Part II: Impressions and Adventures
- Being in Norway.
We didn't want to leave!
We are each, in a large part, Scandinavian-American, so we’ve dreamed of taking a trip to Norway at least as long as we’ve dreamed of living in London. My first impression was somewhere along the lines of, “The weather here is a lot like Chicago’s, and the forests remind me of Wisconsin...No wonder my people ended up in the Midwest!” I enjoyed seeing rosemaling around, not as a fun cultural accent, but as a normal part of decor. Soren was thrilled when people would speak to him in Norwegian, as if he belonged. He was also grateful that they could switch to English when he told them he didn’t speak Norwegian.
- Being in Oslo.
Admiring the architecture.
I loved Oslo’s landscape–it drew my mind back to Cape Town, where you dwell in the warm embrace of the mountains and the sea, but the hills were further improved by endless swaths of evergreens. Soren fell in love with the city right away, delighted by the neoclassical buildings and their cheerful pastels that reminded him so much of St. Petersburg. - Discovering the Moka Pot.
The best.
Shortly before we left Chicago, Soren’s brother and his fiance invited us to help them settle the question, once and for all: What is the best way to make coffee? How do the espresso machine, the drip coffee maker, the French press, and the pourover stack up next to each other? The only real consensus was that the drip coffee maker loses big-time, but that was before we were introduced to this new contender. I’m sure we would have discovered it here in London eventually anyway, but the Moka Pot was our airbnb host’s coffee maker of choice, so that’s where we found it, and that’s where we fell in love with it. It seems that we’ll have to do a retest. Mmm, Moka Pot coffee. - Visiting the Norsk Folkemuseum.
A storehouse and guest space, all in one!
Our Norwegian and Danish ancestors came to the US fairly recently, since the turn of the 20th century. Therefore, I loved the opportunity to admire Norwegian farmhouses, storehouses, and barns (every village was some combination of these three) that were originally built in the 1700’s or the 1800’s. My great-great grandparents may well have lived in buildings that looked very much like them, topped with grass and heated by the fire in the center of the room, or later by the fireplace in the corner. When I see a stavkirke originally built in the 1300’s, I know that for centuries, some of my ancestors would have worshiped in such a place, where the eye is drawn ever upward. History is what I share with the people of Norway, whether I can truly lay claim to being “Norwegian” or not.
Note the dragon carving. But then, I can walk through an apartment building built in the 1890’s, and see how different people might have lived between its walls in the decades since, and know that I have cousins who may have lived there, too. I see how Norway has grown and changed since my dear ones left, and appreciate the beautiful, widening gap between my own experience and that of those who stayed. On that day, I was Norwegian, and I was American. There are other parts too, other heritage sites to explore, other stories to come alive, but this was a wonderful way to start.
- Spending a day in Vigeland Park and Frognerseteren.
Frognerseteren.
Every moment I spent in the city’s center, my eyes were drawn to the surrounding mountains and their verdant forests, and all I could think was, “Why aren’t we up there?” I was not made for the urban existence, believe it or not, and I have an insatiable craving for trees, or rather, to be surrounded by them. So, when holiday closures and expensive internet drove us to unearth a guidebook, my heart leapt when I found a cafe that looked to be surrounded by the forest and boasted an unparalleled view of the city, and then went on to discover that it was right at the end of a Metro line that also went by Vigeland Park, a famous destination that we’d been planning to go to anyway. With that discovery, our plan was set: We would take a walk through Vigeland, and then continue on to Frognerseteren.
Given that Vigeland is an outdoor gallery full of statues depicting domestic life “au naturel”, we didn’t have spectacularly high expectations. Thus, we were pleasantly surprised when we found ourselves taken in by the complex and beautiful web of familial relationships displayed in the sculpture series, with nurturing mothers, playful fathers, wrestling brothers, moments of discipline and tantrums, moments of affection hoped for or found… We enjoyed a hundred snapshots of the story of life and the relationships that make it full, and came away grateful for the fullness with which we’ve been blessed in our families.
Motherly love :)
From there, we took the Metro train up, up, up the hill, past Holmenkollbakken, the historic ski jumping hill, past many neighborhoods and a house with what was once a grass roof, but has since become a tree-sapling roof. At our stop, we disembarked and walked through the trees to emerge next to a traditional-looking Norwegian building. Inside, we decided to play it safe, given that we knew nothing about Norwegian food, and I had a superb quiche, while Soren had some delicious meatballs. We managed to grab an upstairs table next to a window overlooking the city, and marveled at the view, laughing, as we ate. When we were finished, we found a trailhead and hiked in the snow until Soren’s sister could join us. The aroma of the evergreens was completed by the scent of a recently burned campfire, and I was giddy to take even a short walk through the woods. [Soren interjects: Janel was practically running down these icy paths. I didn’t know I could be that worried…] Since we had enjoyed our lunches so much, we decided to stick around for dinner, and at Soren’s sister’s recommendation, I had rømmegrøt (a traditional Norwegian sour cream porridge) and Soren had a dish featuring Norwegian reindeer. All I can say about that meal after such a wonderful day is that if it had been possible, we may well have stayed at Frognerseteren forever.
Be careful!
- Our wonderful Norwegian hosts.
It’s great to see the tourist sites, but there’s always that nagging desire to get a taste of how the locals live. We had the amazing fortune to spend half of our time in Norway with a young family (the parents are similar in age to us, and have three little kids). Anticipating our first kiddo, we were eager to meet them and to get a picture of Norwegian family life. We were not disappointed. They were wonderfully welcoming and we picked up several useful tidbits about how to raise a Norwegian baby, like using bibs with sleeves and a lovely wooden high chair that adjusts as the baby grows! They also lovingly provided us with ample Brown cheese and reindeer sausages. ;)
Brunost: Brown Cheese.
- Paske!
Welcoming Spring While Easter (or Paske, as Norwegians call it) did make our touristing a bit difficult, we enjoyed the window our hosts provided into Paske traditions. In anticipation of the new leaves of Spring, one of these traditions is to hang painted eggshells on trees. We experienced this as a public children’s craft, drawing on paper eggs, but our hostess showed us how it’s really done with this dramatic display of gorgeously colored eggs. The other highlight of Paske was the Paske egg. This delectable chocolate egg is filled with marshmallow fluff that leaves you asking “Cadbury who?” We need to find an importer.
- Family.
Of course, our driving motivation and best times were chilling with my (Soren’s) sister. I hadn’t gotten the chance to spend much time with her since I left for university seven years ago, so it was fun to see how much she’s matured and come into her own. She gave us the “inside scoop” on all things Oslo and brought us to some of the more famous sites in the city (like the Royal Palace, the Akershus Fortress, and the Opera House) as well as some of her more local haunts in the Drammen area. Plus, she liked hanging with us so much, she came out to London just a few weeks later! What a gift!
Overlooking Drammen.
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