Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Norway Day 8 - Kinn
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 19, 2030, 5:10 pm
The Hjornevikbua Restaurant, Florø
What a long day. The alarm went off at 5:30 and I was up slowly. I think I was too early, as I had to wait until the restaurant opened for breakfast. I just got a bowl of cereal and bolted it down, not at all sure about timing. Of course I was silly early at the ferry.
I asked a passerby about the ferries, and she pointed out the sign on the back of each, much like the route sign on a bus. Easy enough. OK to board early? Yes? No? Anyone? Jeez, how unsure can I get?
I walked into the passenger cabin and sat down. Ten minutes later another guy got on. And then we were off. This boat could probably seat almost a hundred but there were just the two of us.
I took a few pictures of the islands sliding by, but the windows were pretty scummy from the sea spray.
The guys who drive these things are pretty talented. When we pulled away from the dock, we turned in a space not much bigger than the boat itself, then backed into a berth to load something on the back.
We arrived at Kinn and there was the same deft handling of the ferry. We seemed to roar up at full speed, and at the last minute we slowed to a standstill inches from the pier.
The ferry worker lived a ramp across to the pier, and I asked for a pickup in the afternoon. Then I set off down the road. The only car had delivered a child to the ferry, probably heading to school at Rognaldsvag. It had left ahead of me to park in front of a house. That was all the traffic I had to worry about.
The road took me past several houses and small farms. Sheep lounged here and there.
There was a large farm where the road bent westward around the north side of the island. Across the road was a grove of trees, through which a stone wall wove. I suddenly began to see stone walls everywhere.
The lane continued between well fenced fields, sheep grazing between the road and the shoreline.
I saw the peak of the roof of the church first. Then around the bend, the gatehouse and that marvelous split mountain, Kinnaklova.
Nothing quite prepares you for the first dramatic glimpse of that mountain. It doesn't look quite real.
I walked up to the first building, a cottage like place. Past that, the gatehouse. It's a dramatic structure in its own right.
Iron gateposts are on each side of the arch, but there is no gate to open. I later found the gates beside the stone arch, perhaps awaiting repair.
Through the gate and mere steps was the front door of the church. The front porch looks quite modern, probably a recent addition to accommodate modern locks and an alarm system.
The rest looked like whitewashed plaster over stone. The church seemed larger than I imagined, dominating the setting. The rest of the scene seemed smaller.
I walked through the surrounding grave yard, looking at the names on the markers. Some headstones were too badly weathered and lichen encrusted to make out.
I walked around the church and found a collection of headstones, probably awaiting restoration work. There are likely many more graves than the ones that are marked.
The ramp up to the stage built for the annual Kinnaspelet pageant was gated and a sign asked that I go around the outside of the yard. At the corner behind the cottage, a farm fence met the stone wall of the church yard with a small gate.
I walked through and along the stone wall, and climbed on the stage. It's huge, very wide and with multiple levels. At the back, several levels looked like they could accommodate tiers of seating.
AT the far edge of this structure, the mountain rose sharply. This steep meadow had several natural shelves and benches, mostly tufts of vegetation, where the majority of an audience would sit.
I climbed above this to a juniper carpeted outcrop, and took a few pictures. The I descended back to the stage. The path from the gate toward Kinnaklova was obvious from above.
I followed the path along the base of the cliff that was the face of Kinnafjellet, the central mountain of Kinn. It was damp in spots, a little marshy.
About half a kilometre on, there was a series of stone walls, like an abandoned settlement. More likely they were corrals for the sheep. A little farther on, another stone wall ran from cliff face to sea, and in it was another small gate.
Not long after that, I reached the base of a boulder strewn slope, covered with lush vegetation and dotted with sheep. The slope isn't visible from the church, being hidden behind Kinnafjellet, but it's obvious there is a gap between the two mountains.
I climbed this to the col, the sheep chasing each other up slope ahead of me. From there, they worked their way up slope against Kinnafjellet. It looked awfully steep, but they had no problem with it.
I peeked over the top to discover a trail leading down. But I wanted to climb that cleft. So I descended the way I came, and worked my way over to the bottom of that slope.
May 19, 2010, 6:40 pm
The Quality Hotel lounge, Florø
This town just shuts down in the evening. Neither hotel restaurant is open, so I ended up back at the Hjornevikbua restaurant, where I went last night. Except looking over at the restaurant in this place, it looks to be open now.
The climb up the cleft was no different than any other scramble, technically. As usual, I didn't see the trail until I was halfway up. It was a nice climb.
At the top, I looked down at a dead end. It seemed that the base of the rubble slope ended at the water and now way past the vertical walls of the cleft itself.
The col in the cleft seemed no more than fifteen metres wide, and three boulders the size of a Smart car dominate. They are quite visible from the church.
I didn't sit too long. The wind was picking up and it had a definite chill. It was weird up there because each side was a sheer vertical wall. Usually there is some upward sloping at the sides of a col, but this was straight across, and straight up.
I started back down. It's a steep slope and I found my Keen hikers weren't quite up to the terrain, missing the side support that my old beat up Garmont boots have. Except for those few moments, they've been a great comfortable shoe.
I took it slow and careful, and got down without a problem. I would have liked to go further around the mountain to the north, but it was pure muskeg from mountain base to the water. A real swamp.
I went back to the first col, and climbed again. The sheep were still well up the slope against Kinnefjellet. I walked their trail over the top and down the other side.
Halfway down, a stone wall cut across the entire slope. It must have taken ages to build. A gap in the middle had no gate.
The path lead down the left side of the south face of the slope. Across the way on the back side of Kinnaklova, an enormous cave came into view.
I would guess the cave was thirty metres wide, close to half that high at the mouth. It was under the left side of a large arching overhang, not even taking up half the space under the arch.
I walked down to a fence and discovered a small cave there, not nearly as dramatic.
The big cave was spooky. None of the rock fall laying around was new, so the whole structure was probably stable. I made my way toward it.
I had climbed to a point directly under the midpoint of the overhang, and probably still had thirty metres to go before I would be at the cave proper. I just didn't feel comfortable going any farther.
I took several pictures, then made my way around to the path back to the top of the col. And then retraced my steps back to the church.
My climbing had taken the entire morning and I reached the church at noon. There was a bench against the wall, sun washed and sort of out of the wind. I lay down on it, and napped for about half an hour.
I woke just before 12:30 and heard footsteps on the gravel path. The lady who is the church caretaker said hello before stepping inside and closing the door.
I took a few more pictures in the noon light, and then slowly walked down the road. I still had three hours to wait for the ferry, so I was in no hurry.
I noticed all kinds of stone wall on the walk back. The wind was picking up even more, and it was cold even with the sun.
Across the way, the mountain behind Rognaldsvag had acquired a gob of foggy cloud on top, and the wind was pushing it around.
At the pier, I kept walking, determined to follow the road to the other end.
There was a long straight channel at the end, pointing south east, and at the far end a light house marked where it met the sea. I checked later and it's the same lighthouse I could see from near the cave. So I almost went all the way around the whole island.
I had over an hour still to wait for the ferry. Actualy I'd filled the day pretty well. I was expecting to have at least two hours to wait given that the island was so small.
The wind was getting really cold now. Thick cloud blew off the mountain behind Ronaldsvag, only to dissipate almost immediately.
On the pier, I found a somewhat protected corner in the concrete wall. The sun had warmed the concrete so it wasn't too bad. But that wind sucked the heat from my body.
Just before 3:00, a water taxi arrived and two people began unloading boxes and packages. A local backed a tractor down the pier with a small trailer attached and with the help of the taxi pilot, they unloaded a yellow white casket. Then the two taxi passengers followed the tractor down the road toward the church, while the taxi sped off. It was a sad little procession.
May 19, 2030, 5:10 pm
The Hjornevikbua Restaurant, Florø
What a long day. The alarm went off at 5:30 and I was up slowly. I think I was too early, as I had to wait until the restaurant opened for breakfast. I just got a bowl of cereal and bolted it down, not at all sure about timing. Of course I was silly early at the ferry.
I asked a passerby about the ferries, and she pointed out the sign on the back of each, much like the route sign on a bus. Easy enough. OK to board early? Yes? No? Anyone? Jeez, how unsure can I get?
I walked into the passenger cabin and sat down. Ten minutes later another guy got on. And then we were off. This boat could probably seat almost a hundred but there were just the two of us.
I took a few pictures of the islands sliding by, but the windows were pretty scummy from the sea spray.
The guys who drive these things are pretty talented. When we pulled away from the dock, we turned in a space not much bigger than the boat itself, then backed into a berth to load something on the back.
We arrived at Kinn and there was the same deft handling of the ferry. We seemed to roar up at full speed, and at the last minute we slowed to a standstill inches from the pier.
The ferry worker lived a ramp across to the pier, and I asked for a pickup in the afternoon. Then I set off down the road. The only car had delivered a child to the ferry, probably heading to school at Rognaldsvag. It had left ahead of me to park in front of a house. That was all the traffic I had to worry about.
The road took me past several houses and small farms. Sheep lounged here and there.
There was a large farm where the road bent westward around the north side of the island. Across the road was a grove of trees, through which a stone wall wove. I suddenly began to see stone walls everywhere.
The lane continued between well fenced fields, sheep grazing between the road and the shoreline.
I saw the peak of the roof of the church first. Then around the bend, the gatehouse and that marvelous split mountain, Kinnaklova.
Nothing quite prepares you for the first dramatic glimpse of that mountain. It doesn't look quite real.
I walked up to the first building, a cottage like place. Past that, the gatehouse. It's a dramatic structure in its own right.
Iron gateposts are on each side of the arch, but there is no gate to open. I later found the gates beside the stone arch, perhaps awaiting repair.
Through the gate and mere steps was the front door of the church. The front porch looks quite modern, probably a recent addition to accommodate modern locks and an alarm system.
The rest looked like whitewashed plaster over stone. The church seemed larger than I imagined, dominating the setting. The rest of the scene seemed smaller.
I walked through the surrounding grave yard, looking at the names on the markers. Some headstones were too badly weathered and lichen encrusted to make out.
I walked around the church and found a collection of headstones, probably awaiting restoration work. There are likely many more graves than the ones that are marked.
The ramp up to the stage built for the annual Kinnaspelet pageant was gated and a sign asked that I go around the outside of the yard. At the corner behind the cottage, a farm fence met the stone wall of the church yard with a small gate.
I walked through and along the stone wall, and climbed on the stage. It's huge, very wide and with multiple levels. At the back, several levels looked like they could accommodate tiers of seating.
AT the far edge of this structure, the mountain rose sharply. This steep meadow had several natural shelves and benches, mostly tufts of vegetation, where the majority of an audience would sit.
I climbed above this to a juniper carpeted outcrop, and took a few pictures. The I descended back to the stage. The path from the gate toward Kinnaklova was obvious from above.
I followed the path along the base of the cliff that was the face of Kinnafjellet, the central mountain of Kinn. It was damp in spots, a little marshy.
About half a kilometre on, there was a series of stone walls, like an abandoned settlement. More likely they were corrals for the sheep. A little farther on, another stone wall ran from cliff face to sea, and in it was another small gate.
Not long after that, I reached the base of a boulder strewn slope, covered with lush vegetation and dotted with sheep. The slope isn't visible from the church, being hidden behind Kinnafjellet, but it's obvious there is a gap between the two mountains.
I climbed this to the col, the sheep chasing each other up slope ahead of me. From there, they worked their way up slope against Kinnafjellet. It looked awfully steep, but they had no problem with it.
I peeked over the top to discover a trail leading down. But I wanted to climb that cleft. So I descended the way I came, and worked my way over to the bottom of that slope.
May 19, 2010, 6:40 pm
The Quality Hotel lounge, Florø
This town just shuts down in the evening. Neither hotel restaurant is open, so I ended up back at the Hjornevikbua restaurant, where I went last night. Except looking over at the restaurant in this place, it looks to be open now.
The climb up the cleft was no different than any other scramble, technically. As usual, I didn't see the trail until I was halfway up. It was a nice climb.
At the top, I looked down at a dead end. It seemed that the base of the rubble slope ended at the water and now way past the vertical walls of the cleft itself.
The col in the cleft seemed no more than fifteen metres wide, and three boulders the size of a Smart car dominate. They are quite visible from the church.
I didn't sit too long. The wind was picking up and it had a definite chill. It was weird up there because each side was a sheer vertical wall. Usually there is some upward sloping at the sides of a col, but this was straight across, and straight up.
I started back down. It's a steep slope and I found my Keen hikers weren't quite up to the terrain, missing the side support that my old beat up Garmont boots have. Except for those few moments, they've been a great comfortable shoe.
I took it slow and careful, and got down without a problem. I would have liked to go further around the mountain to the north, but it was pure muskeg from mountain base to the water. A real swamp.
I went back to the first col, and climbed again. The sheep were still well up the slope against Kinnefjellet. I walked their trail over the top and down the other side.
Halfway down, a stone wall cut across the entire slope. It must have taken ages to build. A gap in the middle had no gate.
The path lead down the left side of the south face of the slope. Across the way on the back side of Kinnaklova, an enormous cave came into view.
I would guess the cave was thirty metres wide, close to half that high at the mouth. It was under the left side of a large arching overhang, not even taking up half the space under the arch.
I walked down to a fence and discovered a small cave there, not nearly as dramatic.
The big cave was spooky. None of the rock fall laying around was new, so the whole structure was probably stable. I made my way toward it.
I had climbed to a point directly under the midpoint of the overhang, and probably still had thirty metres to go before I would be at the cave proper. I just didn't feel comfortable going any farther.
I took several pictures, then made my way around to the path back to the top of the col. And then retraced my steps back to the church.
My climbing had taken the entire morning and I reached the church at noon. There was a bench against the wall, sun washed and sort of out of the wind. I lay down on it, and napped for about half an hour.
I woke just before 12:30 and heard footsteps on the gravel path. The lady who is the church caretaker said hello before stepping inside and closing the door.
I took a few more pictures in the noon light, and then slowly walked down the road. I still had three hours to wait for the ferry, so I was in no hurry.
I noticed all kinds of stone wall on the walk back. The wind was picking up even more, and it was cold even with the sun.
Across the way, the mountain behind Rognaldsvag had acquired a gob of foggy cloud on top, and the wind was pushing it around.
At the pier, I kept walking, determined to follow the road to the other end.
There was a long straight channel at the end, pointing south east, and at the far end a light house marked where it met the sea. I checked later and it's the same lighthouse I could see from near the cave. So I almost went all the way around the whole island.
I had over an hour still to wait for the ferry. Actualy I'd filled the day pretty well. I was expecting to have at least two hours to wait given that the island was so small.
The wind was getting really cold now. Thick cloud blew off the mountain behind Ronaldsvag, only to dissipate almost immediately.
On the pier, I found a somewhat protected corner in the concrete wall. The sun had warmed the concrete so it wasn't too bad. But that wind sucked the heat from my body.
Just before 3:00, a water taxi arrived and two people began unloading boxes and packages. A local backed a tractor down the pier with a small trailer attached and with the help of the taxi pilot, they unloaded a yellow white casket. Then the two taxi passengers followed the tractor down the road toward the church, while the taxi sped off. It was a sad little procession.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Norway Day 7 - Exploring Florø
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 18, 2010, 8:10 am
The restaurant in the Florø Comfort Inn
Another great breakfast. I hope I'm walking enough to work it off.
It occurs to me I'm sort of mis-labeling my posts. Yesterday was Constitution Day, but I wrote about the 150th anniversary of Florø. Today I'm writing about Constitution Day, but it's the day after.
I went out and watched the Children's Parade, and took lots of pictures. It appears that all the schools got into the act as there were banners for each school, each grade, and even each class. It took almost an hour for them to pass, and they had a marching band leading, and another at the end.
Afterwards, people mostly followed in the wake of the parade, so I went along with the crowd. Down Markegata, down a couple of blocks, then up the hill toward the church. By the time I got that far, people were disbursing in all directions and the crowd was thinning out.
Eventually everyone all but disappeared. I would have thought they might end up at a fairground or something. But the town just quieted down and people disappeared.
I went around again, past the tourist information centre to check the map in the window. And then embarked on a walk along the road that loops around the west end of the mountain in the middle of town.
It was a quiet walk. I met a few people, dressed in the traditional clothing, going the other way.
It's a beautiful town. The rain has stopped just before the Children's Parade, and I had my light jacket on. It was starting to warm up as the cloud dissipated.
Past the sports stadium, the road was high enough that I could see out to the far islands to the west. With the slop of the land, most homes have a fine view.
I got to the road from the airport and retraced the path back to the hotel.
By now it was a little after noon, and I started searching for someplace for lunch. A pub near the hotel served only drinks. I went farther down and found a lunch counter that servers burgers and fries and stuff.
There were a couple of other places, but they were more like actual restaurants and I thought I'd save going to those for dinner. I'm trying to go someplace different for every meal, but it's a challenge in a small town.
After lunch, with the centre of town feeling nearly deserted, I went exploring some more. By the other hotel, I found a public building, basically public washrooms and a laundromat. It had a large map on the wall outside and I remembered the Maritime Museum. I went searching for it.
About half way back toward the airport is a hiking trail that leads past the museum. I found it, and followed it as it descended into bush, not looking too well used, but easy to follow.
On the right was a narrow swampy gully, and across the back yards of houses, eerily quiet. On the left was a rock wall, and above on top of it were more back yards.
Eventually it came to a soggy, abandoned looking playground with a path cutting across from one side to the other. A stairway climbed the cliff to the left. I followed the path to the right, between two houses and onto the street.
At the end of this residential loop was a sign pointing down a narrow lane that ended in parking lot, and beyond, a couple of large buildings on the water's edge.
There was no one around, and a paper on the door I suspect said it was closed for the holiday. Peeking through a window, I saw all kinds of small boats and a stuffed seagull standing on some fishing nets.
Past the museum, a path wound along the edge of the water and over the rock. The setting is quite lovely. The museum is on the water, with a pier. SEveral outcrops and islands dot the water. All are very green and lush after all the rain.
I followed the path to a short bridge to an island. The path wound over the rock at the west end of the island, but there was a fence across, and goats grazed beyond. A short path led to the gate, with signage probably saying Keep Out.
On the other side, a longer and larger bridge lead to another island. This bridge was quite high, and I discovered that it was originally a draw bridge. The railing was designed to fold inward where two massive hinges in the deck showed the edge of the moving section. A frame held up cables from the far end of the raise-able section. Quite ingenious, and unused. The railings were nailed into place with heavy spikes.
Tomorrow would be the time to explore further. I retraced my steps back to the residential loop and then to the main road, rather than follow the path again.
Pm tje ,aom rpad. [ep[;e were beginning to appear again, in an obvious hurry. When I passed the graveyard is when that cannon went off again, twice, at 4:00. End of the workday?
AT the lake by the road, people stood in the middle and lined the wall on the side. The road looped into an apartment complex and people were everywhere but keeping this loop open. I could hear a band.
Soon a forest of flags appeared from around the corner This was the grownups parade, although there were kids everywhere. At least three marching bands, several groups with banners, young peoples groups too, motocross and one group wearing those red overalls I've seen everywhere.
After the parade, I followed the crowd again. Same gradual disbursement and eventually the streets were deserted.
I went back to the hotel and napped for a few minutes, after finding a pub behind the hotel. Nearly empty, and the only thing on tap was Hansa, but it was growing on me.
After the nap, I needed dinner. I discovered that all the restaurants closed early or all day, for the holiday. The only places open other than one pub and restaurant packed to the rafters was the fast food place I'd gone to for lunch, and the meat and chips place.
So I repeated the visit to the faux Italian. The place was almost deserted and the waiter and I repeated our meat and chips discussion. This time I got it without the Hollandaise-like sauce. It was a pretty good steak.
After that I walked to the other hotel and found a Ringnes in their lounge. I chased that with a Dalwhinnie and then went back to my hotel to do some laundry and to bed.
There was no cannon this morning, so it must have been only for the holiday.
I think I missed something yesterday. There must have been some place where people were gathering. The residential areas were very quiet but so was the downtown. People must have congregated somewhere.
May 18, 2010, 8:50 pm
The Hjornevikbua pub
I slept in a little this morning, there was no cannon to wake me up. I got up, and after breakfast I found the tourist information office, and got a map of the town.
A chat with the lady there got me a lot of information. Like, the time between the two parades yesterday, everyone was at some school with lots of activities. And after the second parade, there was a rowing competition on one of the lakes. I missed it all.
She called the lady who looks after the church at Kinn to see if I could get an ovff season tour. No dice; there's a funeral Thursday, and they are preparing for it tomorrow, so I can't get inside. But I am able to wander around the island on my own. So I have to be up for the ferry early tomorrow.
Then I decided to try the museum again. I walked down and found it open, and deserted except for staff. The lady who took my admission couldn't get the till to work so had to get change form the lunch counter.
The first part I went through showed some household furniture and ship models. Of course I had forgotten to charge the battery in my camera so at this point, it died.
Still, I wandered through an early 20th century household and checked out several styles of fishing boats. Lots of information about the early years of Florø:, but unfortunately it was all in Norwegian.
I went back to the hotel, plugged in the battery charger and went in search of lunch. Being a regular business day, places were open and not packed. I had a quick bite and went back to get my camera.
I headed out for the mountain east of town. The maps showed a hiking trail to the top so I set out in search of it.
I wend back to the museum and took the series of bridges and trails from there. A sound of sloshing in the water at one point startled me. I discovered a deer wading in the water by an old boat house.
No, sorry, after being at the museum, I followed that trail back to the hotel.
For the hike, I took the south side road. The school up that way had just got out, so lots of kids around. I came out past the south side, looking for a street that would take to the start of the trail to the mountain.
I walked past a swampy patch that the map showed as the start of the trail. It didn't look like there was a path anywhere there.
I walked up to another street that the map showed a path branching off and found it. But is just crossed a forested area to another crescent/cul-de-dac. The map showed that this might be reasonable so I walked along the street, looking for where the path continued. No sign.
A driveway branched up the slope, maybe not being a driveway but a path, and I ended up in what looked like someone's back yard. But there was a faint path from there, so I followed it and was soon in the forest.
I followed the path to the next cul-de-sac, and got lost for awhile. I found another path, which took me to another cul-de-sac. At least this one had an obvious marked path leading farther on.
This looked like the real path now. And there was a fair amount of climbing over rock and roots. Lots of we swampy paths, too. But then I was at another cul-de-sac. My map appeared to be seriously inaccurate.
A boy on a bicycle asked if I was lost. He confirmed the things I was seeing on the map, that the path continued form beside a scholl down the street. I got down to the school but could see no path. A guy drove up and after telling him what I was about, pointed out where the path started. From there it was straight forward. More rock and roots, and swampy parts, until I finally reacked the summit, by a telecommunications tower.
I took pictures. All of Florø was visible, and the surrounding island. There was a telescope on the lookout that I played with. Farther down was a prominence that I walked to, near the path as it came up out of the forest. Someone had build a cairn with several metal name plates. I took pictures of all sides, and some day will translate them.
I started back down, meeting a few groups going up. At the school, I took the street to the north and down to the main highway. Following that took me back to the hotel.
After a short nap (I seem to need them regularly), I went out looking for dinner. I decided to try the place that was so packed last night. Tonight is was quiet and I had what was probably the best meal so far on this trip. Afterward, I wend downstairs to the pub for a pint, which is where I now sit.
After the first pint, I went to check out where to to for the ferry. Then back to the hotel to get my journal and back here for a pint to write by.
I gotta head back to the hotel soon. I have and early day tomorrow.
May 18, 2010, 8:10 am
The restaurant in the Florø Comfort Inn
Another great breakfast. I hope I'm walking enough to work it off.
It occurs to me I'm sort of mis-labeling my posts. Yesterday was Constitution Day, but I wrote about the 150th anniversary of Florø. Today I'm writing about Constitution Day, but it's the day after.
I went out and watched the Children's Parade, and took lots of pictures. It appears that all the schools got into the act as there were banners for each school, each grade, and even each class. It took almost an hour for them to pass, and they had a marching band leading, and another at the end.
Afterwards, people mostly followed in the wake of the parade, so I went along with the crowd. Down Markegata, down a couple of blocks, then up the hill toward the church. By the time I got that far, people were disbursing in all directions and the crowd was thinning out.
Eventually everyone all but disappeared. I would have thought they might end up at a fairground or something. But the town just quieted down and people disappeared.
I went around again, past the tourist information centre to check the map in the window. And then embarked on a walk along the road that loops around the west end of the mountain in the middle of town.
It was a quiet walk. I met a few people, dressed in the traditional clothing, going the other way.
It's a beautiful town. The rain has stopped just before the Children's Parade, and I had my light jacket on. It was starting to warm up as the cloud dissipated.
Past the sports stadium, the road was high enough that I could see out to the far islands to the west. With the slop of the land, most homes have a fine view.
I got to the road from the airport and retraced the path back to the hotel.
By now it was a little after noon, and I started searching for someplace for lunch. A pub near the hotel served only drinks. I went farther down and found a lunch counter that servers burgers and fries and stuff.
There were a couple of other places, but they were more like actual restaurants and I thought I'd save going to those for dinner. I'm trying to go someplace different for every meal, but it's a challenge in a small town.
After lunch, with the centre of town feeling nearly deserted, I went exploring some more. By the other hotel, I found a public building, basically public washrooms and a laundromat. It had a large map on the wall outside and I remembered the Maritime Museum. I went searching for it.
About half way back toward the airport is a hiking trail that leads past the museum. I found it, and followed it as it descended into bush, not looking too well used, but easy to follow.
On the right was a narrow swampy gully, and across the back yards of houses, eerily quiet. On the left was a rock wall, and above on top of it were more back yards.
Eventually it came to a soggy, abandoned looking playground with a path cutting across from one side to the other. A stairway climbed the cliff to the left. I followed the path to the right, between two houses and onto the street.
At the end of this residential loop was a sign pointing down a narrow lane that ended in parking lot, and beyond, a couple of large buildings on the water's edge.
There was no one around, and a paper on the door I suspect said it was closed for the holiday. Peeking through a window, I saw all kinds of small boats and a stuffed seagull standing on some fishing nets.
Past the museum, a path wound along the edge of the water and over the rock. The setting is quite lovely. The museum is on the water, with a pier. SEveral outcrops and islands dot the water. All are very green and lush after all the rain.
I followed the path to a short bridge to an island. The path wound over the rock at the west end of the island, but there was a fence across, and goats grazed beyond. A short path led to the gate, with signage probably saying Keep Out.
On the other side, a longer and larger bridge lead to another island. This bridge was quite high, and I discovered that it was originally a draw bridge. The railing was designed to fold inward where two massive hinges in the deck showed the edge of the moving section. A frame held up cables from the far end of the raise-able section. Quite ingenious, and unused. The railings were nailed into place with heavy spikes.
Tomorrow would be the time to explore further. I retraced my steps back to the residential loop and then to the main road, rather than follow the path again.
Pm tje ,aom rpad. [ep[;e were beginning to appear again, in an obvious hurry. When I passed the graveyard is when that cannon went off again, twice, at 4:00. End of the workday?
AT the lake by the road, people stood in the middle and lined the wall on the side. The road looped into an apartment complex and people were everywhere but keeping this loop open. I could hear a band.
Soon a forest of flags appeared from around the corner This was the grownups parade, although there were kids everywhere. At least three marching bands, several groups with banners, young peoples groups too, motocross and one group wearing those red overalls I've seen everywhere.
After the parade, I followed the crowd again. Same gradual disbursement and eventually the streets were deserted.
I went back to the hotel and napped for a few minutes, after finding a pub behind the hotel. Nearly empty, and the only thing on tap was Hansa, but it was growing on me.
After the nap, I needed dinner. I discovered that all the restaurants closed early or all day, for the holiday. The only places open other than one pub and restaurant packed to the rafters was the fast food place I'd gone to for lunch, and the meat and chips place.
So I repeated the visit to the faux Italian. The place was almost deserted and the waiter and I repeated our meat and chips discussion. This time I got it without the Hollandaise-like sauce. It was a pretty good steak.
After that I walked to the other hotel and found a Ringnes in their lounge. I chased that with a Dalwhinnie and then went back to my hotel to do some laundry and to bed.
There was no cannon this morning, so it must have been only for the holiday.
I think I missed something yesterday. There must have been some place where people were gathering. The residential areas were very quiet but so was the downtown. People must have congregated somewhere.
May 18, 2010, 8:50 pm
The Hjornevikbua pub
I slept in a little this morning, there was no cannon to wake me up. I got up, and after breakfast I found the tourist information office, and got a map of the town.
A chat with the lady there got me a lot of information. Like, the time between the two parades yesterday, everyone was at some school with lots of activities. And after the second parade, there was a rowing competition on one of the lakes. I missed it all.
She called the lady who looks after the church at Kinn to see if I could get an ovff season tour. No dice; there's a funeral Thursday, and they are preparing for it tomorrow, so I can't get inside. But I am able to wander around the island on my own. So I have to be up for the ferry early tomorrow.
Then I decided to try the museum again. I walked down and found it open, and deserted except for staff. The lady who took my admission couldn't get the till to work so had to get change form the lunch counter.
The first part I went through showed some household furniture and ship models. Of course I had forgotten to charge the battery in my camera so at this point, it died.
Still, I wandered through an early 20th century household and checked out several styles of fishing boats. Lots of information about the early years of Florø:, but unfortunately it was all in Norwegian.
I went back to the hotel, plugged in the battery charger and went in search of lunch. Being a regular business day, places were open and not packed. I had a quick bite and went back to get my camera.
I headed out for the mountain east of town. The maps showed a hiking trail to the top so I set out in search of it.
I wend back to the museum and took the series of bridges and trails from there. A sound of sloshing in the water at one point startled me. I discovered a deer wading in the water by an old boat house.
No, sorry, after being at the museum, I followed that trail back to the hotel.
For the hike, I took the south side road. The school up that way had just got out, so lots of kids around. I came out past the south side, looking for a street that would take to the start of the trail to the mountain.
I walked past a swampy patch that the map showed as the start of the trail. It didn't look like there was a path anywhere there.
I walked up to another street that the map showed a path branching off and found it. But is just crossed a forested area to another crescent/cul-de-dac. The map showed that this might be reasonable so I walked along the street, looking for where the path continued. No sign.
A driveway branched up the slope, maybe not being a driveway but a path, and I ended up in what looked like someone's back yard. But there was a faint path from there, so I followed it and was soon in the forest.
I followed the path to the next cul-de-sac, and got lost for awhile. I found another path, which took me to another cul-de-sac. At least this one had an obvious marked path leading farther on.
This looked like the real path now. And there was a fair amount of climbing over rock and roots. Lots of we swampy paths, too. But then I was at another cul-de-sac. My map appeared to be seriously inaccurate.
A boy on a bicycle asked if I was lost. He confirmed the things I was seeing on the map, that the path continued form beside a scholl down the street. I got down to the school but could see no path. A guy drove up and after telling him what I was about, pointed out where the path started. From there it was straight forward. More rock and roots, and swampy parts, until I finally reacked the summit, by a telecommunications tower.
I took pictures. All of Florø was visible, and the surrounding island. There was a telescope on the lookout that I played with. Farther down was a prominence that I walked to, near the path as it came up out of the forest. Someone had build a cairn with several metal name plates. I took pictures of all sides, and some day will translate them.
I started back down, meeting a few groups going up. At the school, I took the street to the north and down to the main highway. Following that took me back to the hotel.
After a short nap (I seem to need them regularly), I went out looking for dinner. I decided to try the place that was so packed last night. Tonight is was quiet and I had what was probably the best meal so far on this trip. Afterward, I wend downstairs to the pub for a pint, which is where I now sit.
After the first pint, I went to check out where to to for the ferry. Then back to the hotel to get my journal and back here for a pint to write by.
I gotta head back to the hotel soon. I have and early day tomorrow.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Norway Day 6 - Constitution Day
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 17, 2010, 9:00 am
The Florø Comfort Inn
It's still raining. I hope the sunny skies promised for Bergen reach this far north.
The plane broke through the cloud as it descended, and I recognized the islands from the satellite photos I've been looking at.
The landing was pretty standard. Taxiing back to the terminal, I could see a long flat building with a space in front the size of a soccer field, and two guys at either side wearing safety vests. We stopped by one of them, who began to service the plane as the props spun down.
By the time I had my stuff gathered, I was last off, and followed the few others to the terminal. Through a door, I was in a room with a short conveyor from the outside. I don't think it was too much bigger than the hotel room I'm in now. Out the door on the other side was a small parking lot, and a deserted taxi stand.
I walked over to the other door, to the departures area, much bigger with chairs and a lunch counter, to dig out my jacket. Then a quick look at the town map on the wall beside the door to figure out where I was going.
Since there was no sign of a taxi, I thought I might as well walk. As far as I could tell, it was about a kilometre and a half to the hotel.
The light drizzle was enough to spot the pavement. It was quite warm and it was a nice scenic walk. A little unnerving when there was traffic because there was no shoulder, and in some places fences and rock outcrops came right to the pavement edge.
When I was two blocks from the hotel, a brass band started up. I thought that was quite a welcome.
There was a pavilion tent set up beside the hotel, and people and umbrellas everywhere.
I checked in and then went out to look around. by then the sky had opened up, but people seemed not to notice, standing and listening to the bands and speeches, or wandering down the main street, Strandgata.
On May 16, 1860, Florø was incorporated as a town to service and support the herring fishery. Yesterday marked the 150th anniversary.
I strolled down Strandgata from end to end, down to the other hotel, and on to a warf where people were getting to tour a tall ship and what I think was a small military ship.
A few blocks away, I found a shopping mall next to a large dockside parking lot, cleared of everything except a large stage being erected in one corner. This was a lot bigger than the one in use near my hotel.
I spotted a souvenir shop selling "I Florø" tee shirts, so I had to get one.
Later, I decided I'd better get something to eat since all I'd had since breakfast was the lefsa on the plane.
I found an Italian style place, although I don't think Italian extended past the decor.
I didn't expect to have so much trouble with a menu. When the waiter finally got to me, I asked about a couple of items on the menu, but about all we got clear on was "meat" and "chips." OK then, steak and fries. It was pretty good.
Afterwards, I walked through the pouring rain back to the hotel. The crowd had almost disappeared, although a band was still on the stage.
At the hotel, I crashed for about fifteen minutes. Then what? Well, go walk around and see what there is. I walked out of the hotel to find the pavilion tent being dismantled. Another band was playing 90s rock, but there was no one there to listen.
I walked east until it became evident I was following the main highway, so crossed south a block and went west. The highway narrowed and finally curved into a narrow lane, and I was walking past a sports field. By this time I was getting too wet, so headed back to the hotel.
On the stage, another band was playing Ozzie Osbourne tunes at high volume. I could hear them very well from my hotel room. And so it went. Not a soul there to listen as far as I could tell, but bands must have been booked to play until 11:00 cuz that's what they did. So much for early to bed.
No sleeping in this morning either. At 7:00 I was awakened by cannon fire. Three rounds to start the day, and it sounded close. And then a brass band started up. Still raining. I got up and dressed.
The breakfast spread here is not nearly so huge as in Oslo, but still a wonderful variety and lots to eat. I stuffed myself on eggs, meats, cheeses and breads. I didn't try the herring this morning, but I might yet try the mackerel.
Afterwards, I checked email, and then began to write this. Right now people are lining the street in the rain, and I can hear a bass drum somewhere. There were a couple more rounds from that cannon, too.
Gonna go check it all out.
May 17, 2010, 9:00 am
The Florø Comfort Inn
It's still raining. I hope the sunny skies promised for Bergen reach this far north.
The plane broke through the cloud as it descended, and I recognized the islands from the satellite photos I've been looking at.
The landing was pretty standard. Taxiing back to the terminal, I could see a long flat building with a space in front the size of a soccer field, and two guys at either side wearing safety vests. We stopped by one of them, who began to service the plane as the props spun down.
By the time I had my stuff gathered, I was last off, and followed the few others to the terminal. Through a door, I was in a room with a short conveyor from the outside. I don't think it was too much bigger than the hotel room I'm in now. Out the door on the other side was a small parking lot, and a deserted taxi stand.
I walked over to the other door, to the departures area, much bigger with chairs and a lunch counter, to dig out my jacket. Then a quick look at the town map on the wall beside the door to figure out where I was going.
Since there was no sign of a taxi, I thought I might as well walk. As far as I could tell, it was about a kilometre and a half to the hotel.
The light drizzle was enough to spot the pavement. It was quite warm and it was a nice scenic walk. A little unnerving when there was traffic because there was no shoulder, and in some places fences and rock outcrops came right to the pavement edge.
When I was two blocks from the hotel, a brass band started up. I thought that was quite a welcome.
There was a pavilion tent set up beside the hotel, and people and umbrellas everywhere.
I checked in and then went out to look around. by then the sky had opened up, but people seemed not to notice, standing and listening to the bands and speeches, or wandering down the main street, Strandgata.
On May 16, 1860, Florø was incorporated as a town to service and support the herring fishery. Yesterday marked the 150th anniversary.
I strolled down Strandgata from end to end, down to the other hotel, and on to a warf where people were getting to tour a tall ship and what I think was a small military ship.
A few blocks away, I found a shopping mall next to a large dockside parking lot, cleared of everything except a large stage being erected in one corner. This was a lot bigger than the one in use near my hotel.
I spotted a souvenir shop selling "I
Later, I decided I'd better get something to eat since all I'd had since breakfast was the lefsa on the plane.
I found an Italian style place, although I don't think Italian extended past the decor.
I didn't expect to have so much trouble with a menu. When the waiter finally got to me, I asked about a couple of items on the menu, but about all we got clear on was "meat" and "chips." OK then, steak and fries. It was pretty good.
Afterwards, I walked through the pouring rain back to the hotel. The crowd had almost disappeared, although a band was still on the stage.
At the hotel, I crashed for about fifteen minutes. Then what? Well, go walk around and see what there is. I walked out of the hotel to find the pavilion tent being dismantled. Another band was playing 90s rock, but there was no one there to listen.
I walked east until it became evident I was following the main highway, so crossed south a block and went west. The highway narrowed and finally curved into a narrow lane, and I was walking past a sports field. By this time I was getting too wet, so headed back to the hotel.
On the stage, another band was playing Ozzie Osbourne tunes at high volume. I could hear them very well from my hotel room. And so it went. Not a soul there to listen as far as I could tell, but bands must have been booked to play until 11:00 cuz that's what they did. So much for early to bed.
No sleeping in this morning either. At 7:00 I was awakened by cannon fire. Three rounds to start the day, and it sounded close. And then a brass band started up. Still raining. I got up and dressed.
The breakfast spread here is not nearly so huge as in Oslo, but still a wonderful variety and lots to eat. I stuffed myself on eggs, meats, cheeses and breads. I didn't try the herring this morning, but I might yet try the mackerel.
Afterwards, I checked email, and then began to write this. Right now people are lining the street in the rain, and I can hear a bass drum somewhere. There were a couple more rounds from that cannon, too.
Gonna go check it all out.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Norway Day 5 - To Florø
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 16, 2010, 8:10 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Man, I am gonna miss this breakfast. I eat every well here, and I hope that all the walking I've been doing is balancing the calorie intake. All those cheeses, cured meats and buttered breads. The herring is okay, but salty. I like being able to sample a few things that are usually not on my radar.
I'm a little sad to be leaving today. There are a lot of places I haven't seen, but those will be for next time. Rain has finally come, and it looks to have settled in. Last night there was even some lightning.
I don't have much to write about this morning. Most of what I had to say came out of the marathon writing session last night.
In about an hour, I'll be off to Gardermoen, so maybe will have more to say there.
May 16, 2010, 10:30 am
Oslo Lufthavn, Gardermoen
This airport is a heck of a lot bigger than I thought. It's one long hall and the gate I'm leaving from is at the very end. It might not be that long, but it feels like I walked at least a kilometre from the security gate.
I'm now enjoying a coffee and muffin while waiting for my flight. This country has the best coffee ever.
I got packed up and out of the hotel shortly after breakfast. I rather like that my hotel was prepaid. I just told them I was off and that was it.
I walked the block to the train station through a light rain, but it's rather nice out otherwise.
At the station, I wandered through to the far side to fine the train to the airport. There was a guy helping people at the ticket machines and he walked me through the process.
Out on the platform, I walked down a ways, and sat on a bench. The schedule was up on an electronic board beside me, and a raven was doing his noisy thing from a support beam over the tracks.
The train to Gardermoen runs every twenty minutes so it wasn't a long wait. On board, I had the entire car to myself.
Twenty five minutes later, I walked off the train, and had a bit of an issue with the gates. The ticket you buy has a magnetic strip, but after you buy it, you just put it in your pocket. It's at your destination where you have to swipe it to get through a gate, or you don't get off the platform.
Up the escalators and not a very long walk, I got to the Danish Air Transport (DAT) counter,. Almost no one was there, so I was through quick. The line up at the security gate was almost non-existent, but I did get held up for a minute. The guy in front of me was lucky enough to be randomly selected for a full search, and I had to wait while they patted him down.
A line jumper charged past me while I stood there, figuring, I guess, that the rest of us were silly for standing and waiting. He didn't get very far, and was chased to the back of the line.
After that, the long walk to Gate 4. Being a propeller driven aircraft, and in the pouring rain, I will have to walk outside to climb into the plane from the tarmac
Still an hour to go, so I'll go explore a little.
May 16, 2010, 12:25 pm
Aboard DAT DX35
Oh my gosh! No cookies served on board this flight. No peanuts, no pretzel mix. Instead a small packet of lefsa! Wonderful lefsa!
This was the standard (wonderful, delicious) recipe - butter, sugar and cinnamon rolled up in a potato crepe. Delicious! I'd totally forgotten about lefsa.
I've been told my grandmother used to make it for Christmas. My grandfather would bring a scrubbed steel plate to place on the wood stove, to provide a flat surface to cook the thin pancakes. I've also been told she was not fond of the job.
It's a pretty scene-less flight. Early on there were some glimpses of the country side, but now it's all featureless cloud. This twin prop can't climb above it.
There is only half a load too, maybe half a load. Unless they are in a pair, we each have a row to ourselves. I'm sitting ahead of the wing, just behind the propeller, probably a noisier place to sit. Maybe way in the back, it's quieter.
Almost no English has been spoken, but the procedures are much the same with all airlines. They did say in English that the safety procedures had just been given in Norwegian, keep your seat belt on and we'll be round with coffee in a moment, to paraphrase.
Sunshine! We've broken through the cloud for a moment, but it's still pretty white below. I think we'll be down within the next half hour.
May 16, 2010, 11:50 pm
The Comfort Inn at Florø
I seem to have interesting timing, as I walked into a party. It's the 150th anniversary of Florø being established as a town, and there were people in traditional dress, and live entertainment, and speeches.
Unfortunately, the entertainment is really loud, but it appears the finally called it a night a few minutes ago.
It's been a long day.
May 16, 2010, 8:10 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Man, I am gonna miss this breakfast. I eat every well here, and I hope that all the walking I've been doing is balancing the calorie intake. All those cheeses, cured meats and buttered breads. The herring is okay, but salty. I like being able to sample a few things that are usually not on my radar.
I'm a little sad to be leaving today. There are a lot of places I haven't seen, but those will be for next time. Rain has finally come, and it looks to have settled in. Last night there was even some lightning.
I don't have much to write about this morning. Most of what I had to say came out of the marathon writing session last night.
In about an hour, I'll be off to Gardermoen, so maybe will have more to say there.
May 16, 2010, 10:30 am
Oslo Lufthavn, Gardermoen
This airport is a heck of a lot bigger than I thought. It's one long hall and the gate I'm leaving from is at the very end. It might not be that long, but it feels like I walked at least a kilometre from the security gate.
I'm now enjoying a coffee and muffin while waiting for my flight. This country has the best coffee ever.
I got packed up and out of the hotel shortly after breakfast. I rather like that my hotel was prepaid. I just told them I was off and that was it.
I walked the block to the train station through a light rain, but it's rather nice out otherwise.
At the station, I wandered through to the far side to fine the train to the airport. There was a guy helping people at the ticket machines and he walked me through the process.
Out on the platform, I walked down a ways, and sat on a bench. The schedule was up on an electronic board beside me, and a raven was doing his noisy thing from a support beam over the tracks.
The train to Gardermoen runs every twenty minutes so it wasn't a long wait. On board, I had the entire car to myself.
Twenty five minutes later, I walked off the train, and had a bit of an issue with the gates. The ticket you buy has a magnetic strip, but after you buy it, you just put it in your pocket. It's at your destination where you have to swipe it to get through a gate, or you don't get off the platform.
Up the escalators and not a very long walk, I got to the Danish Air Transport (DAT) counter,. Almost no one was there, so I was through quick. The line up at the security gate was almost non-existent, but I did get held up for a minute. The guy in front of me was lucky enough to be randomly selected for a full search, and I had to wait while they patted him down.
A line jumper charged past me while I stood there, figuring, I guess, that the rest of us were silly for standing and waiting. He didn't get very far, and was chased to the back of the line.
After that, the long walk to Gate 4. Being a propeller driven aircraft, and in the pouring rain, I will have to walk outside to climb into the plane from the tarmac
Still an hour to go, so I'll go explore a little.
May 16, 2010, 12:25 pm
Aboard DAT DX35
Oh my gosh! No cookies served on board this flight. No peanuts, no pretzel mix. Instead a small packet of lefsa! Wonderful lefsa!
This was the standard (wonderful, delicious) recipe - butter, sugar and cinnamon rolled up in a potato crepe. Delicious! I'd totally forgotten about lefsa.
I've been told my grandmother used to make it for Christmas. My grandfather would bring a scrubbed steel plate to place on the wood stove, to provide a flat surface to cook the thin pancakes. I've also been told she was not fond of the job.
It's a pretty scene-less flight. Early on there were some glimpses of the country side, but now it's all featureless cloud. This twin prop can't climb above it.
There is only half a load too, maybe half a load. Unless they are in a pair, we each have a row to ourselves. I'm sitting ahead of the wing, just behind the propeller, probably a noisier place to sit. Maybe way in the back, it's quieter.
Almost no English has been spoken, but the procedures are much the same with all airlines. They did say in English that the safety procedures had just been given in Norwegian, keep your seat belt on and we'll be round with coffee in a moment, to paraphrase.
Sunshine! We've broken through the cloud for a moment, but it's still pretty white below. I think we'll be down within the next half hour.
May 16, 2010, 11:50 pm
The Comfort Inn at Florø
I seem to have interesting timing, as I walked into a party. It's the 150th anniversary of Florø being established as a town, and there were people in traditional dress, and live entertainment, and speeches.
Unfortunately, the entertainment is really loud, but it appears the finally called it a night a few minutes ago.
It's been a long day.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Norway Day 4 - Oslo Again
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 15, 2010, 7:15 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Whoops, too early this morning. The full spread breakfast is just being put out now, but I stuffed myself on the early bird buffet. I've eaten very well so far, in some really nice places.
Last Night I finally got up and moving after a few minutes back in my room. I felt exhausted and was looking forward to crashing for the night. But I thought I should try and get something to eat.
I remembered an Irish pub near the palace, so I went in search. I think I may have found it, but at the time I wasn't sure of it. Every patio was packed and I came from a different direction, too.
I went into one place, but it seemed to be pretty busy, so I wandered down the street some more. And found myself back at the harbour and Aker Brygge.
It was packed, or at least the patios were. Getting a table outside seemed near impossible. But I ventured through the crowd at one inviting place and confirmed that everyone was outside. I had the bar to myself.
I asked about getting something to eat, and the bartender said they had closed the kitchen early.
This place had the redeeming quality of having on tap something else besides the standard Guinness-Kilkenny-Ringnes triad that I had seen in several other places. The only other place I had ever seen Murphy's stout on tap was in a wonderful Irish pub in Victoria last summer.
I found another spot a hunderes metres down the street that seemed inviting. Same as before, after pushing my way through the throng on the patio, I found the inside nearly deserted.
The wait staff were busy so it took a while for them to notice me. I was kind of behind a pillar and a stairway. But I had a quickly delvered Ringnes anda very good dinner, in a nice quiet atmosphere.
After that I felt pretty much done, and wandered back to the first pub I found, thinking a pint of Murphy's would be a nice night cap.
Perhaps it was the great meal, or maybe something in the pint, but I started to wake up. I chatted a little with the barkeep, but he was kept hopping with the patio crowd.
Occasionally others would come to the bar for self serve. One woman tapped my glass, and commented on how dark the Murphy's was. Someone else chatted about the evening and the weather while waiting for his pint.
I asked for another. I was beginning to get my second wind.
An older couple came in and took a table near the bar. The man came up to get a couple of pints, and we talked a little. After He sat down with his companion, for a few moments, he hollered across the din, asking if I was drinking alone, and would I like to join them.
I had a great time talking with this wonderful couple. I often got lost in their accent and sometimes they had a short discussion over what English words they were looking for, but we had a great discussion.
Names, of course, escape me. The gentleman escaped to the bar for refills and came back with two shot glasses, asking if I'd heard of aquavit. Well, yes, but never tasted.
Skoal, said he, and took a sip. I was glad to see that he was not the shooter type. It seems odd to pay for some fancy concoction, only to knock it back without tasting it. I took a sip and savoured.
After that I got myself another pint. We had been so involved in the conversation that they had missed their ferry, so they were in no hurry as they had to wait for the next one.
Near midnight we said good night after having had a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Ther ferry landing was directly across from the bar, so they didn't have far to go.
I wandered back along the harbour in the middle of the crowd. I found the Nobel Center, something I was looking for earlier in the day when I first went to Aker Brygge, so now it's on my list for today.
I cut straight over to Karl Johan and walked with the flow. There was a wonderful energy out there, loud and brash and relaxed and fun. A little like Robson Street, a little like Younge Street (in my very limited experience) but looser maybe.
I finally got back to the hotel and discovered the lounge was still open. So what the heck, I thought I'd treat myself to a single malt. I just got there before it closed up and talked to a petroleum engineering contractor for awhile. comparing notes about working in the energy industry.
After that, I check my emails and then went to my room and to bed.
And now I'm stuffed from another great breakfast, sitting under a monstrous twenty five metre high Norwegian flag, and enjoying this great coffee.
Time to start into another day.
May 15, 2010, 8:55
The lounge in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
I'm tired tonight. I've had two long days and both were really good.
This morning, after leaving here, I went for a stroll. I had an hour before anything was open, and I had a handful of post cards to mail.
So I took a stroll northward. I walked for several blocks until I came to a small stream. It was well below the street level, and was bordered by a lovely park. I stayed on the street though, and walked along it to the west.
Eventually I came to a major intersection that crossed a bridge. A date on the bridge railing said 1892. On the other side, the street split, and I followed the one going southeast. It took me right back tot the hotel.
I kept wandering, this time going east, and found an open square. And on one corner I discovered a postal outlet.
The other thing I needed was another memory stick for my camera, as I've been pointing and firing rather indiscriminately. Up past the open square and south, I found a Canon camera shop.
I still had twenty minutes before anything was open, so kept wandering. You know how when you look for something like that, and you never see anything? And then when you finally locate one, you suddenly see them on every corner? Two more small camera shops, and electronics store and a huge Japan Camera store that I must have walked past when I walked out of the train station a couple of days ago.
At 10:00, I went back to the postal outlet, and got the postcards off. Then to the Canon store for memory. The salesman asked me to plug it into my camera to make sure it worked - 3123 picture capacity should be enough.
Then off to the harbour. I walked past the Oslo city hall, in my opinion the ugliest and most imposing building in the city. I stopped at a Minibank, as they call ATMs, and then headed for Pier 3 to catch the ferry to Bygdǿy.
The girl at the ticket booth said I was too late to join the line just loading, but she directed me to a wonderful coffee shop at the edge of Aker Brygge. I had time for a muffin and coffee.
The ferry was like a bus, two to a seat or stand in the aisle and hold onto to a pole. After ten minutes we unloaded at Bygdǿy, at one of two stops it makes.
This is a beautiful residential area of Oslo. Beautiful old homes behind iron or stone fences. The architecture is similar to what is downtown.
The crowd walked up a long street, maybe a kilometre, to the Viking ships museum. Some went west from there to the Heritage Communities museum.
Wow, this was amazing! The three ships were discovered around 1900, excavated and studied, then for some reason the bodies buried with them were re-interred. The first ship that you see right front the ticket counter is amazing. Very detailed in decoration, the bow and stern have some intricate carvings of what look like dragons or serpents.
The building these things are in is laid out in a cross shape, with the three arms housing the boats, and a forth displaying the artifacts found with them. In each room there are balconies at near the centre of the cross on each side, so you can climb up and look down on the boats to see inside them.
The frist one is decorated and the gunwales would have been close to the water line, likely a pleasure boat for site seeing on calm days. It was buried with two women, one in her eighties and one about twenty five. The boat was extremely well preserved, though the bodies deteriorated a lot after re-interment.
The second boat was bigger and plainer, a working boat, and probably sea going. The guy that was buried with it died in a fight, possibly a dual. One leg bone was partially hacked through. And there was other damage, none of which showed signs of healing, so he had to have died within a week of whatever happened.
The third boat, there wasn't much left of it. Most of the keel and the ribs, and the bottom boards. The sides and the stern were gone. The body buried with it is also mostly gone.
Grave robbers got to all three sites very soon after burial, and the burial mounds were pretty messed up.
The aritfacts were neat. Pieces of cloth with embroidery still evident. There were sleighs, very ornately carved food containers, tool chests. The dead had to eat and had work to do, apparently.
Another kilometre walk through more of this beautiful residential area and I was at three more museums.
The Fram was an icebreaker of sorts. It was designed so that if it was caught in the ice it would be pushed upward rather than be crushed like other boats.
It was taken through the Northwest Passage once, took someone on an expedition to the North Pole, and took Amundsen to the South Pole. The whole boat is housed in a huge A frame building. Balconies circle the building lined with photos and artifacts.
From the top balcony, you can get on the boat and wander most of the deck. You can go down to the first deck below, where the kitchen and living quarters were. And to the secon deck down, where there was storage, more quarters and access to the engine room.
The hatches were open above, and from the top deck you can see people moving around below. The hatches were screened and fenced off so no one could fall through.
It was fascinating to see this and the stories of the expeditions.
Across the street was the Kon-Tiki Museum. It houses the actual Kon-Tiki that Thor Heyerdahl took across the Pacific. There is also a reed boat that was sailed across the Atlantic.
Lots of information on the Easter Island statues and inhabitants. It was fascinating stuff, but my back was beginning to hurt.
Sometimes if I'm on my feet for a long time, My lower back begins to ache. So I skipped the Maritime Museum and queued up in the rain for the ferry back to Pier 3.
Yet I still didn't quit. Once off the ferry, I headed for the Nobel Center. Much of the exhibits focused on Desmond Tutu and F. W. de Klerk, and the end apartheid in South Africa on the main floor. Upstairs there was an exhibit on Barack Obama, and lots of information about Alfred Nobel and overviews of all the Peace Prize winners.
By now my back was really aching. I was probably reaching a saturation point on museums too. Achy. Tired.
Hungry! And all those restaurants at Aker Brygge were right next door. I went down that way and chose a place that after I settled in, looked a little more high brow than I first thought.
Price-wise it was much the same as everwhere else I've been. I was started and ate really well - cod with pureed potatoes and asparagus.
Then I walked back to the hotel and crashed for half an hour.
I went out after in search of another pint. A place that had caught my eye was paddy's, which I lost track of last night, but had found.
I had a pint and sat for awhile. Then headed back toward the hotel. A few blocks down karl Johan and the skies opened up. Street vendors were scrambling to pack up, and get under shelter.
I walked past 3Brǿdre and a full patio was trying to cram itself inside. It began to let up after awhile, but I was pretty damp.
At the hotel I dried out for a bit, then headed to the lounge where I'm writing this. I'm beat and saturated with museum knowledge. Another awesome day!
May 15, 2010, 7:15 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Whoops, too early this morning. The full spread breakfast is just being put out now, but I stuffed myself on the early bird buffet. I've eaten very well so far, in some really nice places.
Last Night I finally got up and moving after a few minutes back in my room. I felt exhausted and was looking forward to crashing for the night. But I thought I should try and get something to eat.
I remembered an Irish pub near the palace, so I went in search. I think I may have found it, but at the time I wasn't sure of it. Every patio was packed and I came from a different direction, too.
I went into one place, but it seemed to be pretty busy, so I wandered down the street some more. And found myself back at the harbour and Aker Brygge.
It was packed, or at least the patios were. Getting a table outside seemed near impossible. But I ventured through the crowd at one inviting place and confirmed that everyone was outside. I had the bar to myself.
I asked about getting something to eat, and the bartender said they had closed the kitchen early.
This place had the redeeming quality of having on tap something else besides the standard Guinness-Kilkenny-Ringnes triad that I had seen in several other places. The only other place I had ever seen Murphy's stout on tap was in a wonderful Irish pub in Victoria last summer.
I found another spot a hunderes metres down the street that seemed inviting. Same as before, after pushing my way through the throng on the patio, I found the inside nearly deserted.
The wait staff were busy so it took a while for them to notice me. I was kind of behind a pillar and a stairway. But I had a quickly delvered Ringnes anda very good dinner, in a nice quiet atmosphere.
After that I felt pretty much done, and wandered back to the first pub I found, thinking a pint of Murphy's would be a nice night cap.
Perhaps it was the great meal, or maybe something in the pint, but I started to wake up. I chatted a little with the barkeep, but he was kept hopping with the patio crowd.
Occasionally others would come to the bar for self serve. One woman tapped my glass, and commented on how dark the Murphy's was. Someone else chatted about the evening and the weather while waiting for his pint.
I asked for another. I was beginning to get my second wind.
An older couple came in and took a table near the bar. The man came up to get a couple of pints, and we talked a little. After He sat down with his companion, for a few moments, he hollered across the din, asking if I was drinking alone, and would I like to join them.
I had a great time talking with this wonderful couple. I often got lost in their accent and sometimes they had a short discussion over what English words they were looking for, but we had a great discussion.
Names, of course, escape me. The gentleman escaped to the bar for refills and came back with two shot glasses, asking if I'd heard of aquavit. Well, yes, but never tasted.
Skoal, said he, and took a sip. I was glad to see that he was not the shooter type. It seems odd to pay for some fancy concoction, only to knock it back without tasting it. I took a sip and savoured.
After that I got myself another pint. We had been so involved in the conversation that they had missed their ferry, so they were in no hurry as they had to wait for the next one.
Near midnight we said good night after having had a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Ther ferry landing was directly across from the bar, so they didn't have far to go.
I wandered back along the harbour in the middle of the crowd. I found the Nobel Center, something I was looking for earlier in the day when I first went to Aker Brygge, so now it's on my list for today.
I cut straight over to Karl Johan and walked with the flow. There was a wonderful energy out there, loud and brash and relaxed and fun. A little like Robson Street, a little like Younge Street (in my very limited experience) but looser maybe.
I finally got back to the hotel and discovered the lounge was still open. So what the heck, I thought I'd treat myself to a single malt. I just got there before it closed up and talked to a petroleum engineering contractor for awhile. comparing notes about working in the energy industry.
After that, I check my emails and then went to my room and to bed.
And now I'm stuffed from another great breakfast, sitting under a monstrous twenty five metre high Norwegian flag, and enjoying this great coffee.
Time to start into another day.
May 15, 2010, 8:55
The lounge in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
I'm tired tonight. I've had two long days and both were really good.
This morning, after leaving here, I went for a stroll. I had an hour before anything was open, and I had a handful of post cards to mail.
So I took a stroll northward. I walked for several blocks until I came to a small stream. It was well below the street level, and was bordered by a lovely park. I stayed on the street though, and walked along it to the west.
Eventually I came to a major intersection that crossed a bridge. A date on the bridge railing said 1892. On the other side, the street split, and I followed the one going southeast. It took me right back tot the hotel.
I kept wandering, this time going east, and found an open square. And on one corner I discovered a postal outlet.
The other thing I needed was another memory stick for my camera, as I've been pointing and firing rather indiscriminately. Up past the open square and south, I found a Canon camera shop.
I still had twenty minutes before anything was open, so kept wandering. You know how when you look for something like that, and you never see anything? And then when you finally locate one, you suddenly see them on every corner? Two more small camera shops, and electronics store and a huge Japan Camera store that I must have walked past when I walked out of the train station a couple of days ago.
At 10:00, I went back to the postal outlet, and got the postcards off. Then to the Canon store for memory. The salesman asked me to plug it into my camera to make sure it worked - 3123 picture capacity should be enough.
Then off to the harbour. I walked past the Oslo city hall, in my opinion the ugliest and most imposing building in the city. I stopped at a Minibank, as they call ATMs, and then headed for Pier 3 to catch the ferry to Bygdǿy.
The girl at the ticket booth said I was too late to join the line just loading, but she directed me to a wonderful coffee shop at the edge of Aker Brygge. I had time for a muffin and coffee.
The ferry was like a bus, two to a seat or stand in the aisle and hold onto to a pole. After ten minutes we unloaded at Bygdǿy, at one of two stops it makes.
This is a beautiful residential area of Oslo. Beautiful old homes behind iron or stone fences. The architecture is similar to what is downtown.
The crowd walked up a long street, maybe a kilometre, to the Viking ships museum. Some went west from there to the Heritage Communities museum.
Wow, this was amazing! The three ships were discovered around 1900, excavated and studied, then for some reason the bodies buried with them were re-interred. The first ship that you see right front the ticket counter is amazing. Very detailed in decoration, the bow and stern have some intricate carvings of what look like dragons or serpents.
The building these things are in is laid out in a cross shape, with the three arms housing the boats, and a forth displaying the artifacts found with them. In each room there are balconies at near the centre of the cross on each side, so you can climb up and look down on the boats to see inside them.
The frist one is decorated and the gunwales would have been close to the water line, likely a pleasure boat for site seeing on calm days. It was buried with two women, one in her eighties and one about twenty five. The boat was extremely well preserved, though the bodies deteriorated a lot after re-interment.
The second boat was bigger and plainer, a working boat, and probably sea going. The guy that was buried with it died in a fight, possibly a dual. One leg bone was partially hacked through. And there was other damage, none of which showed signs of healing, so he had to have died within a week of whatever happened.
The third boat, there wasn't much left of it. Most of the keel and the ribs, and the bottom boards. The sides and the stern were gone. The body buried with it is also mostly gone.
Grave robbers got to all three sites very soon after burial, and the burial mounds were pretty messed up.
The aritfacts were neat. Pieces of cloth with embroidery still evident. There were sleighs, very ornately carved food containers, tool chests. The dead had to eat and had work to do, apparently.
Another kilometre walk through more of this beautiful residential area and I was at three more museums.
The Fram was an icebreaker of sorts. It was designed so that if it was caught in the ice it would be pushed upward rather than be crushed like other boats.
It was taken through the Northwest Passage once, took someone on an expedition to the North Pole, and took Amundsen to the South Pole. The whole boat is housed in a huge A frame building. Balconies circle the building lined with photos and artifacts.
From the top balcony, you can get on the boat and wander most of the deck. You can go down to the first deck below, where the kitchen and living quarters were. And to the secon deck down, where there was storage, more quarters and access to the engine room.
The hatches were open above, and from the top deck you can see people moving around below. The hatches were screened and fenced off so no one could fall through.
It was fascinating to see this and the stories of the expeditions.
Across the street was the Kon-Tiki Museum. It houses the actual Kon-Tiki that Thor Heyerdahl took across the Pacific. There is also a reed boat that was sailed across the Atlantic.
Lots of information on the Easter Island statues and inhabitants. It was fascinating stuff, but my back was beginning to hurt.
Sometimes if I'm on my feet for a long time, My lower back begins to ache. So I skipped the Maritime Museum and queued up in the rain for the ferry back to Pier 3.
Yet I still didn't quit. Once off the ferry, I headed for the Nobel Center. Much of the exhibits focused on Desmond Tutu and F. W. de Klerk, and the end apartheid in South Africa on the main floor. Upstairs there was an exhibit on Barack Obama, and lots of information about Alfred Nobel and overviews of all the Peace Prize winners.
By now my back was really aching. I was probably reaching a saturation point on museums too. Achy. Tired.
Hungry! And all those restaurants at Aker Brygge were right next door. I went down that way and chose a place that after I settled in, looked a little more high brow than I first thought.
Price-wise it was much the same as everwhere else I've been. I was started and ate really well - cod with pureed potatoes and asparagus.
Then I walked back to the hotel and crashed for half an hour.
I went out after in search of another pint. A place that had caught my eye was paddy's, which I lost track of last night, but had found.
I had a pint and sat for awhile. Then headed back toward the hotel. A few blocks down karl Johan and the skies opened up. Street vendors were scrambling to pack up, and get under shelter.
I walked past 3Brǿdre and a full patio was trying to cram itself inside. It began to let up after awhile, but I was pretty damp.
At the hotel I dried out for a bit, then headed to the lounge where I'm writing this. I'm beat and saturated with museum knowledge. Another awesome day!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Norway Day 3 - Oslo!
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 14, 2010, 6:50 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Breakfast! OMG, it's amazing! Blue cheese, brown cheese, all kinds of cheeses, breads, eggs, meats, fish of all kinds. And the coffee is probably the best I've every had.
OK, the herring and sardines are pretty good, but they might be better with a beer for a snack.
Anyway, yesterday, we descended through the cloud bank on to the runway of the most picturesque airport. Gardermoen is much bigger than I expected, and it has the most beautiful terminal I've seen in my limited travels.
One way it reminds me of Calgary is how two thirds of the planes at the gates are SAS 737s, much like the WetJet fleet dominates Calgary.
Oh gosh, there's the cutest little four year old at the nest table, telling me about her breakfast, and I have no idea what she's saying. Adorable.
What was cool about Gardermoen was after a long walk down a hallway, I took an escalator down a floor, through customs, and another escalator that took me right to the train. Mere steps from plane to train to take me right to downtown Oslo. Why can't Calgary get it's act together and get the C-Train to the airport?
At the station, in the heart of Oslo, I walked out, across the street, and into my hotel.
The hotel was a bit of a shock as the view from the steps of the train station is obscured by scaffolding and construction. But I think that might be work on a separate building. The front door to the hotel is a few steps beyond.
I was told that all is prepaid, and breakfast included, as well as all kinds of other amenities.
The hotel is dominated by an eight story atrium, where I'm sitting right now. The restaurant lies at the bottom and I am under a sky light eight stories up. Four glass sided elevators slide up and down one wall.
My room is off the balcony/hallway around the atrium on the eighth floor, in a small collection of rooms off a circular hallway. I think there's a stairway in the centre.
I have a limited view because of a rooftop deck and the closeness of the buildings opposite.
My room is a little small and oddly angled, but delightfully cozy. It's actually in a short spur hallway off the circle, which leads to the Christiana Suite, so the sign on the door says. Classy neighbours!
After settling in a little, I went out in search of dinner.
What a beautiful town! The architecture is gorgeous. Streets go every which way at times, but mostly on a grid. There is a modern looking streetcar system.
I ended up trying a place called The Scotsman.
I'm kind of annoyed at myself for this. It's a steakhouse basically, below an English style pub. And I had an Angus burger and a Kilkenny, something that I could have any time at home. I shied away from the reindeer steak which is what I should have tried.
But it was good. I went back to the hotel for a moment after, then went out wandering. Eventually I settled in a place called 3Brødre, with nothing on tap except Kilkenny, Guinness and Ringnes, a local Pilsner. It's quite good.
A woman appeared beside me and asked if she could talk to me while waiting for a friend. She said her name was Anita and she was from Trondheim, of Lapland ancestry. She was great fun to talk to, although I got lost in her accent sometimes. She said Laps are much more outgoing than the southern Norwegian, so I should expect such forwardness if I go north.
We talked through a pint before all the flying and lack of sleep caught up to me, so I said good night and headed back to the hotel.
There's a high school team of some sort, all black hoodies with the name Kangaroo on the back. All piling up breakfast and noisily congregating at a long table.
I just got a poke in the arm from that little girl. She's done with breakfast and is getting restless. I tried to say hi, but she's suddenly shy.
OK, gotta start the day!
May 14, 2010, 5:35 pm
A lounge in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
I am beat. I feel like I've been everywhere today.
I went up to the palace this morning and took some pictures. I even got one of me and a palace guard. And then I wandered behind the palace and out on to the streets again.
Another guard was at the side guarding a gate to the royal gardens, which are closed until late May.
After coming around the gardens and palace, I strolled through the park that stretches between the palace and the parliament building. Oslo University is split by the park, big yellow buildings on the north and a building or two on the south.
Just past that is the national theatre, so I too a few pictures of that and of the threatre themed names of close by restaurants.
Back on Karl Johan, the main drag, I found a brasserie and sat outside with a coffee. There was a touristy magazine and such shop near the university in the park, where I'd bought a handful of post cards. I sat outside of the brasserie and wrote up some of them.
This town has the best coffee! Everywhere I've had one, it's been excellent.
After that, I wandered toward the harbour. I found myself on a street that ended near what looked to be a huge stone wall. There was a small paddock with a couple of horses.
Up the street a ways was a large group of people, obviously on some kind of tour. As they moved off, I went through the arch in the stone wall that they had come out of.
Akershus Fortress was begun in the 13th century, to protect the country and Oslo. It sits on a rock outcrop beside the harbour.
I walked around some, up a path that went over another stone wall,. And through a stone arch.
A path doubled back to the top of the wall over the arch, where there were cannons, and one of the royal guards. The path was blocked off, so I didn't go up there.
But there was a path around the side through another arch, to a grassy area overlooking the city.
Back the other way was a raised area. On top were more cannons and a wonderful view of the harbour, and a sheer drop down the stone wall to the street below. It must have been thirty metres. The view I assumed to be wonderful, as it was mostly blocked by one bloody huge cruise ship.
Back down from this, another archway lead into the inner court yard. There was a doorway to a gift shop and the start of a tour through the castle.
There was also a blocked off tunnel, I guess you could call it. Very dark and spooky. There's a ghost story with it too. Some 18th century caretaker woke to a huge crash on night to be told that this passage had collapsed. He went down into it, against the protestations from servants, and was savaged by a large vicious dog dragging a broken heavy chain. He never recovered from his injuries and died some days later.
Anyway, I took the tour. It starts in what was the original kitchen, and then a short stairway goes up to the sheriff's office.
From there is a long narrow passage and stairway that leads to the dungeon. This passage parallels the spooky one from the courtyard, now that I think of it. The walls here are up to three metres thick.
Then it crosses to the royal crypt where only one king and queen lie. Also the prince and his wife are beside them. Across from this room are two other graves, but they contain only the skulls of three rulers.
Up some more stairs and I was in a church. It's actually still a working church, used by the military, which explains the army chaplain who was talking with a young couple. They do weddings, funerals and baptisms for military personnel.
After that, I went into dark rooms, and I don't remember exactly the order of things. I think the next place was what is left of the massive main tower, that was called the Dare Devil. The main reception room as it's modernly used for but was originally a store room. No, that came later.
May 14, 2010, 6:50 am
The restaurant in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
Breakfast! OMG, it's amazing! Blue cheese, brown cheese, all kinds of cheeses, breads, eggs, meats, fish of all kinds. And the coffee is probably the best I've every had.
OK, the herring and sardines are pretty good, but they might be better with a beer for a snack.
Anyway, yesterday, we descended through the cloud bank on to the runway of the most picturesque airport. Gardermoen is much bigger than I expected, and it has the most beautiful terminal I've seen in my limited travels.
One way it reminds me of Calgary is how two thirds of the planes at the gates are SAS 737s, much like the WetJet fleet dominates Calgary.
Oh gosh, there's the cutest little four year old at the nest table, telling me about her breakfast, and I have no idea what she's saying. Adorable.
What was cool about Gardermoen was after a long walk down a hallway, I took an escalator down a floor, through customs, and another escalator that took me right to the train. Mere steps from plane to train to take me right to downtown Oslo. Why can't Calgary get it's act together and get the C-Train to the airport?
At the station, in the heart of Oslo, I walked out, across the street, and into my hotel.
The hotel was a bit of a shock as the view from the steps of the train station is obscured by scaffolding and construction. But I think that might be work on a separate building. The front door to the hotel is a few steps beyond.
I was told that all is prepaid, and breakfast included, as well as all kinds of other amenities.
The hotel is dominated by an eight story atrium, where I'm sitting right now. The restaurant lies at the bottom and I am under a sky light eight stories up. Four glass sided elevators slide up and down one wall.
My room is off the balcony/hallway around the atrium on the eighth floor, in a small collection of rooms off a circular hallway. I think there's a stairway in the centre.
I have a limited view because of a rooftop deck and the closeness of the buildings opposite.
My room is a little small and oddly angled, but delightfully cozy. It's actually in a short spur hallway off the circle, which leads to the Christiana Suite, so the sign on the door says. Classy neighbours!
After settling in a little, I went out in search of dinner.
What a beautiful town! The architecture is gorgeous. Streets go every which way at times, but mostly on a grid. There is a modern looking streetcar system.
I ended up trying a place called The Scotsman.
I'm kind of annoyed at myself for this. It's a steakhouse basically, below an English style pub. And I had an Angus burger and a Kilkenny, something that I could have any time at home. I shied away from the reindeer steak which is what I should have tried.
But it was good. I went back to the hotel for a moment after, then went out wandering. Eventually I settled in a place called 3Brødre, with nothing on tap except Kilkenny, Guinness and Ringnes, a local Pilsner. It's quite good.
A woman appeared beside me and asked if she could talk to me while waiting for a friend. She said her name was Anita and she was from Trondheim, of Lapland ancestry. She was great fun to talk to, although I got lost in her accent sometimes. She said Laps are much more outgoing than the southern Norwegian, so I should expect such forwardness if I go north.
We talked through a pint before all the flying and lack of sleep caught up to me, so I said good night and headed back to the hotel.
There's a high school team of some sort, all black hoodies with the name Kangaroo on the back. All piling up breakfast and noisily congregating at a long table.
I just got a poke in the arm from that little girl. She's done with breakfast and is getting restless. I tried to say hi, but she's suddenly shy.
OK, gotta start the day!
May 14, 2010, 5:35 pm
A lounge in the Clarion Hotel Royal Christiania
I am beat. I feel like I've been everywhere today.
I went up to the palace this morning and took some pictures. I even got one of me and a palace guard. And then I wandered behind the palace and out on to the streets again.
Another guard was at the side guarding a gate to the royal gardens, which are closed until late May.
After coming around the gardens and palace, I strolled through the park that stretches between the palace and the parliament building. Oslo University is split by the park, big yellow buildings on the north and a building or two on the south.
Just past that is the national theatre, so I too a few pictures of that and of the threatre themed names of close by restaurants.
Back on Karl Johan, the main drag, I found a brasserie and sat outside with a coffee. There was a touristy magazine and such shop near the university in the park, where I'd bought a handful of post cards. I sat outside of the brasserie and wrote up some of them.
This town has the best coffee! Everywhere I've had one, it's been excellent.
After that, I wandered toward the harbour. I found myself on a street that ended near what looked to be a huge stone wall. There was a small paddock with a couple of horses.
Up the street a ways was a large group of people, obviously on some kind of tour. As they moved off, I went through the arch in the stone wall that they had come out of.
Akershus Fortress was begun in the 13th century, to protect the country and Oslo. It sits on a rock outcrop beside the harbour.
I walked around some, up a path that went over another stone wall,. And through a stone arch.
A path doubled back to the top of the wall over the arch, where there were cannons, and one of the royal guards. The path was blocked off, so I didn't go up there.
But there was a path around the side through another arch, to a grassy area overlooking the city.
Back the other way was a raised area. On top were more cannons and a wonderful view of the harbour, and a sheer drop down the stone wall to the street below. It must have been thirty metres. The view I assumed to be wonderful, as it was mostly blocked by one bloody huge cruise ship.
Back down from this, another archway lead into the inner court yard. There was a doorway to a gift shop and the start of a tour through the castle.
There was also a blocked off tunnel, I guess you could call it. Very dark and spooky. There's a ghost story with it too. Some 18th century caretaker woke to a huge crash on night to be told that this passage had collapsed. He went down into it, against the protestations from servants, and was savaged by a large vicious dog dragging a broken heavy chain. He never recovered from his injuries and died some days later.
Anyway, I took the tour. It starts in what was the original kitchen, and then a short stairway goes up to the sheriff's office.
From there is a long narrow passage and stairway that leads to the dungeon. This passage parallels the spooky one from the courtyard, now that I think of it. The walls here are up to three metres thick.
Then it crosses to the royal crypt where only one king and queen lie. Also the prince and his wife are beside them. Across from this room are two other graves, but they contain only the skulls of three rulers.
Up some more stairs and I was in a church. It's actually still a working church, used by the military, which explains the army chaplain who was talking with a young couple. They do weddings, funerals and baptisms for military personnel.
After that, I went into dark rooms, and I don't remember exactly the order of things. I think the next place was what is left of the massive main tower, that was called the Dare Devil. The main reception room as it's modernly used for but was originally a store room. No, that came later.
In the upper rooms there were great banquet halls. All are still in use and are serviced by a modern and well equipped kitchen, but it hasn't been used since the king's wedding in 2001.
The last big room, which expands dining capacity to well over three hundred people, was originally the maiden's quarters. It's one big room where they did everything. There are four alcoves in the wall, over a metre deep, so these are seriously thick walls. There would have been cannons in them originally, so the ladies would have had to work around them.
Upstairs is another huge room with a high oak beam roof. It was struck by lightning once and burned, then reconstructed. A huge rose window on the south end contains some stained glass. The centre of it and some smaller parts were blown out by a huge explosion in the harbour in World War II. Some very small parts of the window show depictions of some strange and terrifying creatures.
Ghosts abound in this place. The keeper who was mauled by the monstrous dog, a pair of duelists who replay their duel in the high windows of the dining hall. One story that really stuck with me is of a girl who is sometimes found to be wandering in a corner of the maiden's quarters. When confronted, she will turn to face her confronter, who discovers she has no face, only a blank gauzy surface where here face should be. After that she evaporates into thin air.
After the tour, I went back to the hotel and crashed for about half an hour.
From the hotel, I walked back toward the harbour again, and discovered a huge white marble and glass building. The Oslo Opera house is a sloping white marble surface that rises out of the water to quite a height, then in the middle, a glass walled part rises from that, and the marvel surface sloes upward from the back to the front of this again.
People can walk all over this surface. Up at the glass wall, you can look down on the huge lobby below. There are steps and ridges and troughs here and there. Sometimes the marble is cut smooth in these, but mostly it's pretty rough. It would still be slippery in the rain.
From there, I walked along the harbour until I found myself by that monster cruise ship beside akershus. Past that, a tall ship that was being loaded with provisions, bucket brigade style, a World War II era fully restored wooden mine sweeper, and then several masted and powered boats. One of them was actually a bar, so I stopped for a pint.
It hit hard since I hadn't had lunch. From there, I found a bank machine, and then wandered to the far side of the harbour to Aker Brygge, a huge harbourside complex of shops and restaurants.
I chose one with a sunny patio and had a bite, then wandered back toward Karl Johan, and back to the hotel, where I now sit.
I'm tired and hungry. I'll probably go for dinner in a little while, but for now, I need to cool my feet.
Something I didn't discover until today, is that Monday is a national holiday. All the hotels along Karl Johan are putting up Norwegian flags and banners, and a huge parade is planned.
In my hotel's atrium, there is now a massive flag hanging from the skylight, nine stories above the restaurant. At a guess, it's about ten metres by twenty five metres.
It looks to be clouding over, and the wind is coming up.
There is so much older architecture int this town. It's very beautiful, and there are domes and clocks everywhere.
The last big room, which expands dining capacity to well over three hundred people, was originally the maiden's quarters. It's one big room where they did everything. There are four alcoves in the wall, over a metre deep, so these are seriously thick walls. There would have been cannons in them originally, so the ladies would have had to work around them.
Upstairs is another huge room with a high oak beam roof. It was struck by lightning once and burned, then reconstructed. A huge rose window on the south end contains some stained glass. The centre of it and some smaller parts were blown out by a huge explosion in the harbour in World War II. Some very small parts of the window show depictions of some strange and terrifying creatures.
Ghosts abound in this place. The keeper who was mauled by the monstrous dog, a pair of duelists who replay their duel in the high windows of the dining hall. One story that really stuck with me is of a girl who is sometimes found to be wandering in a corner of the maiden's quarters. When confronted, she will turn to face her confronter, who discovers she has no face, only a blank gauzy surface where here face should be. After that she evaporates into thin air.
After the tour, I went back to the hotel and crashed for about half an hour.
From the hotel, I walked back toward the harbour again, and discovered a huge white marble and glass building. The Oslo Opera house is a sloping white marble surface that rises out of the water to quite a height, then in the middle, a glass walled part rises from that, and the marvel surface sloes upward from the back to the front of this again.
People can walk all over this surface. Up at the glass wall, you can look down on the huge lobby below. There are steps and ridges and troughs here and there. Sometimes the marble is cut smooth in these, but mostly it's pretty rough. It would still be slippery in the rain.
From there, I walked along the harbour until I found myself by that monster cruise ship beside akershus. Past that, a tall ship that was being loaded with provisions, bucket brigade style, a World War II era fully restored wooden mine sweeper, and then several masted and powered boats. One of them was actually a bar, so I stopped for a pint.
It hit hard since I hadn't had lunch. From there, I found a bank machine, and then wandered to the far side of the harbour to Aker Brygge, a huge harbourside complex of shops and restaurants.
I chose one with a sunny patio and had a bite, then wandered back toward Karl Johan, and back to the hotel, where I now sit.
I'm tired and hungry. I'll probably go for dinner in a little while, but for now, I need to cool my feet.
Something I didn't discover until today, is that Monday is a national holiday. All the hotels along Karl Johan are putting up Norwegian flags and banners, and a huge parade is planned.
In my hotel's atrium, there is now a massive flag hanging from the skylight, nine stories above the restaurant. At a guess, it's about ten metres by twenty five metres.
It looks to be clouding over, and the wind is coming up.
There is so much older architecture int this town. It's very beautiful, and there are domes and clocks everywhere.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Norway Day 2 - Arriving
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 13, 2010, 9:20 am
Aboard KLM 678
I am on Amsterdam time now and somewhere over Scotland. They've just turned on the lights.
After the snacks, I watched a movie. Highly recommended - The Blind Side. In the middle of that was dinner, which was pretty decent. And then they turned out the lights.
According to the flight tracker thing, the movie got me from somewhere north of Saskatoon to the very tip of northern Quebec.
When they turned out the lights they also asked everyone to pull down the window shades. We never quite crossed the Arctic Circle, but we were close, so it never really got all the way dark.
I did try to sleep for those five hours or so, and I think I succeeded a little.
Oh! One nice touch are the hot wet towels. I got the first one just after that first snack. And the other one just now, after a glass of orange juice. The juice was perfect and the towel was timely.
We're just south of Aberdeen, with about 650 kilometres to go.
I'm glad I got to sleep a little bit. It's going to be a long day regardless. But I'm beginning to feel a little pumped
May 13, 2010, 11:35 am
Schipol Airport, Amsterdam
OK, if you buy a bottle of water here, you either drink it in the airport or on the plane. No bringing open bottles on the plane. In fact, if you want to take it on, they seal it in a bag for you at the store.
Another trip up was that the Starbucks in the airport here is one of those not-really-a-Starbucks, in that they don't take the Starbucks card, so I had to pay cash.
Anyway, back on the plane, once I opened the window screen, there was nothing to see but cloud. There wasn't a lot of cloud over the North Sea, but it's all grey water.
Forty minutes before we touched down, we got breakfast. And not at all rushed. That was kind of nice.
And then we descended through a lot of cloud until we were quite low, probably less than a thousand feet before I could see anything.
So now it's grey and overcast, but not raining. This part of Schipol is no different from Calgary, except in Calgary, all the 737s sport the WestJet livery. Here there are all kinds of paint jobs. From here I can see KLM, Continental, Finnair, and a couple I don't recognize. Also, they aren't all 737s, although that seems to be the dominant short haul critter.
MartinAir, never heard of that one before. Looks like an A330. This place must be a haven for plane spotters.
Whoops, what I thought was Continental is actually Augsburg Airways. They were just pushed back.
I'll need to go for a walk soon. When people get close to the end of the moving sidewalk, a voice tells them to "mind your step." It's repetitive and monotonous, and getting on my nerves. Plus I want to know what airlines those two planes belong to.
May 13, 2010, 12:10 pm
Schipol Airport, Amsterdam
Alitalia and Air Malta. And there is a SwissAir one too.
It's true! A beer tastes much better in its home country. Heineken is not my favourite at home, but this is quite good. Mind you, it's on tap and not in those horrid green bottles.
I'm sitting at the Constellation Bar in the C wing of Schipol. I'm guessing by the dozens of pictures of Lockheed Constellations with KLM livery that it's named for that. The height of luxury air travel sixty years ago.
When I walked down this way an hour ago, it was deserted. Now it's pretty hopping.
Oh yeah! I got my first stamp in my passport. That was kind of cool. I wasn't expecting to talk to any customs person cuz I'm not leaving the airport. But I guess it's because I crossed continental boundaries?
There goes an Air France 737. Boeing must have build thousands of those things.
Air Astana - another one new to me.
One thing that stands out here are the number of duty free shops. At least I think they are duty free. Each one is a specialty store - perfumes, liquor, clothing - and they're huge!
Another thing is the number of perfume shops. A couple of big stores in the middle, but there are also a few little kiosk places. It's actually kinda stinky in the main concourse from those big shops.
And yet another thing. I am surrounded by unknown (to me) languages. Seems like everyone on this continent is multi-lingual.
It's noon here, actually 12:30. I just realized it's 4:30 am at home. I'm really glad I managed to sleep a little on the way over.
Wow, just looking around. This place is suddenly full of people. And my plane to Oslo is just pulling up to the gate. I still have and hour and a half before it leaves again.
All this hub-bub, and still there is that "mind your step" over and over and over.
May 13, 2010, 2:40 pm
Aboard KLM 1147
A little bit of a late start, but we're above the cloud deck now. I think we drove to Copenhagen first though. Seriously, Schipol is one big airport; the taxiing was endless.
We sat at the gate after boarding. I don't know what was up with that. So the toddler behind me got a little restless, slamming the window shade up and down until she caught her fingers in it. Once she calmed down over that, she slammed the tray up and down, and kicked heck out of my seat, all the while screaming at her mom. Luckily, she calmed right down as we were pushed back, and there was only one brief outburst while we taxied.
It's a pretty full load here. There seems to be some high school girls group taking up the middle of the plane.
It's an older 737, and there are no seat-back TVs so we don't get the flight tracker. I have no idea where we are now.
An interesting variation on the safety demo - how to put on the life vest located under the seat. I imagine we're over water right now.
May 13, 2010, 3:15 pm
Aboard KLM 1147
We are definitely over open water. There are dozens of boats down there. They passed out a surprisingly good sandwich that I scarfed down while watching all the boats slide by. It's quite beautiful.
But now we're over cloud again. It looks like a layer of mold I once saw on fruit juice. Slightly off white and scummy along the edge of it.
Oh boy, cookies! Or a cookie. "Stroopkoekje" - very tasty.
There are breaks in the cloud, and more boats.
I dozed off just before push back, and I think that little five minute powernap was just what I needed.
May 13, 2010, 9:20 am
Aboard KLM 678
I am on Amsterdam time now and somewhere over Scotland. They've just turned on the lights.
After the snacks, I watched a movie. Highly recommended - The Blind Side. In the middle of that was dinner, which was pretty decent. And then they turned out the lights.
According to the flight tracker thing, the movie got me from somewhere north of Saskatoon to the very tip of northern Quebec.
When they turned out the lights they also asked everyone to pull down the window shades. We never quite crossed the Arctic Circle, but we were close, so it never really got all the way dark.
I did try to sleep for those five hours or so, and I think I succeeded a little.
Oh! One nice touch are the hot wet towels. I got the first one just after that first snack. And the other one just now, after a glass of orange juice. The juice was perfect and the towel was timely.
We're just south of Aberdeen, with about 650 kilometres to go.
I'm glad I got to sleep a little bit. It's going to be a long day regardless. But I'm beginning to feel a little pumped
May 13, 2010, 11:35 am
Schipol Airport, Amsterdam
OK, if you buy a bottle of water here, you either drink it in the airport or on the plane. No bringing open bottles on the plane. In fact, if you want to take it on, they seal it in a bag for you at the store.
Another trip up was that the Starbucks in the airport here is one of those not-really-a-Starbucks, in that they don't take the Starbucks card, so I had to pay cash.
Anyway, back on the plane, once I opened the window screen, there was nothing to see but cloud. There wasn't a lot of cloud over the North Sea, but it's all grey water.
Forty minutes before we touched down, we got breakfast. And not at all rushed. That was kind of nice.
And then we descended through a lot of cloud until we were quite low, probably less than a thousand feet before I could see anything.
So now it's grey and overcast, but not raining. This part of Schipol is no different from Calgary, except in Calgary, all the 737s sport the WestJet livery. Here there are all kinds of paint jobs. From here I can see KLM, Continental, Finnair, and a couple I don't recognize. Also, they aren't all 737s, although that seems to be the dominant short haul critter.
MartinAir, never heard of that one before. Looks like an A330. This place must be a haven for plane spotters.
Whoops, what I thought was Continental is actually Augsburg Airways. They were just pushed back.
I'll need to go for a walk soon. When people get close to the end of the moving sidewalk, a voice tells them to "mind your step." It's repetitive and monotonous, and getting on my nerves. Plus I want to know what airlines those two planes belong to.
May 13, 2010, 12:10 pm
Schipol Airport, Amsterdam
Alitalia and Air Malta. And there is a SwissAir one too.
It's true! A beer tastes much better in its home country. Heineken is not my favourite at home, but this is quite good. Mind you, it's on tap and not in those horrid green bottles.
I'm sitting at the Constellation Bar in the C wing of Schipol. I'm guessing by the dozens of pictures of Lockheed Constellations with KLM livery that it's named for that. The height of luxury air travel sixty years ago.
When I walked down this way an hour ago, it was deserted. Now it's pretty hopping.
Oh yeah! I got my first stamp in my passport. That was kind of cool. I wasn't expecting to talk to any customs person cuz I'm not leaving the airport. But I guess it's because I crossed continental boundaries?
There goes an Air France 737. Boeing must have build thousands of those things.
Air Astana - another one new to me.
One thing that stands out here are the number of duty free shops. At least I think they are duty free. Each one is a specialty store - perfumes, liquor, clothing - and they're huge!
Another thing is the number of perfume shops. A couple of big stores in the middle, but there are also a few little kiosk places. It's actually kinda stinky in the main concourse from those big shops.
And yet another thing. I am surrounded by unknown (to me) languages. Seems like everyone on this continent is multi-lingual.
It's noon here, actually 12:30. I just realized it's 4:30 am at home. I'm really glad I managed to sleep a little on the way over.
Wow, just looking around. This place is suddenly full of people. And my plane to Oslo is just pulling up to the gate. I still have and hour and a half before it leaves again.
All this hub-bub, and still there is that "mind your step" over and over and over.
May 13, 2010, 2:40 pm
Aboard KLM 1147
A little bit of a late start, but we're above the cloud deck now. I think we drove to Copenhagen first though. Seriously, Schipol is one big airport; the taxiing was endless.
We sat at the gate after boarding. I don't know what was up with that. So the toddler behind me got a little restless, slamming the window shade up and down until she caught her fingers in it. Once she calmed down over that, she slammed the tray up and down, and kicked heck out of my seat, all the while screaming at her mom. Luckily, she calmed right down as we were pushed back, and there was only one brief outburst while we taxied.
It's a pretty full load here. There seems to be some high school girls group taking up the middle of the plane.
It's an older 737, and there are no seat-back TVs so we don't get the flight tracker. I have no idea where we are now.
An interesting variation on the safety demo - how to put on the life vest located under the seat. I imagine we're over water right now.
May 13, 2010, 3:15 pm
Aboard KLM 1147
We are definitely over open water. There are dozens of boats down there. They passed out a surprisingly good sandwich that I scarfed down while watching all the boats slide by. It's quite beautiful.
But now we're over cloud again. It looks like a layer of mold I once saw on fruit juice. Slightly off white and scummy along the edge of it.
Oh boy, cookies! Or a cookie. "Stroopkoekje" - very tasty.
There are breaks in the cloud, and more boats.
I dozed off just before push back, and I think that little five minute powernap was just what I needed.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Norway Day 1 - Starting Out
This is an after-the-fact transcription of the journal I kept on a two week trip to Norway.
May 12, 2010, 1:55 pm
Calgary Airport
I'm here way too early and I'm a bundle of nerves. The KLM desk doesn't open until 2:05. And I feel like a total dweeb with this backpack.
Bonus! Some guy with a backpack just went by, so I'm not the only one. However, I don't have the camo pants and shaved head.
One nice thing is that people are starting to accumulate in the area.
One bad thing is that both pens I brought to write with are running dry already.
May 12, 2010, 2:30 pm
Calgary Airport
I'm still all nerves. Jeez, I wish I could settle a bit.
But I got a pair of fresh Bics so I can write again. And by the time I got them, used the washroom and got back out front, the desks were open for KLM.
Nice to be first in line; I was through the check in pretty quick.
I's nerve wracking too, because I keep feeling I've forgotten something. Yet so far, so good.
Anyway, I presented by passport and boarding pass to the guy at the sliding doors (to the security check area) then walked the zigzag of those poles with the tapes between them.They did open them up after the first zigzag so I could walk straight through.
Pulled out the ziploc bag with contact solution and toothpaste, empty pockets, take off shoes, etc. Walk through the gate. Whoops, forgot to take off the belt, but they didn't say anything.
Now I'm sitting in a bar/lounge/restaurant, and have just finished a plate of chicken wings. I wasn't feeling very hungry but thought if I ate something my stomach would settle. The beer probably helps.
It's a sunny beautiful day out. From hear I can see planes taxiing, planes taking off. I haven't seen any land yet. At least some have come up this way and parked.
In front of me right now is probably an A330 with Lufthansa livery. All the service vehicles have left. There was a crowd sitting around that gate when I walked by so I suppose they aren't that far from push back. I can't make out the registration number because the wing is in the way, or I'd write it down.
There's a WestJet 737 just taxiing up and some odd looking T-tail just floating in to land. Now something else, the engines mounted on the sides off fuselage, just reached rotation and lifted.
And behind it all, the downtown skyline.
A Delta 737 just backed out and is beginning to taxi. I've taken pictures!
I knew this would happen. Once I get past the initial nervousness, I knew I would settle down.
Now I wait for awhile. Three hours to go!
That Lufthansa is an A340. I didn't see the second engine on the wing until it was pushed out.
May 12, 2010, 4:00 pm
Calgary Airport
It was an A340-300 called the Gottingen. Just before it was pushed back, my plane arrived, about half an hour ago. It's called Plaza de la Independence - Madrid. Where I'm sitting right now, I'm about twenty metres from the nose. of it.
The afternoon is going by quite quickly thankfully. Waiting....waiting....
May 12, 2010, 5:40 pm
Aboard KLM 678
There's still twenty five minutes to get off the ground, but I'm finally aboard. Announcements are being made in German and English.
They are telling us to stay in our seats until after take off since there is lots of room if people want to find another seat, I guess. Maybe my neighbour will move another seat so he can stretch out.
I grabbed a copy of the international edition of the New York Times, and I'm going to sit and try and relax for take off.
May 12, 2010, 6:30 pm
Aboard KLM 678
I'm now a half hour into the flight and so far it's pretty ho-hum. I like hearing the German announcements, different from the usual French that we get on the domestic flights.
There are a few good movies. I'll watch The Blind Side later. But mostly, I like the flight tracking. We're just crossing into Saskatchewan now. I like that you can control that, too.
I got the window seat, but it turned out to be directly over the wing root. Some view. If I lean forward, I can see some of the ground past the back edge of the wing.
Here come the snacks...
May 12, 2010, 1:55 pm
Calgary Airport
I'm here way too early and I'm a bundle of nerves. The KLM desk doesn't open until 2:05. And I feel like a total dweeb with this backpack.
Bonus! Some guy with a backpack just went by, so I'm not the only one. However, I don't have the camo pants and shaved head.
One nice thing is that people are starting to accumulate in the area.
One bad thing is that both pens I brought to write with are running dry already.
May 12, 2010, 2:30 pm
Calgary Airport
I'm still all nerves. Jeez, I wish I could settle a bit.
But I got a pair of fresh Bics so I can write again. And by the time I got them, used the washroom and got back out front, the desks were open for KLM.
Nice to be first in line; I was through the check in pretty quick.
I's nerve wracking too, because I keep feeling I've forgotten something. Yet so far, so good.
Anyway, I presented by passport and boarding pass to the guy at the sliding doors (to the security check area) then walked the zigzag of those poles with the tapes between them.They did open them up after the first zigzag so I could walk straight through.
Pulled out the ziploc bag with contact solution and toothpaste, empty pockets, take off shoes, etc. Walk through the gate. Whoops, forgot to take off the belt, but they didn't say anything.
Now I'm sitting in a bar/lounge/restaurant, and have just finished a plate of chicken wings. I wasn't feeling very hungry but thought if I ate something my stomach would settle. The beer probably helps.
It's a sunny beautiful day out. From hear I can see planes taxiing, planes taking off. I haven't seen any land yet. At least some have come up this way and parked.
In front of me right now is probably an A330 with Lufthansa livery. All the service vehicles have left. There was a crowd sitting around that gate when I walked by so I suppose they aren't that far from push back. I can't make out the registration number because the wing is in the way, or I'd write it down.
There's a WestJet 737 just taxiing up and some odd looking T-tail just floating in to land. Now something else, the engines mounted on the sides off fuselage, just reached rotation and lifted.
And behind it all, the downtown skyline.
A Delta 737 just backed out and is beginning to taxi. I've taken pictures!
I knew this would happen. Once I get past the initial nervousness, I knew I would settle down.
Now I wait for awhile. Three hours to go!
That Lufthansa is an A340. I didn't see the second engine on the wing until it was pushed out.
May 12, 2010, 4:00 pm
Calgary Airport
It was an A340-300 called the Gottingen. Just before it was pushed back, my plane arrived, about half an hour ago. It's called Plaza de la Independence - Madrid. Where I'm sitting right now, I'm about twenty metres from the nose. of it.
The afternoon is going by quite quickly thankfully. Waiting....waiting....
May 12, 2010, 5:40 pm
Aboard KLM 678
There's still twenty five minutes to get off the ground, but I'm finally aboard. Announcements are being made in German and English.
They are telling us to stay in our seats until after take off since there is lots of room if people want to find another seat, I guess. Maybe my neighbour will move another seat so he can stretch out.
I grabbed a copy of the international edition of the New York Times, and I'm going to sit and try and relax for take off.
May 12, 2010, 6:30 pm
Aboard KLM 678
I'm now a half hour into the flight and so far it's pretty ho-hum. I like hearing the German announcements, different from the usual French that we get on the domestic flights.
There are a few good movies. I'll watch The Blind Side later. But mostly, I like the flight tracking. We're just crossing into Saskatchewan now. I like that you can control that, too.
I got the window seat, but it turned out to be directly over the wing root. Some view. If I lean forward, I can see some of the ground past the back edge of the wing.
Here come the snacks...
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Un-Stalled!
Well, it was easy to get un-stalled, since last night's class was inside, on a heated pool. Pool Rescue night!
I, naturally, was first to arrive. I drove through the wind and rain, to the university and parked in the big parkade. 7 bucks! Sheesh!
I had sort of an idea where I was going. The online map was pretty clear, but it also didn't have any of the myriad of construction sites marked on it. I found myself walking across gravel and past barriers, around temporary fences. The front door to the Aquatic Centre was reachable through a narrow path between the wall of one of the gyms, and the fencing. Evidence of lots of digging.
There was an information desk, where I asked where I needed to go. Then through the locker room where I stopped to strip down to swimming trunks and stuff my clothes into my backback. I walked out onto the pool deck, where a girl in a short lifeguard chair directed me to the corner where a kayak and associated paraphernalia waited.
As usual, I was first. I waited, and eventually eight more people showed up, virtually all at once. They seemed to know each other, and also were couples. I was the odd guy.
The instructor arrived and handed out release forms. After those were all signed, he walked us all the parts of a kayak. Then he demonstrated the steps to take to perform a self rescue, flopping around rather comically on the pool deck.
He lead us around the scuba class that had claimed the deep end, to a pile of personal flotation devices (PFDs), spray skirts, paddle floats and of course, kayaks. We chose the most fashionable bits, then carried the ten needed kayaks to the shallow end and put them on the ledge just under the water.
I dressed up, as did everyone else. I tried to get the spray skirt up high enough, and tight enough to stay put, and then got the PFD on and zipped. I pulled all the straps tight, and settled into a kayak. I chose one that had a loose rudder peddle, that slid around in the cockpit under my legs.
We all kind of floated out into the middle of the pool, and the instructor leaned over, and went under as his kayak capsized. And then he walked through the steps of the self rescue again, making it look ridiculously easy. Oh, to be young again.
I wondered at the needed upper body strength, and decided I had enough to pull it off. The couples paired off and spread out. I watched a few roll into the water and come up beside their capsized kayaks. And then I took a deep breath and leaned to the right.
The damn paddle was in the way, but I grabbed the side of the cockpit and began to run my hands along the edge of the spray skirt, fondling my way to the oh-shit handle. I found it flopping in the water, feeling a naked edge of the plastic cockpit. I found that I never had to pull that handle, as it always popped off on its own once I was upside down.
I came up against the kayak, reached behind my head to push it out of the way, only slightly panicky. Once my face cleared the surface I snorted and a nose full of water threatened to invade my lungs. Furious hacking and coughing ensued.
Once I was able to breath again, I heaved the kayak upright, and threaded my arm under a bungee cord. I pulled the paddle float from another bungee and managed to stuff the end of the paddle into it, and clip the short strap to keep it from slipping off.
OK, I should confess. We were in the shallow end, and for my first self rescue, I was standing in chest deep water, concentrating on getting through all the steps.
Once the paddle float was secured, I stuffed the other end under the bungees as we were shown. And then it was simply a matter of gripping the paddle and the edge of the cockpit, jumping up and laying across the kayak. It was about this point that it struck me that I might not always get to do this in five feet of water.
Anyway, I slipped my legged into the cockpit, and gingerly turned around, so that I could sit upright. Another realization at this point was that that turning around should happen toward the side where the paddle. I had turned the other way, and the paddle float slapped the water several times until I got stable.
I had narrowly missed displaying what the instructor charmingly called the red flag of death, where the kayak rolled away from the paddle and upside down again. As I settled into the seat and gingerly pulled the spray skirt out from under myself, rocking precariously while doing so, I noticed a couple of those red flags, as the paddle floats arced over a capsizing kayak.
Sitting for a minute to catch my breath, I then leaned the left this time, to ensure I could be ambidextrous in self rescues.
Then it was time to try an assisted rescue. The instructor had a volunteer help him out in showing the steps of righting the kayak, and bracing it so the other person can climb in. And then we tried it ourselves.
Of course, being the odd guy, I got to do it with the instructor, enduring the catcalls on my incompetence at trying to get close to his capsized kayak. I finally got to the bow of his upsidedown kayak, and told him to push down on the other end. The bow popped up surprisingly high, and I was easily able to pull it across my kayak.
When the cockpit was in my lap, essentially, I heaved the kayak upright and pushed it back in the water. More awkward maneuvering as I tried to get along side it, bow to stern, as required. I was a little apprehensive about bracing it, worried about inadequate upper body strength, but it was surprisingly easy to lean across his kayak and brace, while he heaved himself up and into the cockpit.
Then it was my turn. I took a deep breath and leaned again. I don't think my sinuses will ever acclimate to chlorinated pool water. I came up sputtering as usual, and then went through the steps.
After the first self rescue, I made a conscious effort not to use the floor of the pool, using only kicking and pulling to propel myself up on top of the kayak. At first it wasn't too bad, though I had to fight a tendency for my feet to come up in front of me so I would be floating on my back.
The assisted rescue went very smoothly; again I had to be aware of which way to turn as I got upright.
After that, I continued to flop over left and right, and practice self rescues, while the instructor worked with the couples. Flop hesitantly, I might add. I'm not keen to be under water, under a kayak. My nose fills with water and stings my eyes. And I soon developed a sinus headache. But I kept flopping over and repeating the steps.
At one point we got to raft up. That's when we all get side by side and hold on to each other's kayak, while the instructor explained why we would want to do that. We're much more stable holding on to each other like that, so can ride out some rough swells. And apparently, if we're all in one group like that, the orcas will come closer as they only have one big obstacle to avoid, instead of a bunch of little ones. Something to keep in mind if I manage to get on one of the trips to the west coast that they organize throughout the summer.
The self rescues started to become harder and harder to do. Adequate upper body strength I had for one or two, but a dozen was too taxing. We were eventually chased out of the pool by another group, and so gathered up the equipment to pile it in a soggy pile, and lean the kayaks against the wall inverted.
The instructor went through a few more things, and then we retired to the locker rooms to dress and head home through the wind and rain and snow.
L n K
I, naturally, was first to arrive. I drove through the wind and rain, to the university and parked in the big parkade. 7 bucks! Sheesh!
I had sort of an idea where I was going. The online map was pretty clear, but it also didn't have any of the myriad of construction sites marked on it. I found myself walking across gravel and past barriers, around temporary fences. The front door to the Aquatic Centre was reachable through a narrow path between the wall of one of the gyms, and the fencing. Evidence of lots of digging.
There was an information desk, where I asked where I needed to go. Then through the locker room where I stopped to strip down to swimming trunks and stuff my clothes into my backback. I walked out onto the pool deck, where a girl in a short lifeguard chair directed me to the corner where a kayak and associated paraphernalia waited.
As usual, I was first. I waited, and eventually eight more people showed up, virtually all at once. They seemed to know each other, and also were couples. I was the odd guy.
The instructor arrived and handed out release forms. After those were all signed, he walked us all the parts of a kayak. Then he demonstrated the steps to take to perform a self rescue, flopping around rather comically on the pool deck.
He lead us around the scuba class that had claimed the deep end, to a pile of personal flotation devices (PFDs), spray skirts, paddle floats and of course, kayaks. We chose the most fashionable bits, then carried the ten needed kayaks to the shallow end and put them on the ledge just under the water.
I dressed up, as did everyone else. I tried to get the spray skirt up high enough, and tight enough to stay put, and then got the PFD on and zipped. I pulled all the straps tight, and settled into a kayak. I chose one that had a loose rudder peddle, that slid around in the cockpit under my legs.
We all kind of floated out into the middle of the pool, and the instructor leaned over, and went under as his kayak capsized. And then he walked through the steps of the self rescue again, making it look ridiculously easy. Oh, to be young again.
I wondered at the needed upper body strength, and decided I had enough to pull it off. The couples paired off and spread out. I watched a few roll into the water and come up beside their capsized kayaks. And then I took a deep breath and leaned to the right.
The damn paddle was in the way, but I grabbed the side of the cockpit and began to run my hands along the edge of the spray skirt, fondling my way to the oh-shit handle. I found it flopping in the water, feeling a naked edge of the plastic cockpit. I found that I never had to pull that handle, as it always popped off on its own once I was upside down.
I came up against the kayak, reached behind my head to push it out of the way, only slightly panicky. Once my face cleared the surface I snorted and a nose full of water threatened to invade my lungs. Furious hacking and coughing ensued.
Once I was able to breath again, I heaved the kayak upright, and threaded my arm under a bungee cord. I pulled the paddle float from another bungee and managed to stuff the end of the paddle into it, and clip the short strap to keep it from slipping off.
OK, I should confess. We were in the shallow end, and for my first self rescue, I was standing in chest deep water, concentrating on getting through all the steps.
Once the paddle float was secured, I stuffed the other end under the bungees as we were shown. And then it was simply a matter of gripping the paddle and the edge of the cockpit, jumping up and laying across the kayak. It was about this point that it struck me that I might not always get to do this in five feet of water.
Anyway, I slipped my legged into the cockpit, and gingerly turned around, so that I could sit upright. Another realization at this point was that that turning around should happen toward the side where the paddle. I had turned the other way, and the paddle float slapped the water several times until I got stable.
I had narrowly missed displaying what the instructor charmingly called the red flag of death, where the kayak rolled away from the paddle and upside down again. As I settled into the seat and gingerly pulled the spray skirt out from under myself, rocking precariously while doing so, I noticed a couple of those red flags, as the paddle floats arced over a capsizing kayak.
Sitting for a minute to catch my breath, I then leaned the left this time, to ensure I could be ambidextrous in self rescues.
Then it was time to try an assisted rescue. The instructor had a volunteer help him out in showing the steps of righting the kayak, and bracing it so the other person can climb in. And then we tried it ourselves.
Of course, being the odd guy, I got to do it with the instructor, enduring the catcalls on my incompetence at trying to get close to his capsized kayak. I finally got to the bow of his upsidedown kayak, and told him to push down on the other end. The bow popped up surprisingly high, and I was easily able to pull it across my kayak.
When the cockpit was in my lap, essentially, I heaved the kayak upright and pushed it back in the water. More awkward maneuvering as I tried to get along side it, bow to stern, as required. I was a little apprehensive about bracing it, worried about inadequate upper body strength, but it was surprisingly easy to lean across his kayak and brace, while he heaved himself up and into the cockpit.
Then it was my turn. I took a deep breath and leaned again. I don't think my sinuses will ever acclimate to chlorinated pool water. I came up sputtering as usual, and then went through the steps.
After the first self rescue, I made a conscious effort not to use the floor of the pool, using only kicking and pulling to propel myself up on top of the kayak. At first it wasn't too bad, though I had to fight a tendency for my feet to come up in front of me so I would be floating on my back.
The assisted rescue went very smoothly; again I had to be aware of which way to turn as I got upright.
After that, I continued to flop over left and right, and practice self rescues, while the instructor worked with the couples. Flop hesitantly, I might add. I'm not keen to be under water, under a kayak. My nose fills with water and stings my eyes. And I soon developed a sinus headache. But I kept flopping over and repeating the steps.
At one point we got to raft up. That's when we all get side by side and hold on to each other's kayak, while the instructor explained why we would want to do that. We're much more stable holding on to each other like that, so can ride out some rough swells. And apparently, if we're all in one group like that, the orcas will come closer as they only have one big obstacle to avoid, instead of a bunch of little ones. Something to keep in mind if I manage to get on one of the trips to the west coast that they organize throughout the summer.
The self rescues started to become harder and harder to do. Adequate upper body strength I had for one or two, but a dozen was too taxing. We were eventually chased out of the pool by another group, and so gathered up the equipment to pile it in a soggy pile, and lean the kayaks against the wall inverted.
The instructor went through a few more things, and then we retired to the locker rooms to dress and head home through the wind and rain and snow.
L n K
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Something Different, But Stalled
I was about to start a new adventure today, but the weather got in the way.
Last summer I had a chance to try kayaking, while visiting Vancouver Island. It was only a short three hours along the south shore of Port San Juan, but was a fabulous tour. There was only a barely perceptible swell, and while the skies were the usual west coast grey, there was no rain and the fog banks across the sound gave the whole morning a kind of intimate solitude.
After that experience, and having encountered someone with an enthusiasm for kayaking, I want to check it out some more, so I signed up for some kayaking classes with the Calgary Outdoor Centre. This morning was to be an introductory paddle on the Glenmore Reservoir, but alas, the weather of the past week has stamped Canceled on the outing.
It's frustrating because it has turned out to be a marvelous morning, a little cool, but there is only some light, high cloud, no wind, and the view of the mountains is crystal clear. It's not going to be the warmest day, but the forecast high of 10C is quite tolerable. 48 hours ago, when the decision was made to cancel, it was in the middle of a nasty spring snowstorm, and the forecast high for today was something like 5C.
I guess they have to have a cut off point somewhere, and 48 hours must be reasonable to decide and have time to notify all who have signed up for it. Still, it would have been a wonderful morning.
L n K
Last summer I had a chance to try kayaking, while visiting Vancouver Island. It was only a short three hours along the south shore of Port San Juan, but was a fabulous tour. There was only a barely perceptible swell, and while the skies were the usual west coast grey, there was no rain and the fog banks across the sound gave the whole morning a kind of intimate solitude.
After that experience, and having encountered someone with an enthusiasm for kayaking, I want to check it out some more, so I signed up for some kayaking classes with the Calgary Outdoor Centre. This morning was to be an introductory paddle on the Glenmore Reservoir, but alas, the weather of the past week has stamped Canceled on the outing.
It's frustrating because it has turned out to be a marvelous morning, a little cool, but there is only some light, high cloud, no wind, and the view of the mountains is crystal clear. It's not going to be the warmest day, but the forecast high of 10C is quite tolerable. 48 hours ago, when the decision was made to cancel, it was in the middle of a nasty spring snowstorm, and the forecast high for today was something like 5C.
I guess they have to have a cut off point somewhere, and 48 hours must be reasonable to decide and have time to notify all who have signed up for it. Still, it would have been a wonderful morning.
L n K
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