Well, I found an "internet cafe" called Snooker Palace. The place is no internet cafe as you think of it. It can best be described as a back room to a dive bar that happends to have computers, or better yet... the dirty attic of a smoker's house. It's really that bad.
Yesterday I made it to Brugge, Belguim via Brussels. It was literally planes, trains, and automobiles (almost in that order). I wasn't good for much last night other than a search for an hotel with availability, a crepe, and glass of vino on the center square.
Today's plans were to check out town/shops of Brugge and do some chocolate tastings. I didn't get to the former, and the latter turned into buying Belguim chocolates 15 minutes after the store was supposed to close (6:15pm)... let alone tasting.
The morning started bright & early at 5am, thanks to a friendly gnat around the headboard. Oh, and the diesel trucks having a parking contest in the square in front of the hotel. Sleep was hopeless so I started in on my book for a couple hours. I was timely for the hotel breakfast of bread, butter & tea and out the door to investigate the results of the diesel trucks... they had turned into stores... a market of a sort. Most of it was disappointing. The majority of the products resembled shirts, socks, pantyhose, skirts, etc. that stores couldn't sell over the past 5 years. The section I was doubling back for was the food. I bought some bread at the most popular bakery table, Belguim hard cheese from the cheese display, and 2 pastries (why decide between 2 when there is no one else to weigh in on the decision? get both!).
A quick trip to the hotel to pack up my backpack and I was on my way for batteries and sunblock. The weather is amazing, but I'll go into that on another post. On the way there, I passed a bike rental shop over-running w/ people. So I went and rented a bike for 4 hours (current time- 9:30am). I wasn't sure if I could see it all by foot anyways, so a bike would at least help me get a layout of the city. I bought batteries and used the SPF 50 tester from a pharmacy shop and was on my way!
Or, so I thought. After a few turns here and there, I realized Brugge is much bigger than originally anticipated and I had no idea how to get out. There is no way the roads here are parallel. I stopped and asked an older fellow who "looked the local Brugge part"... or at least walked w/ confidence. He was excited to hear the English and asked where I'm from in the US. He lived in Chicago for the middle 40 years of his life (he was born in 1939). He knew where I should go, but instead of explaining it, he said to follow him. So I sat on my bike and walked it along next to him while we chatted. We detoured to a fancy rich family's house and then down to the circular moat bordering the Southeast side of the city. At this point I could've rode off and go on my way, but the conversation was interesting so I kept paddling my sandal along the path. At an intersection, he invited me for a drink before my ride... and thought... why not? So across the street we went to a pub on a busy corner and grabbed an outdoor table. The waiter came quickly, and my new friend asked what kind of beer I'd like. Hmmm, for those that know... this is not a question for me 'cause I don't like beer. That being said, I can't tell that to the Belguim guy who has offered to buy me one. I also don't want to leave here never having tried one. So, I asked if there is a fruity/sweet option. There was (Kriek) and I really enjoyed it. Think beer equivalent of a wine cooler. Less alcohol content and all. Half-way through the glasses I broke out the pastries and we finished them. The conversation covered everything from US destinations (he lived in NY & CO), his job as a TWA pilot, to his father's Nazi imprisonment (Belguim army POWs let go after 3 months due to Nazi's confidence), to being back in Brugge where he was born. Interesting guy and it was a good way to start the day... although it was around 11am when we finished.
I rode my bike. I stopped in Damme. I rode my bike more. I stopped in Silius. I rode my bike more and slowed down near Kokke, and followed the salty breeze to the beach where I ate what was left of my picnic lunch (bread & cheese). Then I got completely lost in Kokke (even after asking 3 people) for about 30-40 minutes. Finally I found my way and returned to Brugge. It was an epic ride through the most beautiful flat terrain I've ever biked. Miles of double tree grove lined canals (double tree groves on both sides of the canals) connecting awesome cobblestone, quaint towns. The beach was as wide or wider than the LA beaches... same air & water temps too. I purchased some trinkets in the towns. My challenge tomorrow will be getting them all to fit in my 1 backpack with my clothes. Ryanair, I might be layering on the clothes tomorrow. They are super strict on their carry-on qualifications, hence discount airline.
All sweated out, I returned the bike at 5:30... a whopping 8 hours after I rented it for 4. The guy thanked me and took the bike. I told him I need to pay him more money. He shook his head. I insisted I need to pay him for another 4 hours and he stood firm. Okay, then... I'll go buy myself another beer! Cheers!
All I could think about was ice water, cold shower, ice cream, and (gulp) cold fruity beer. So that's what I did... in that order. Dinner (crazy goat cheese medallion salad) happened after all of that.
My legs are empty, my wallet is tired... I think it's about time to check in and finish the day how I started. Drinking a fruity book. Goodnight!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Public Pat-Down
Well, I’ve gone Norge, again.
Like last time, this is a 3 ½ week venture. Unlike last time, there is a low probability of it turning into 10 weeks, due to a particular July 4th holiday weekend I’d like to participate in, and the July shut-down. The latter being a local factory closure for 2 (or is it 3?) weeks. Regardless, Norges usually tack on a week here or there such that there is zero work done for the entire month of July. How’s THAT for a holiday… instead of taking the July 4th holiday, let’s just start taking the July holiday.
I am no European traveler. For any moderately long trip, I don’t wear the boots, I skip the tight jeans (let alone skirts), don’t over accessorize myself with gold/platinum/silver/copper, and I don’t overstate black. These habits are not intended to stand apart from these Euro travelers, but instead were shaped by a separate set of principles: the US regulations (namely the TSA security processes), comfort, and the general acceptance of sweatpants. As usual, I was no challenge for the US TSA, my bags were carried through and I was clean as a plastic whistle going through the detector. The 3 rings, small post earrings, a leather-banded watch, and the metal chip in my passport were no threat to the plane. In Munich, it was a different story. Not only did the knitting needles in my bag aggravate the detector, the human buzzer went off too. I took 1 small step to the side (between the walk-through metal detectors), and awaited the female inspector to finish inspecting another traveler 2 feet from me. Within a minute she was onto me. She patted my arms, pits, my chest, my back, sides, lifted my shirt to run her hand around the elastic hip band of my pants, and then went South. No temporary walls, no separator glass, no decency, no nothing. It was just a good ‘ole public pat-down. Fortunately, she didn’t find any lumps so I’m good for another year.
The flights were easy and fine. I was able to do my normal transition between knitting, magazining, and catching up on movies that were neglected a couple months ago. Somehow my vegetarian meal preference never gets translated to the airline; however there is always a fish or decent veggie option available on the menu. I eat all of the food put in front of me in the biz class. At the layovers, I dart for the lounges and continue eating. The Munich lounge is one of the best (in my amateur eyes), namely because it employs the German culture whole-heartedly. There are classy black picnic benches, each adorned with salty, doughy pretzels hanging on the pretzel rack centerpieces. The atrium above has a beer label, properly framed with a mural of the black forest (from what I gather). More than half the occupants are drinking beer, the rest are eating wieners, and you can tell a newbie from the worn business traveler. Upon arriving on the landing, the newbie’s eyes do a slow scan of the room, the smile climbs across the lips, and suddenly the newbies find a hop in their step that leads them straight to the foamy amber beverages and Haribo gummies.
Due to a late-night arrival and the lovely airport hotel, I spent the night in the airport hotel.
At 10:10 pm the sun was just setting on the horizon.
At 11:15 pm (bedtime) the residual light in the sky was still coming through the curtains.
At 04:55 am I awoke wide-eyed in a fully-lit room (yes, through the curtains) and scrambled to find my watch in trepidation that I missed my 6am alarm. Nope. False alarm. Time to start my first day.
Like last time, this is a 3 ½ week venture. Unlike last time, there is a low probability of it turning into 10 weeks, due to a particular July 4th holiday weekend I’d like to participate in, and the July shut-down. The latter being a local factory closure for 2 (or is it 3?) weeks. Regardless, Norges usually tack on a week here or there such that there is zero work done for the entire month of July. How’s THAT for a holiday… instead of taking the July 4th holiday, let’s just start taking the July holiday.
I am no European traveler. For any moderately long trip, I don’t wear the boots, I skip the tight jeans (let alone skirts), don’t over accessorize myself with gold/platinum/silver/copper, and I don’t overstate black. These habits are not intended to stand apart from these Euro travelers, but instead were shaped by a separate set of principles: the US regulations (namely the TSA security processes), comfort, and the general acceptance of sweatpants. As usual, I was no challenge for the US TSA, my bags were carried through and I was clean as a plastic whistle going through the detector. The 3 rings, small post earrings, a leather-banded watch, and the metal chip in my passport were no threat to the plane. In Munich, it was a different story. Not only did the knitting needles in my bag aggravate the detector, the human buzzer went off too. I took 1 small step to the side (between the walk-through metal detectors), and awaited the female inspector to finish inspecting another traveler 2 feet from me. Within a minute she was onto me. She patted my arms, pits, my chest, my back, sides, lifted my shirt to run her hand around the elastic hip band of my pants, and then went South. No temporary walls, no separator glass, no decency, no nothing. It was just a good ‘ole public pat-down. Fortunately, she didn’t find any lumps so I’m good for another year.
The flights were easy and fine. I was able to do my normal transition between knitting, magazining, and catching up on movies that were neglected a couple months ago. Somehow my vegetarian meal preference never gets translated to the airline; however there is always a fish or decent veggie option available on the menu. I eat all of the food put in front of me in the biz class. At the layovers, I dart for the lounges and continue eating. The Munich lounge is one of the best (in my amateur eyes), namely because it employs the German culture whole-heartedly. There are classy black picnic benches, each adorned with salty, doughy pretzels hanging on the pretzel rack centerpieces. The atrium above has a beer label, properly framed with a mural of the black forest (from what I gather). More than half the occupants are drinking beer, the rest are eating wieners, and you can tell a newbie from the worn business traveler. Upon arriving on the landing, the newbie’s eyes do a slow scan of the room, the smile climbs across the lips, and suddenly the newbies find a hop in their step that leads them straight to the foamy amber beverages and Haribo gummies.
Due to a late-night arrival and the lovely airport hotel, I spent the night in the airport hotel.
At 10:10 pm the sun was just setting on the horizon.
At 11:15 pm (bedtime) the residual light in the sky was still coming through the curtains.
At 04:55 am I awoke wide-eyed in a fully-lit room (yes, through the curtains) and scrambled to find my watch in trepidation that I missed my 6am alarm. Nope. False alarm. Time to start my first day.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, November 20, 2009
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!
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!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
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!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
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!
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
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!
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