(07:40 a.m. PDT, 4:40 p.m in Oslo)
The inclement weather promised us upon our arrival in Oslo has arrived, damp and windy if somewhat tardy. When combined with the reality that both Erin and I are tired, the rain and wind hasn’t exactly provided an incentive to go out into the world and explore. We spent the morning reading in our apartment, had lunch, and then ventured out into the gloaming. At some point, we figured we’d have to give in and see what we could see, so we donned the rain gear we brought for this trip and accepted that we were going to get wet…which we most certainly did. As it is at home, once you accept that you’re going to get wet, it’s actually not difficult to endure the damp chill. It is, after all, mid-September in Norway, no? We probably walked about 3-4 miles in the rain, stopped at a coffee shop, and I managed to get some good pictures. All in all, it’s been a nice day; we’re on our honeymoon, and, weather notwithstanding, it’s all good. We’re in Norway, we’re making our way around, and we’re having fun. Not a bad gig, eh?
As is true with most any trip, by the time I near the end of it, I’m looking forward to returning home and embracing the familiar. So it is with this trip, though I know both of us will be sad to leave. It hasn’t even been two weeks, and yet it feels like forever ago that we left Portland. Even Iceland seems like a distant memory, though we only left Reykjavik for Bergen a week ago today. My perception of time has taken a holiday; I no longer have an immediate grasp of what day of the week it is, and I had to think hard for a moment to recall that today’s Tuesday (It is…right??). Not that it really matters, of course; the only time I’ve needed to have a grasp of the day is when our travel arrangements have dictated. Other than that, a Sunday is like a Thursday…which has seemed identical to Tuesday. It’s a bit disorienting when you’re used to spending your life regulating your day to day existence by a calendar. Then again, I could get used to living like this. Perhaps we could find a deserted tropical island and while our life away in an admixture of sloth, relaxation, and margaritas?
(Vigeland Sculpture Installation at Frogner Park, Oslo, 9.13.15)
Even though we managed to get thoroughly soaked, it’s still fun trying to find our way around Oslo on foot. Much of central Oslo predates automobiles, and many of the streets are paved with cobblestones. Tiny streets combined with narrow sidewalks can make things a bit cozy, especially when the average Oslo resident will stop in their tracks to say hello to a friend or take a call on their cell phone. They’ll stand in the middle of the sidewalk as if they don’t have a care in the world…or thought for anyone else. It’s also difficult to know where to walk, because many Norwegians walk on the left side. Then there are those who walk four abreast and clearly have no thought for how it might impact anyone but themselves. Clearly, the sense of personal space and courtesy isn’t what’s customary in the U.S., and it took some getting used to. Of course, I’m not in the U.S., so it’s incumbent upon me to make any necessary change…like not being offended when someone walks toward you and practically knocks you off the sidewalk and into traffic.
Don’t even get me started on people with umbrellas. I could have easily lost an eye if I hadn’t been paying attention, because the people carrying umbrellas clearly can’t be bothered to take responsibility for the weapons they’re wielding.
Oslo is a city in which many, perhaps most, residents are used to living in small spaces, epecially in and near the city center. Perhaps this makes them immune to and skilled in maneuvering in tight spaces. It may also explain their seeming lack of concern for how their public behavior impacts those around them. Perhaps it’s just a defense mechanism, or maybe living in close quarters inures one to the boundaries and sense of personal space outsiders like me take for granted. Everything feels much tighter here, perhaps because those who live here are used to doing everything in close quarters. It all seems to work, but it would drive me nuts (or I’d adapt and become as thoughtless and dismissive as everyone else) if I had to live here. It’s not that people are rude- far from it- but neither do they much concern themselves with how their behavior effects those around them.
This is why I love traveling. It’s not about what I want or what I’m comfortable with; it’s about forcing myself out of my comfort zone, recognizing and adapting to a different reality. It’s taken some time, but I think I’m getting there…just in time to return home. With any luck, perhaps I’ll be able to apply some of the lessons I’ve learned when I’m back in familiar surroundings.
