An entry in The TFS Travel Journal
Actually made it out of bed and down to the breakfast buffet before they close at 10. Interesting offerings: some of the usual meats, sterno-preserved eggs, rice w/chopped peppers, some of the blood sausage we first tried in Scotland (which Milton likes and Wendy can’t even look at), along with batter and a waffle maker that had a sign saying “only for children”!, and cereal (though only puffed rice and corn flakes) with milk and a carton of buttermilk that smelled and looked like something that belonged in a petri dish, but these people really drink it (or eat it, more appropriately).
We then set off for the area north of the city that had been suggested to me for nice hikes by a woman in the DNT (Den Norske Tourist) office. I can safely, emphatically, and vitriolically say that I have never had a more frustrating experience in my driving life. Streets here change names every three blocks, nothing goes in a straight line, and since cars are expected to stop for pedestrians in crosswalks, people walk out in front of you just often enough to keep one from concentrating on figuring out where the hell one actually is. We finally bought another map, just of Oslo, and finally found the road we were looking for, and it was fucking under construction! But we persevered, and found our way.
We had a nice 5km round trip walk alongside a rushing stream to a very pretty lake, all set in a familiar pine forest, with a symphony of fresh and intoxicating outdoor forest scents. While relaxing among some wild flowers on the lakeside, a gaggle (if that means 6 or 7) of ducks came ashore and walked up and around us. Unfortunately, we had nothing to feed them and they must have realized that, as they pecked around in the grass and then waddled away. We did later see a few people picking blueberries off the side of the trail with a special hand tool that allowed them to scoop the berries from the bushes; hmm, have to look into that for upstate. Did taste some, and they were just like upstate’s version. We then had a bit of trouble finding our car at the base of the trail, since we had taken a slightly different trail down, but all was ok. Drove effortlessly to the Holmenkollen ski jump in the hill outside of town (Oslo is a crescent around the end of the 100km Oslofjord, set in the base of three large hills). The drive afforded a look at a nice residential area of all wood pannelled homes, each painted in browns, dark reds, etc. Wendy napped in the car while Milton went through the ski museum — actually pretty interesting, with very old skis and bindings, and some of the actual medal winning equipment from Winter Olympics over the last 100 years or so. (Where’s JB when you need him?) Surpirsingly enough, they had a hallway dedicated to snowboarding, with many funky boards on display and X-game videos playing! Then up to the top of the jump. Quite an impressive panoramic view of the fjord, city and surrounding hills, as well as the always-good-for-a-laugh look down the jump itself.
Woke up Wendy, and drove a few hundred feet to the Holmenkollen Restaurant which, like the jump, has been there for over 100 years (though the jump has been rebuilt numerous times, while the restaurant looks pretty unchanged). Had a phenominal meal, while gazing down at the aforementioned panoramic view. Wendy started with the marinated salmon in cranberry sauce, but they mistakenly brought salmon tartar which was so fresh and was served with delicious, non-salty arctic roe, so it was probably better than the first choice. Milton started with the reindeer, which was quite tasty (though it did taste (quite) a bit like corned beef) and served wrapped in a very thin tortilla with mild goat cheese. The entrees were grilled arctic trout in mango sauce (fabulous, though almost like a mild salmon) and lamb chops au gratin w/jarlsberg.
Drove back toward the hotel with plenty of time to catch the two-hour 17:45 fjord cruise. HA! Actually got to within a few blocks of the target more than once before veering off in some unidentifiable direction. The eagle finally landed and we walked over to pier 3 and boarded the cruise. Nice to have someone else do the work for a few hours. We meandered among the islands in the fjord off Oslo, listening to the guide in German, Norweigen, and barely intelligible english. There was another girl serving refreshments on board who spoke much better english, but didn’t speak German, so couldn’t do the guiding. She had a hyperactive, why-say-five-words-when-twenty-will-do way of speaking that probably wouldn’t have gone over so well, though. The islands were pretty and filled with cozy looking summer houses, nothing too ostentatious, but also not a lot different from the Vineyard, the Cape, etc.
We strolled along the waterfront in front of the Aker Brygge complex (and had our night made when an older couple who had been on the cruise approached us and asked if we were on our honeymoon!) then ducked in and enjoyed a freshly-made belgian waffle with yummy strawberry jam. We then stopped and listened again to the Polish vibraphonist and guitarist (whose tape we enjoyed in the car all day!) as they did “Imagine” and “Hit the Road, Jack” and spoke with them briefly. They’ve been doing this a while, and said Switzerland was the best money-wise since it was the strongest currency. We urged them to come to N.Y., but they’ll have to check into the regulations.
Returned home in the comfort of our growing neighborhood familiarity, and packed for tomorrow’s adventure-filled drive to Bergen.