Archive | March 2009

Exploring Downtown Oslo

Mar1

Thursday, February 26, 2009
Oslo, Norway

Day One in Oslo–Breakfast at the Youth Hostel:
Because I had managed to get some reading done from my Norway DK Eye Eyewitness Guide en route to Stanstead airport, I decided that I would spend my first day in the City Center getting oriented. It seemed that the city was rather small and could easily be explored on foot. Attempting to avoid what I imagined would be the early-morning rush for the bathrooms down the hall, I decided to shower in the evening.

Dressing warmly, I went downstairs to the dining room for breakfast (included in the price of 22 Euros per night) and thought I was in a hotel. Truly, after the breakfasts I have consumed in other European youth hostels, this one appeared princely. There was a variety of cereals with milk or yogurt, a buffet bar with rolls, various types of sliced bread and the famous Scandinavian crisp bread and all sorts of jams and marmalades as well as a rather chunky and very delicious apple sauce. In the deli bar, there was cheese (Jarlsberg, of course, Norway’s gift to the world) ham, salami, liverwurst, coleslaw, fresh sliced tomatoes and cucumbers and a variety of fish dishes—in mustard sauce, tomato sauce and pickled with onions. There was also a variety of juices, tea and coffee—like I said, fit for a king. There was even a traditional brown cheese called geitost, served in a round block with a cheese knife. This is eaten at breakfast, very thinly sliced, and when I tasted some, I found this goat’s cheese sweet, sharply flavored and very delicious, especially when placed on the crisp bread and eaten with the tomatoes. I found myself crafting very creative open sandwiches each day for breakfast! Well, when in Oslo…..

Exploring Downtown Oslo:
Well fortified to face my day and having joined a group of women my age at their table—they were international academics from Brazil and Norway attending a conference in the hostel premises—I left to explore the city. Katya from Brazil joined me on the downhill trek to the tram stop which I boarded ten minutes later. It promised to be a beautiful day for the sun was just beginning to gild the snow draped hills and being warmly clad myself, I wasn’t in the least uncomfortable. One great thing about New England winters is that they teach you now to dress in layers and feel snug.

Oslo’s National Gallery:
Fifteen minutes later, I was at Karl Johans Gate which is the main artery that runs through the City Center. I headed first off to the National Gallery mainly to see The Scream by Edvard Munch, Norway’s best-known artist. Not only has this painting being stolen from this museum twice, but it has been, miraculously, recovered twice as well! One of the things that visiting the world’s museums has taught me is that no pictures in the world can prepare the viewer for the actual size of famous paintings and, time after time, I have been surprised at how small the real thing is when all I have seen were pictures. The Scream is small indeed but rather riveting. In the Munch Gallery, there was also his other famous work, Madonna—these two were held behind plexiglass shields.

A few rooms away, there was a special exhibition on his very personal work The Sick Child, based on his memories of his sister who lay dying of tuberculosis. There were various versions of this subject, painted over twenty years, the work getting more and more Expressionistic as he progressed. I was so fortunate to be able to see about eight version of it all gathered together in one room, as well as the definitive one which was the center piece of the exhibition. In addition to works by Munch, there were some wonderful Norwegian artists represented such as J.C. Dahl, Tilemund and Dude and some other canvases by Old Masters—After the Bath by Renoir was particularly lovely as was St. Peter by El Greco. Tilemund and Dude’s Norwegian Bridal Party on display in their museum has achieved iconic stature in the country as it comprises all the elements that best portray Norway—mountains, lakes and traditional rural people dressed in their colorful bunads. Best part of all was that this museum was free to the public and though there was almost no one when I first entered, a few tour groups did arrive later in the day.

The National History Museum:
Right next door to the National Gallery is the National History Museum—also free of charge. I entered it to find myself lost for the next hour as I took in some marvelous medieval art. There was the front portal of a traditional Stave Church—richly carved and in a fantastic state of preservation though dating to the 1100s. I did not appreciate it right away but, a few days later, after I saw and entered a real stave church on Bygdoy, I realized where exactly at the church door it would fit and I was then so taken by this piece.

A special exhibition on the Vikings taught me a great deal about these people who originated in Scandinavia. All I had known about the Vikings was that they were violent marauders who destroyed abbeys in Ireland. So I was pleasantly surprised to see the artistic streak they also possessed as evidenced in the silver-studded sword handles and the vast amount of metal jewelry (mainly brooches to hold their flowing garments in place) that they produced. In the Sami section, I saw a great deal of material on the ethnic people who thrive in the northernmost reaches of Norway and, as my school geography lessons had taught me, live in igloos, wear reindeer fur and travel on dog sleds. It was thoroughly enjoyable. Everywhere I went, I saw the museums filled with school groups on field trips, their teachers actually teaching them lessons in the galleries.

Karl Johans Gate:
Then I was out on the sunshine-washed streets of Oslo walking towards the Royal Palace called Slottet that sits on a hill overlooking the city’s main thoroughfare called Karl Johans Gate. The word ‘gate’ in Norwegian does not mean ‘gate’; it means ‘road’ and this one named after one of Norway’s most illustrious kings, Karl Johans, is its busiest. Groups of tourists were out by this time, slip sliding on the ice and throwing snowballs at each other. There were no guided tours of the interior in the winter but I did enjoy the exterior environs of the palace that are set in sprawling lawns open to the public—all thickly covered with crisp and spotlessly white blankets. The current monarchs were resident in the palace as was evident by the flag which flew from the flag mast.

I walked downhill towards the National Theater and paused to take pictures of the sculpture of Henrik Ibsen of whom Norway is so proud. The National Theater was actually putting on a production of his most famous play A Doll’s House together with Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Kazamarov. A few steps away, the grand Neo-Classical building of Oslo University lay ahead of me in its own square. The Aula is its most interesting feature—a room that is covered with murals by Munch–but since it was under renovation, it was closed to the public.

The Wonders of Radhuset:
Using my map, I found my way, a few blocks away, to Radhuset, the City Hall, and scene, each year, of the distribution of the Nobel Peace Prize. This extremely modern building built by Arnstein Arneberg and Magnus Poulsson, who won a competition to design it, dominates the cityscape by its unusual shape and conception. The exterior is only the beginning, however, as the inside of the building, covered with murals, sculptures in bas relief and almost floor-to-ceiling size paintings is breathtaking. The public can move freely from room to room including the Chamber where the Council meet to debate state affairs. Norway’s leading artists have painted each one with murals. Filled with traditional carved furniture, they are truly a delight to explore while the brilliance of the architecture is never very far from one’s mind.

Right outside the Radhusett is the Nobel Peace Center (which is open to visitors) but for lack of time, I decided to forego visiting it and proceeded towards Akker Brygge where I found a cozy corner in a McDonald’s overlooking Oslofjordden, for Oslo is indeed situated at the head of a fjord and the sun gleaming on the ice-filled waters was a lovely sight indeed. I spent almost an hour there watching the ferries come in and take off for the many islands that dot the fjord and admiring the sight of the turrets of nearby Akershus Slott (also closed in the winter), a castle and fortress that also contains the remains of some of Norway’s most prominent monarchs.

Christiana Torv and Oslo Domkirk:
Using my Guide Book, I then walked towards Christiana Torv (or Christiana Square) which is one of the oldest and best preserved of Oslo’s medieval squares. Indeed, I was so taken by the beautiful old structures that comprise the square that I braved traffic moving in slow circles around the ice and took many pictures.

Then, since most European capitals have at least one spectacular cathedral, I went in the direction of the Domkirk, only to find it completely shrouded in ugly scaffolding and completely closed. My book is rather old and doesn’t have up-to-the-minute information and had, therefore, failed to warn me of this. But I was glad to have seen the busy square around Kirkstein and since, by that point, I had walked a great deal and was tired, I hopped aboard the tram and returned to my room as I did not want to get back too late.

How delighted I was to find the hill leading to the hostel covered with tiny tots sledding and tobogganing on the slopes in the noisy company of their parents. Indeed, the Norwegians really do know how to enjoy the winter and make the most of its pleasures. As the sun was about to disappear behind the hills that surround the city, I decided to sit outside myself and watch it wave its magic wand upon the ice making the countryside seem as if asleep under a diamond encrusted comforter. It was pure magic and I was glad that I had not missed the beauty of winter completely this year but had caught some of its glory in Scandinavia.

Hullo Norway!

Mar1

Wednesday, February 25, 2009
London-Oslo

Never having been to Scandinavia, I was excited about my visit to Norway. And not having read too much about it until I was on the coach driving to Stanstead airport, I really did not know what to expect. I mean, there are a few aspects about it we all know: Land of the Midnight Sun, open face sandwiches, and those gorgeous Scandinavian blondes… As for the rest of it, I was blank. Which turned out to be a good thing because Norway was a revelation.

Departure:
I was glad my flight left from Stanstead at 10.30 am. Of course, this did mean waking up at 6.00 am, leaving my flat at 6. 45 am, and catching the Easybus coach at 7.30 am to arrive at Stanstead at 9.00. I gave myself an hour and a half for airport formalities—which left me ample time in the airport before the half-empty flight took off.I lucked out once again on this flight (as I had done on the one to Berlin), in that I found myself besides a companion who knew how to get from Torp airport to Oslo City Center. He, Simon Rees, made a very interesting travel companion as he works for the Mayor’s Office at City Hall, London, and since I have been a fan of Boris Johnson for a while now, I was pleased to chat with him about his special portfolio—advising the Mayor on the upcoming Olympics.

Just before we landed at Torp airport, after we had cleared the thick layer of clouds that had obscured the scene outside the window all across the North Sea, the sights of the fjords had me spell bound. For though there was no sun, there was enough light to be able to discern the outlines of scattered islands that lay under a thick frosting of ice. This famed coast line viewed from the air but best seen on summer boat cruises, was my first glimpse of the country, Norway—a country that revealed itself to me in new and exciting ways from day to day and left me enchanted.

It was Simon who led me to the bus stand at Torp airport and who chatted with me on the two-hour ride into Oslo. The first thing I realized as I stepped outside was that it was cold—much colder than the London I had left behind—and I was grateful for the warm cashmere clothing I had packed. We had a bit of a wait until the bus arrived, and by the time we boarded it, it was almost 2 pm local Oslo time (which is an hour ahead of London) and by the time we drew into the Oslo Central Station, it was almost 4 pm. IT would be another two hours before I arrived at my lodgings—so a whole day had been consumed by travel.

Nordic Country Landscapes:
It was plainly obvious that southern Norway had gone through a major recent snowstorm. Tall mounds of snow almost blinded me in their dazzling white garb. However, unlike London, it was also plain that the authorities were fully equipped to handle it for snow ploughs were everywhere and the sanding and salting of motorways leading out of the airport was superbly done. Once we arrived at the highway that led to Oslo, the landscape was so enchanting that each little vignette could make a Christmas card. Within seconds, I was reminded sharply of my own home in New England for there were so many similarities. For one thing, because both Norway and New England have an abundance of trees, all structures are made of wood (unlike the brick and stone that I so love in the United Kingdom). The siding of all homes were exactly the same was those in parts of New England in which the Pilgrims settled—indeed similar to my own Holly Berry House in Southport, Connecticut.

The three preferred colored of all dwellings are white, ochre and maroon, or as some would more fashionably say, burgundy. These little cottages were draped in white shrouds, their roofs thickly covered with snow. Most trees stood bare of foliage, their branches still wearing traces of freshly fallen snow while conifers stood in clumps draping the hillsides. Occasionally, we past vast spreads of snow white land masses which we soon realized were snow-covered lakes as the boat slips at the edges gave them away. I was taken back sharply to my coastal Connecticut winters as I watched the beauty of the Norwegian countryside slip by the window.

Arrival at my Hostel:
If there is one thing that did not work too well for me, it was the location of the Youth Hostel in Oslo on Haraldsheim. Though well served by bus, tram and metro lines, it is a good ten-minute walk from all these stops and, what is more, the trek involves a climb up a steep hillside, which is challenging at the best of times but was a trial in the snow. The path was not adequately sanded or de-iced and with the light fading fast, I was not exactly sure how to get there and had to ask for directions frequently.

That’s when I made the astonishing discovery that almost everyone in Oslo speaks very good English and is happy to help. When I finally arrived at the Youth Hostel, it was most 5. 30 pm and I was grateful to sink into a four-bedded female dorm. Now I have used youth hostels for enough years of my life to know that the biggest downside is the kind of companions with which one might be saddled. To my enormous good luck, I was all alone in my room for all four days which meant that my youth hostel fees were the best kroner I spent on the entire trip. For Norway is not a part of the EU and does not use Euros. I had changed 20 Euro at Stanstead airport before boarding the flight and with the hundred odd kroner in my bag, I felt confident as I disembarked from the aircraft—only to discover that the country is frightfully expensive (yes, far more expensive than the UK) and I was grateful I was able to use my credit card. I spent a quiet evening in my lovely room reading The Goblet of Fire and fell asleep at 9. 30 pm because the traveling had taken its toll on me and I was exhausted.