Welcome back to Norway! My last blog left off after Emily and my scenic tour along a Norwegian country road surrounded by green pastures, blue water and noisy sheep. After our walk, we packed our things. (I would like to point out that, for someone with previous packing woes, I packed for 5 days in a standard North Face backpack – winter clothing included.) We headed to the dock to wait for our fjord cruise that was going to take us on a luxurious and relaxing 2-hour ride to our next stop: Gundvagen, a UNESCO world heritage site.
We watched for the fjord cruise and when the clock struck 3:30, we saw it approach our harbor … and keep on going straight. Feeling a little uneasy, Em and I reassured ourselves that the boat was merely overshooting the dock in order to back up like it had done the previous day. Wrong. The boat continued on. We began to panic, screaming and flailing our arms, our shouts echoing throughout the valley. The boat turned the corner of the fjord and disappeared behind a green mountain. Well, crap.
You DO NOT mess with divas in capes. I ran to the nearest sign of life, a small waterfront hotel, asked if the woman spoke English (thankfully, she did) and began to word vomit about our entire debacle. I was sweating and shaking and screaming, basically perpetuating angry American stereotypes. While this may seem like a slight overreaction, please keep in mind that this particular fjord cruise is the ONLY way to get on or off the island in a convenient manner. The roads are questionable and it takes over an hour by cab to get through the fjord. The hotel receptionist called the ship captain whom I immediately cussed out, in good ‘ole American English while Emily called the travel agency and demanded a refund. That poor receptionist.
Twenty minutes later we were off, traveling these questionable roads to Gundvagen via a nice man in a station wagon cab. I would say the taxi ride was scenic, but considering we were in a tunnel for an hour, I’m just not sure it was. Planes, Trains and Automobiles ensued. After $100 in cab fare, we hopped on a bus to the Voss train station and then continued hopping onto a train to Oslo. If bus terminals and train stations were stops on senior bar golf, we’d be winning. On the train we met an old couple who were tracing their ancestry. My heart melted. I love senior citizens with passions.
When we arrived in Bergen, circa 8:30 p.m. (that latest we had been awake all trip), we went straight to our hotel. This hotel was an oasis in the middle of a semester of deserts (hostels)—a real receptionist who spoke perfect English, a heavenly shower, duvets … and room service. Yes, we did. We caved. We had room service delivered – pizza and salads – and began to watch House (in English) on the flat-screen TV. To say that this was a highlight of my time abroad might be perceived as shallow, yet the happiness that comes from greasy pizza and American television cannot be matched, and it was a perfect way to conclude our adventure.
I will also mention here, that my dear friend Emily was essentially ill the entire trip, vomiting here and there the whole time. Eventually I started playing the game “In how many Norwegian cities can Emily vom?” In hindsight, might have been too soon. Sorry Em.
The next day, our last in Nor, was spent frolicking through the streets of Bergen and then on a 7-hour train ride from Bergen back to Oslo. What a ride. Drunk Soccer Fans. Need I say more? Emily and I were involuntarily chosen to sing the anthem of the Bergen Soccer Club in Norwegian and then to make up our own American lyrics. A boom box was blaring for the entire seven hours, and the cabin reeked of beer. If you have ever seen Planes, Trains and Automobiles, you know the kind of situation we were in. We were surrounded by 20 Del Griffiths. God help us. Lastly, we participated in a Norwegian political trivia game. He asked who the best president in U.S. history was. I said FDR. Emily said Reagan. Clearly, our friendship is an anomaly.
That night I got nachos and a sex on the beach at the Hard Rock Café Oslo. An unlikely pair with untraditional flair, just like me and Emily. And just like the trip we will never forget … or be able to top.