets quickly without worrying about puddles nor breaking an ankle on the cobblestones. We met up at Union Station and walked to a restaurant she was familiar with, called the Theater Cafeen . When we checked our coats to the valet coat hanger (person), I was disheartened by my faux pas. An optimist would claim my clothes were business casual (these plans were not on the schedule after my shower that morning). However, with brown boots peeking out of the black slacks, even the optimist would say I was under-dressed. The restaurant was quite beautiful and the live pianist on the balcony gave the antique décor a classy 1920s or 30s feel to it. I discovered later from my Norwegian coworkers that the country’s celebrities go there to be seen wining & dining. The wining and dining dishes of choice that evening were the classics… fish soup and a poached cod plate. They were done wonderfully, especially the fish soup. Nearby to the table was a large picturesque window. It overlooked a dark park square that was only lit from the street and business lights reflecting in the puddles and wet cobblestones. Folks with umbrellas strolled down the sidewalks and leapt across the drenched streets. One could almost imagine Dick Tracey or Sherlock Holmes turning the corner.

The return drive (11pm-12am) was surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday at midnight. There were men and machines working on entire road sections, constricting the useable lanes to a single lane on the opposite road. It was all worth it and I plan to return to Oslo this weekend. Thus far my weekend time has been consumed with adventure. With the Celsius going negative, it’s time for some culture.

03 Oct - Soggy Sheep

From Norway

The cabin was warm, and the morning was gloomy. The wind was blowing (borderline howling) and the rain was intermittent. It was not a day for the Priekenstolen hike… or so I thought.

Revisiting the Frommer’s book, there was a wool factory store not too far away. The factory started in 1937 and makes wool yarn from the local sheep. It then sends the yarn to Poland where they fabricate the hats, socks, and sweaters in Norwegian patterns. Seemed like a splendid way to spend the dreary morning. The factory outlet store was in the middle of nowhere… although there were plenty of grazing sheep. The factory was a large white cement building with old-school pane windows. The outlet store resembled a very long log cabin. In addition to knitted fashions and yarn, they had various trinkets, housewares, and a cafeteria. I spent a considerable amount of time and money in that store, starting and completing the Christmas gifts for the family. The sales person said the factory forever shut its doors the 1st of Oct (2 days ago!). She said they can’t compete with the wools of New Zealand (and one other place). It’s just too expensive. So, the goodies I bought are some of the last Norwegian wool products that there will be for a while (from this supplier). Norway is expensive (you’ll notice my weekend trips have not involved shopping). Being a factory outlet the products are cheaper, however still not reasonable by US standards. They had silly high prices instead of ridiculously high prices (found in any town for the same products). Some of the money will be returned as I requested a VAT form (tax refund at the airport for visitors). After a lunch at their cafeteria, it was back on the road.

The rain was letting up at this point and Priekenstolen was on the road signs. My energy level was in need of some activity so the trailhead was next on the list. Priekenstolen is a large granite face that drops veritically in Lysefjord. I had seen it from the ferry ride the day before and wasn’t very impressed. It has a country-wide reputation (equivalent of the Half-Dome hike for CA) and is most enjoyable on a clear day when you can see the fjord 1,920 ft below the cliff. Today the enjoyment factor was at stake.

The hiking involved birch forest, a rock trail, a wooden boardwalk over a marsh, and for much of it the stream was on the trail. There were a surprising number of hikers going in both directions. Those coming down resembled the soggy sheep I had been passing all morning. My feet felt for those hikers whom were doing it in sneakers. Boots were really needed to avoid getting the feet wet, not to mention spraining an ankle on the wet, slick rocks. The rain stopped completely for most of the hike up and the sun managed to battle its way out for 20 minutes to make for beautiful views. When the sun was being threatened by an approaching front, my pace quickened significantly. I really wanted the view and I knew the top was near. The view and granite was awesome. If you can imagine flooding the Yosemite valley, and being on top of El Captain, that’s the closest experience there would be. Upon summiting the granite platform, the clouds and fog were advancing, so I snapped the pictures quickly. Within 10 minutes there was no visibility beyond a couple hundred feet and shortly thereafter the rain celebrated. It celebrated even with some hail on the entire scramble down. My jacket and pants were thoroughly soaked and now I was that soggy sheep. Fortunately, my under-layers were only damp and reasonable for driving.

The drive North was fjord hopping-ly fabulous. The road meandered by Idsefjorden, Josenfjorden, Ardalsfjorden, Erfjorden and Lovrafjorden, where I spent the night in another lovely cabin. This one is just as good as the first one, if not better and a little warmer than the one last night! The cabins are so lovely and very affordable… it’s definitely the best way to see Norway. They are less than half of the cost of a hotel, have kitchettes, a compact living room and bunks. You do have to bring a sleeping bag and towel, so that’s where it saves the money. It rained all night, which added to the pine cabin ambiance. After a warm shower, cozy clothes and a warm cabin, I was no longer that soggy sheep.

02 Oct – C. N. M. R.

From Norway

It was a holiday week for Norges, so the kids were out of school. The parents seemed to split duty, one take 2-3 days off of work and the other parent takes the rest. It made for a fairly empty office. By the time Friday was here, there was only a handful. The holiday’s origin is from farming. This week was the potato harvesting week, so everyone (needed the kids grubby hands too) would go in the fields and dig potatoes. Although the society has other jobs now, the school holiday has remained the same.

So I’ve read and re-read many sections of Frommer’s Norway travel book. After the past few weekends in the mountains, I was itching to get another fjord into the schedule. If I am to go to a fjord, why not aim for the prettiest of them all? Lysefjord was given that title by many, so that’s the goal. When my local coworker “travel agents” heard of my plans, they had maps and a route all printed and ready to be explained. Per the discussion, the drive involved curvy, narrow mountain roads. Okay then! I swallowed hard knowing that I already thought I had been through curvy, narrow, mountain roads. My anxiety meter started brewing over what a Norge’s description of curvy, narrow, mountains roads really meant. It took me just over an hour to find out.

Exit the familiar 134 hwy on 45 south towards Dalen. The roads did not wait long before defining the curvy, narrow, mountain roads (CNMR) description, so I’m not going to hold back either. Curvy = at least a dozen hairpin (of bobby-pin varietal) turns; Narrow = one car has to stop while the other goes 2 mph squeezing by; Mountain = I’m not kidding you… 12% grade (according to the road signs) and snow on the roadside if not on the road. On the first CNMR, I was halfway through the inside of a steep turn and had to just stop at an awkward angle, so an opposing car could squeak by. That’s right, not even the turns had room for two cars side-by-side. The reason the bobby-pins come into play is that the 180deg turns are wider than the roads they connect. When on the turns, you drive out on a cliff, then in towards the mountain again, just like the curve of a bobby-pin. Click here to see a video of the one of the sections of road I'm describing. The CNMRs are not on mountains, they are clasped to the fjord walls… which are nearly vertical!

Upon ascending the second CNMR, the road opened up for a bit and there were snowy peaks in a distance. It took maybe an hour to get to those snowy peaks. With reasonable caution and confidence, I’ve driven in New England black ice nights, Colorado blizzards, and Northern Cali snow storms. This day, a clear afternoon in Norway’s high-country, I was a spineless, wide-eyed, white-knuckled wimp. The road was just as narrow, however now there was snow on the roadside, if not the road to contend with. The driving strategy for the next hour turned into a max speed of 25 mph. When a car was in sight, I’d adjust my speed such that I’d be in a pull-out area when the car was passing. If there was no pull-out between us, I’d come to a complete stop. It was a relief to see that the other vehicles were doing the same. Click here to see the road. Please remember, what you see in the video is a 2-way road... there are no cars coming the opposite way.

The weekend storm clouds started to threaten the sunlight ahead. I had reached the turn to Lysefjord. It is a road that dead-ends at the ferry terminal for the Lysefjord mouth. I had not done any research for this ferry, so I knew driving down this 20 mile dead-end road that I’d be spending the night (possibly 2) or driving right back up in another hour. There was no way I’d re-drive this road with the nasty weekend weather. My coworker said the road is closed in the winter, so it’s just a matter of days before that happens. After a nutty CNMR down into the fjord valley, the road ended at a ferry port. The good news was there were 4 pick-up trucks and a wagon. I lined up and parked behind the wagon. Right next to me in line were furry white snouts peeking out of the trailer… sheep! I checked the ferry schedule on an empty building and the last ferry until Sunday was due in 5 minutes. What luck!

At the front of the parked vehicles, 5-6 men were standing around in outdoorsy gear. After asking if any of them spoke English, one came over and we started chatting. Upon recommending the town to depart the ferry for lodging and a Saturday hike, I inquired to what he was doing w/ the trucks, gear, and sheep… fearing that slaughter was in the near future. His response was nothing of the sort. Apparently, the people are not the only mammals in Norway that take summer holidays. The sheep do too! At the beginning of summer, the shepards drive their sheep to the high country and drop them off…. each outfitted with a bell around the neck and a tag on the ear. The lambs do not get a bell, because they naturally stay with the adults. The sheep travel around in groups of 3-6 in this predator-free environment for a few months. When the weather begins to get cold in Sept/Oct, the shepard and the sheep dog return to the high-country to round ‘em up and pack ‘em in for a return to the lower grounds. These guys had finished from a day (or a couple days) of hiking around with their dogs and finding their sheep. I don’t believe they find all their sheep each year, but that is part of the acceptable risk. They shepard was extremely proud of his sheep getting the high quality, nutritious food in the high country in the summers. He says it makes the meat world-class.

It was quite funny to pull onto this ferry (backwards) and park amongst the trucks & trailers of sheep & sheep dogs. The only other passenger was a lonely guy from England (I think) wearing shorts. I spent the hour ferry ride enjoying the view of the fjord from the car deck and once in a while going in the cabin to warm up. It was lovely to have the setting sun giving the last light of this almost un-inhabited, imposing fjord. Beautiful. The ferry let me off in Forsand, where it took 3 hotel/cabin signs before I found one that was open. It was a cabin similar to the other cabin experience… view of the fjord, kitchenette, and BYO sleeping bag. It made for a chilly Friday evening, but fantastic for sleeping.