Thursday, October 18, 2007Today Michael and I flew to Oslo, Norway for the weekend. We flew using RyanAir, and before continuing with details of the trip, I feel I should explain RyanAir as an airline company: RyanAir is known for its super-cheap flights. It’s true. We managed to get a flight there for 0.01€ and a flight at the same price back. Yes, you understood correctly, a return flight to Norway for two people cost us a total of 4 cents! Actually, if I’m going to do the conversion into Canadian dollars, then it’s about 6 cents—that’s 6 cents BEFORE taxes. That’s how RyanAir gets you. It starts out cheap, but for every extra thing, they charge the heck out of you. Booking with a Visa card? Pay more. Checking-in in person? Pay more. Want to check luggage? Pay more. Want to check overweight luggage? Pay a lot more. With taxes, a return flight cost us a total of 32€. For a flight to Norway, that’s still an amazing price, but it’s quite different than 2 cents.
We also had to pay to take a bus from Aix to the Marseille airport. Poor Michael, he actually had to pay that twice because he left his passport at his place and had to go back to get it. I met Michael in the International Office when we were both dealing with some of the incredibly annoying apply-to-get-the-rest-of-your-visa-so-you-can-stay-in-the-country stuff. He’s from New York, but goes to school in Chicago. While he went back to get his passport, I took our stuff and went to go check in at the airport. Good thing we decided to go early! Buy the time Michael had made the trip back, gotten his passport, and then hopped back on the 30-minute bus ride to the airport, we still made it on time. I’m pretty lucky I didn’t have any bottles of liquid over 100ml in my backpack—they were throwing all of that out. I think I’ve finally learned to “travel lightly”. I had with me my backpack, and in it, I had my sleeping bag (which took up two thirds of the space), and squished down the side, two t-shirts, soap, deodorant, a facecloth, my toothbrush, a mini toothpaste and a spoon. (I thought about taking a fork and knife, but didn’t think the airport security would like that very much.) I also decided at the last minute to bring my laptop with us so that we could find a place to stay. We had spent two hours the night before looking up every hostel within a 100km radius of Oslo and it seemed as though they were ALL BOOKED. But alas, our flight was reserved, so we hopped on the plane, and flew into the unknown.
I thought there was a mistake when I saw that there was no seat number written on my boarding pass. But when Michael didn’t have a seat number either, I thought it was quite strange. When they announced the gate number, and people started rushing to get there, I began to see what was going on. It was as bad as a bunch of elementary school kids trying to get in line first to get to sit at the back of the bus. With RyanAir, you PICK YOUR SEAT! It was quite the gong-show. Somehow Michael and I managed to get three seats for the two of us and had a fairly comfortable 3-hour flight.
Another way that RyanAir can make you pay more money is by flying into an airport almost two hours outside of the city, and making you pay to take a shuttle to the downtown area. That’s what they did for us this time. We flew into Torp, Norway, and took a 15€ shuttle to Oslo. Once we were there, it was about 10pm. Thank heavens I had taken my sweatshirt and my winter coat that, up to this point, had been sitting in its vacuum-sealed bag in my closet. It was about 2 degrees—a big change from the 19-20 degree weather in Aix. A comforting thought was the fact that the city was not dead at all. It was actually buzzing. There were people bundled up in the most fashionable way all over the place, wandering the streets, going from bar to bar, or sitting at a restaurant on the heated patio with restaurant-supplied fleece blankets.
Our next mission: to eat and to find a place to stay for at least tonight. We would worry about tomorrow night tomorrow. We found a grocery store and this was our first realization that everything seemed to be a lot more expensive than usual. We were getting pretty hungry, so we bought some bread and some stuff to make sandwiches (the spoon came in handy). We found an empty food court in a closed mall and ate there while contemplating how to find a place to stay for the night.
We then spent the next two hours looking for a place to stay. We found a system to find the cheapest rooms: we would take turns walking into a hotel and asking for the cheapest single room. “Only for you, Miss?” “Yes, just me. (I’ll sneak my friend in later.)” First of all, if they had a room available, it was impressive. Most everything was booked solid for the weekend. And then if the price of the room was enough to make us faint, we would hint at that fact and ask if they knew of a place more suited to a student’s budget. Our standards were lowering (I need a bed → I need a couch → I need floor space → I just need somewhere indoors!), and we were beginning to see that we might need to shell out a lot more than we had planned to stay somewhere for the night. In one hotel that I was asking, I saw that there was a computer room just around the corner from the front desk. After asking the guy at the desk if he knew somewhere “better-suited” to students, I asked him if he’d let me use a computer for two minutes. You see, the night before when we realized that everything seemed to be full, I started sending out requests from this site that I had signed up for not too long ago. It’s called Couch-Surfing. The basic idea is that you offer your couch to couch-surfers coming to visit your city. What’s in it for you? Well, if the couch-surfers are good guests, they’ve probably brought you a gift from where they’re from, or maybe they’ll cook you a nice meal, or maybe take you out for dinner. It was pretty last-minute when I sent out the requests, and up until that time, I had checked online for replies a couple of times, but the only ones I had gotten were “sorry, I’m already hosting other couch-surfers” or “sorry, I’ll be out of town surfing someone else’s couch for the weekend.” So at about midnight, I’m asking in a hotel to use their computer to check one last time.
Success!! At 11:22pm, a guy named Ross had answered my request saying “sure, come on over” and giving us directions to his place. We walked to his place, and along the way, we met a couple of young Norwegians who saw us checking our map and asked us if we needed help to get somewhere. We had already figured it out, but walked along talking with them because they were headed in the same direction. We got to Ross’ place and a girl answered the door, “Hi! Couch surfers? Come on in. Ross is in the kitchen.” It was a massive apartment and we soon learned that there were seven people living in it. Ross, originally from the Cayman Islands, two girls from Sweden, a guy from Greece, a girl and a guy from Norway, and then a guy from Germany who was away for the weekend. There was also another couch-surfer already there; she was from Poland. The Polish girl slept in the extra bed, and Michael and I slept on the two couches in the living room. We talked in the kitchen for a while with a few of the roommates, and then, as it was about 2am, we hit the couches and slept peacefully, indoors, on a couch, until the morning.
Friday, October 19, 2007We woke up to the sun rising outside the giant window in Ross’ living room.
We looked up some information that I had compiled about things to do in Oslo, got ready, and headed out for the day. It was such a relief to know that we had a roof to sleep under again tonight. And yes, I believe that the two hours spent panicking about finding a place to stay the night before was to teach me a lesson about leaving those arrangements to the last minute. I’ll know for next time.
We walked through downtown and headed to the Museum of Contemporary Art (on of the free things to do in Oslo). On our way, we stopped to take a few random pictures:
"Zanda the nerdy Parliament tour guide" in front of the Norwegian Parliament (the free tours were only on Saturdays, so I made a mental note to come back the next day in time to take a tour).
Michael in front of the “Tiny Bottle Store”. I think that’s what it was called. The mannequins behind him are indeed wearing clothing with tiny bottles attached.
At the museum, we saw some pretty cool and interesting things. There was a soccer exhibition that I’m pretty sure I heard was also at the National Art Gallery in Ottawa. It was a soccer game taken from every angle.
They had one screen focused on Zidane the whole time, even when he was nowhere near the play, one screen with the same thing animated, one screen focused on the play, one screen with the possible options of the player with the ball, one screen focused on the coaches faces the whole time, and another screen with the security guards at the entrance to the stadium. It was a cool concept.
We also went into this tiny claustrophobic staircase that led into a weird metallic hallway with a blindingly bright light at the end of it. We’re not sure if this was actually part of an exhibit or not. In any case, it was kind of cool.
Other interesting things included the pantyhose art, and the stuffed animal Jesus on a cross. It was a little shocking. Be sure to look closely at the expression on the Jesus-bear’s face.
After the museum, we went to the Akershus Fortress and Castle. That was really beautiful. It was fall, and it was colourful (contrary to in Aix where all the leaves just fall dead off the trees). The fortress was overlooking the city of Oslo and also the Oslofjord. And even though it was really cold out, the weather was gorgeous.
That giant white structure you see in the top right-hand corner of the picture is the Holmenkollen Ski Jump – “The site of the 1952 Winter Olympics and Norway’s most visited tourist spot.” They have even turned it into a museum where they have displayed a 4000-year history of skiing and a collection of skis dating back to pre-Viking times. Sounds interesting, but it wasn’t at the top of our to-do list.
"Norway’s most important medieval monument – built around 1300. It’s used today for state occasions."
Oslo, Norway: Big, Blond, and Beautiful ...This was a common site in Oslo—beautiful, tall, blond (natural, of course) women who were stunningly dressed.
After attempting to scale down the fortress wall, and, half-way down, realizing that it became smooth and there were no longer any grips for my hands, I climbed back up and, with legs like jello, found the stairs like a normal person.
“The fortress walls are steep, be careful.” The angle of the picture doesn't show it, but there's a drop-off right behind me. That’s where my failed scaling attempt took place.
We continued on our way to the Aker Brygge, a renovated waterfront district. “Built on to the wharf houses that once lined the quay, it is one of the most impressive shopping and dining areas of Northern Europe”—they fail to mention that it’s also one of the most expensive. (Although, we were noticing that that was becoming quite the theme in Oslo.)
We quickly visited the Historical Museum, but didn’t have a lot of time because it was closing. And then walked up to the Royal Palace where their head of state, King Herald, lives. “Every year on May 17th (Constitution Day) marching bands, dancing children and at least half the population of Oslo parade past its balcony, waving to the Royal Family.”
You turn 180˙ around, and this is the monarch’s driveway turning right into Karl Johan Street—the main downtown street:
We stopped at a grocery store, picked up enough pasta, sauce, buns, and ice cream to feed the apartment and ourselves, and headed back to Ross’ place to start cooking and to rest our tired feet.
The rest of the night was spent talking with the people in the apartment. It was great, we ate food and talked about the expensive prices living (their apartment costs them about $3500/month!!!), and the high standard of living, and the language differences. I hadn’t even realized that there were not only two languages (Norwegian and English) being spoken in the house on a regular basis, but three! Swedish was also being spoken regularly. Apparently, Norwegians and Swedes speak a language so similar that they can speak to each other in their own language and be perfectly understood (with the exception of a few terms [i.e. “Beautiful girl” in Norwegian = “slut” in Swedish… or maybe it’s the other way around… but you get the point.]) On top of that, apparently 10% of Oslo is Swedish. During our conversations, two MORE couch-surfers from Spain showed up. On top of the six people in the apartment, there were the five couch-surfers and Ross' two daughters staying the night. Since Michael and I had arrived the night before, we got to claim the two couches for the night. It was so late by the time we stopped talking and thought about going out, that we decided we would head to our respective couches and wake up early in the morning to get a good start on the last half-day we had in Oslo.
Saturday, October 20, 2007 → Michael’s birthday!!
Our start to the morning was a bit later than planned. Somehow we didn’t end up waking up at the planned 8am, but at 10:30. We had some leftovers for breakfast, talked a bit with Ross, thanked him and his roommates for hosting us on such short notice, and then went on our way. We hopped on the back of the tram that took us to Vigelandsparken: a park full of over 180 sculptures by the Norwegian Gustav Vigeland. The centerpiece of it all is an “18-meter high, 470-ton monolith with 121 figures depicting the ‘cycle of life’.” There were definitely some interesting statues. I think I’m starting to understand why nudity and other things we North Americans would find shocking don’t tend to shock other European cultures: They’re exposed to it so often, and it’s not taboo.
After the park we rushed to the nearest tram station, hopped on, and arrived at the stop closest to the Parliament building. We ran up the street and to the entrance, only to be told that the visitor’s entrance was around the other side of the building! Where were the signs?! And once we got there, we had to push a button to talk with a security guard to find out that the tour was full and that the 1:00 tour was the last one of the day. I should have told him that we had come “ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA!” Needless to say, they didn’t “manage visitors’ expectations” very well. Then again, I have high standards.
While I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to take a tour of the Parliament (I later found out Norway is also a constitutional monarchy, and the Legislature is a unicameral one made up of 165 members. The Monarch officially appoints the prime minister), we took the extra hour and strolled the buzzing streets looking for some sort of souvenir that didn’t break the bank.
I have to say that of all the places I’ve been to, Oslo is the first city that hasn’t had twenty over-priced country or city-specific souvenir shops on its main street. I mean, since it was Oslo, every single shop was over-priced, but at least they weren’t selling tacky souvenirs. We only encountered one tacky souvenir shop and it cost about $80 for a bag of shiny rocks, $14 for a keychain, $12 for a pen, $20 for a miniature troll, $40 for a regular scarf that had “Norway” written on it in the corner, $20 for a plastic Viking hat, etc. However, the ridiculous prices didn’t deter us from taking the clichéd picture…
And, taking into account my mother’s words of wisdom and starting an international collection of things I come across on my travels, I did end up buying the cheapest most expensive knick-knack holder for my desk. I had decided on buying it before I asked the cashier what it said. What’s written on it only makes it funnier. On one side it says “Drink the beer before it goes flat.” And on the other side it says “Kiss the girl before she passes out.”
We decided we would actually spend a little money and go have a sit-down lunch before taking the bus to the airport. To give you an idea of some of the prices of this restaurant (which was apparently a family restaurant, and not really excessively fancy), a ham and cheese omelet was about $22. A cup of coffee with a muffin came to about $8 or $9. Some of the main courses were into the 250 kroner price range, meaning about $45. The cheapest thing on the menu was, oddly enough, the pizza buffet. We both went with that, and Michael decided the meal would be his birthday present from his parents courtesy of their credit card. (Thank you Michael’s parents!!) We grabbed the tiniest $4 McFlurries I had ever seen in my life and we headed to the bus station. We hopped on the airport shuttle at 4:30pm, headed back to the Oslo airport, played the “be-the-first-one-on-the-plane-to-pick-your-seat” game, flew back into Marseille, and took the bus that brought us to Aix at midnight. It was a pretty darn good weekend in Norway.
