(10:05 a.m. PDT, 7:05 p.m in Oslo)
We’ve entered the “smell test” part of our trip, a phenomenon no doubt familiar to most people who’ve lived out of a suitcase overseas for any length of time. You’ve been traveling for x days, and you’ve brought clothing sufficient to cover x - y days. It’s the “Should I wear this [insert item of clothing here] again?” dilemma, followed immediately by holding it up to your face and smelling it. There are two possible results that can result from this highly (un)scientific test:
You discover that the item of clothing in question is in fact not smelling intolerably human and is thus ready for another day of duty, or
The smell test reminds you of a junior high school locker room, and you acknowledge the reality that another day’s wear would be an affront to human decency and hygiene…unless you feel comfortable asking those around you to remain downwind for their own safety.
If you’re like a lot of travelers (or Erin and me in this scenario), you don’t have access to laundry facilities…or what access you do have is so ridiculously challenging you decide it’s not worth the trouble. Then you have to decide if you’re going to resort to hand-washing clothing in the kitchen sink or bathtub. I once spent a month stuck in a hotel room in Zagreb, Croatia, during the war there. There were no laundry facilities, so I hand-washed everything- sweaters, jeans, underwear, socks- in the bathtub and hung it to dry on anything available. I often wondered what the hotel cleaning staff must have thought when the came into my room to clean and found wet underwear on radiators, lamps, chairs, headboards, etc. I suspect they thought I was some sort of pervert, but with no other option available, I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about that.
One of my little quirks is that at home I would NEVER wear a shirt or pair of pants more than once. For some reason, when I’m traveling I have no problem breaking what at home is a hard and fast rule. I wore the same pair of jeans in Reykjavik for four days; they passed the smell test and they didn’t stand up and walk away under their own power. Go figure.
We’re heading home to Portland in three days, so I’m hoping the underwear supply holds out. I haven’t had to do much handwashing, and the smell tests have thankfully been positive. By the time we head home, I’ll no doubt be done to my last pair of underwear. Still, in my sick, twisted way, it’s one of the best parts of the trip. I pile all of my dirty laundry into one suitcase…and I hope and pray that it’s the one selected by TSA for inspection. Yeah, it’s kinda sick to wish ill upon someone poor government drone simply doing their job…but it’s my little way to protest security theater. Yeah, I know; it’s a bit passive-aggressive. So sue me.
In more interesting and hygienic news, today Erin and I went to what most refer to as Vigeland Sculpture Park, but what is actually known as Frogner Park. Most tourists go to see the Vigeland installation, which covers 80 acres and features 212 bronze and granite sculptures created by Gustav Vigeland between 1920 and his death in 1943. It’s probably the place I most wanted see in Oslo, and it certainly didn’t disappoint. Even in the rain, it’s a beautiful and incredibly impressive installation. There’s simply no way one or even a few photos could possibly do the installation justice, but if you ever come to Oslo, it’s a must-see. Trust me on this one.
The city of Oslo has made a significant commitment to public art, and so almost everywhere you go there’s some sort of art, whether in a park or along a street or intersection. Oslo isn’t really a city I’d describe as beautiful (though neither is it ugly), but it’s an older European city with some areas that show there age. Like any city, there are nicer, more aesthetically pleasing areas, but the public art goes a long way toward helping to make Oslo more visually interesting and vibrant. One of the things I’ve learned to appreciate about Norway is that they appreciate their creative types in a way Americans don’t.
Last night, we went to the Theatercaféen, which came highly recommended by a close friend. It’s in the Hotel Continental near the National Theater), and, as one might imagine in a place that opened in 1900, it’s filled with history. Vidkun Quisling drafted a letter proposing a Nazi-supported government after Germany invaded Norway in 1940. I wonder if he sat at our table? Theatercaféen is also on the New York Times list of world-famous Vienna-style restaurants. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants in a city known as the most expensive in the world, but I’d highly recommened it. The food, alcohol, and service are all top-flight.
We decided to walk from our apartment, which is about three kilometers. Unfortunately, we discovered after setting off that we’d forgotten our map. Oslo is not a city like Portland, where streets cross at right angles and addresses follow some sort of logic. We wandered in what felt like the right direction, and eventually found it- almost in spite of ourselves. We turned a three-kilometer walk into probably closer to five, but it was definitely worth it, especially when we discovered that there’s a tram stop less than a block away and one of the lines would drop us a block from our apartment.
Who said traveling isn’t an adventure??
