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!