Hello strangers
The train from Oslo to Bergen was indeed beautiful, but it was also upwards of seven hours, most of this time spent in solitude, wondering at the nationality of the couple across from me. Sitting facing these people for so long, I still cannot ascertain knowledge as to what language they are speaking. Then, for some reason, (because I having not spoken to them or anyone else, they could not know which language I spoke) they ask me where I am from in an accent I do not recognize. [Note: you will not find a single conjunction in this entire blog, as I cannot find an apostrophe key] I tell them New York, and ask the same of them. Wales. ha. Anyway, they are very friendly and ask where I am staying, seeing as how it was rather late by this time and the information office was long closed. I tell them honestly that I do not know and they graciously offer to share their tent with me. Now, it should be noted that this sort of scenario is not new to me. For some reason–and it has been this was since I was 17 or so,couples in their almost 30s either just married or probably soon to be–love me. I have got my theories as to why this is, but will not expound upon them here, just suffice it to say when I meet a couple like this, I know they will almost immediately take a great shine and concern, sort of “we want to be your friend, but we are also suddenly filled with a feeling toward you that is very parental and protective” sort of thing. I do not mind. I enjoy all the care of an older relative or sibling, but with none of the repromanding that might accompany our subsequent behavior. In Norway, there is a rule that you can camp anywhere, so long as it is 300m from any houses. So we head towards a park we see on their map, but when we get there, find it is actually a militazy base, and probably not therefore appropriate for out camping upon. Then, it begins to rain. We seek shelter across the street under an awning that is possibly a loading dock. I learn they have just been to Spain for “cheap but good” wine and rum. So, with no where to go, and the weather being no condontinion to go in, we toast the night in leaky paper cups (made in the UK) and have a smashing good time sitting on the loading dock until 2am when the rain subsided and we checked into a hostel. I slept in quite a while and when I woke up, they were gone. Cést la vie. What was left of the next day I spent sightseeing around Bergen and met a Norweigian named Daniel, who was staying at the hostel because he had had a fight with his wife. An interesting character. Next, I was off to Hamburg for a day before finally arriving here, in Luxembourg. Luxembourg is a clean, green hilly machine. It is very small, which I suppose helps in keeping it so tidy. Tonight, I am overnighting it to Munich, to catch a day or so of Oktoberfest, though I doubt I will be able to find anywhere to stay, so will probably just move along to Switzerland where I have some business to take care of. But more on that later…
Tags: Travel
Blair
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