Remembrance of Things Past

When the rare summer sun comes out, so does everyone else!
I ate at the cafe seen on the right.

Flight over in business class was nice. Good food, plenty of space in my own little pod, could make the bed lie flat and turn on my side. Only about 90 minutes sleep, but still. Tight connection in Heathrow turned into five hours, boring but not unpleasant as plenty of places to sit and toilets and restaurants. Sadly, when I finally got to Norway I spent 90 minutes standing in line for immigration. I was never so happy to get to my hotel room and relax! 

 

This development behind me is known as “Barcode”.
 It’s very controversial architecturally, and
Even used as a punchline in the movie 
“The Worst Person in the World”
Which I watched as part of my trip prep

But I was in Norway and I had to go out. The weather was spectacular, and everyone was out. I walked for a bit, and then had fish soup and a beer at an outside cafe. I dipped my bread into the little container of a yellow substance I thought had butter, but it was mayonnaise. In a flash, I was back to being twelve years old and on my first trip to Norway with my family. On my plate next to my fish was served a heap of yellow stuff they told me was mayonnaise. I thought I hated mayonnaise, but my mother (in the voice all parents use) said “just try it”. It was fabulous - rich in a way I had never experienced. And here was the same fabulous, eggy, rich substance! So the bread got dipped in the mayo and then the fish soup and it was terrific! In a similar vein, in the 1990s my brother and I went to Provence together. I don’t remember the year, but I remember it was February. It was always sunny, but often a bit cold. We drove down to a small town on the Mediterranean coast and I ordered fish soup in an outdoor cafe along the harbor. It was served with little toasts, and a tub of something the menu said was “aioli”. I spread it on the toast, dipped it in the soup, and it was the best thing I had ever eaten in my life! The same rich, eggy, substance, but infused with garlic instead of the faint pickle-y vinegar of the Norwegian version. 

Impossible to capture, and fabulous weather!

I left Oslo the next day. I took a spectacular, five hour train trip up and over the mountains of Norway to Bergen. I was glued to the window the whole way, couldn’t tear my eyes away to read my book. Forewarned by online reviews, I stopped in the station before boarding and bought a sandwich for the trip. On impulse, driven by a tantalizing smell at the cash register, I suddenly dredged up my childish Norwegian vocabulary to order a “varme polser” for breakfast. (It’s a Norwegian hotdog-like sausage, ubiquitous.) I surprised myself, as I wished the server “tusand tak”. (Literally, thousand thanks). 

Ice cream!

Bergen also had fabulous weather when I arrived, so I had the afternoon to walk about, eat ice cream, and have incredibly good grilled fish kebabs at the outdoor fish market. So far on the this trip, I’ve pretty much only spoken to the service people. This afternoon my friends arrive and we’ll do a big dinner. My solo time is coming to an end. Tomorrow, we board the ship.

The Brygge 

We’re staying at a hotel chosen by the tour company, and it’s in the greatest location. There is a preserved old wharf along the harbor, dating to the 15th century. My mother’s family originates here in Bergen, so it’s always resonated with me. When I was very small, my mother painted a picture of this wharf, and it now hangs over my dining room table. I have many photos of family members standing here, so of course I did a selfie. But I’ll get a member of our group to take a better one, to become part of the series.