Circumspencing the Globe

Feeling invisible today.  Earlier, I was staring out the window of a cafe as passersby with dripping umbrellas strolled by on the wet cobblestone.  Soothing, rainy-day background music played.  I was alone at a counter, empty except for a plate and mug near my elbow, my crumpled napkin and some crumbs and alfalfa sprouts on the plate and foam remnants in the mug.  My head hurt from a late night at a pub.  No particular plans for the day.  A perfect day for a headache.  Charo (Cynthia) has left and my solitude has returned.  The solitude feels more acute, but I don’t dislike it. We had a full day together, traversing the main streets and back alleys of Bergen, visiting sites historic and modern, gazing at the waterfront from a bench and at the rooftops and distant fjords from the top of the funicular.  We found a restaurant popular with the locals and had codfish prepared by an Israeli chef.

We ran into Marius at the pub.  A girl accompanied him who introduced herself as his roommate.  They were staying at the hostel at the YMCA.  It’s fun to stay at the YMCA.  Unless, I learned, your roommate happened to be this particular girl.  She clung to Marius like a fitted bedsheet.  In an effort to liberate him, Charo concocted a story involving a bar table, Marius’ knee and the inexplicable need for him to hurry away with a feigned limp.  I felt bad for the Bedsheet.  She’s Malaysian and traveling alone, probably confronting more challenges than most solo travelers as an Easterner navigating the ways of the West.  She was dying to dance to the live Celtic music, so we took a whirl in front of the band and pint-clutching onlookers.  She knew Marius was evading her and took her leave after the dance.  Well into the next morning, Charo, Marius and I said our goodbyes.

The dynamic in the cafe of my solitude changed abruptly at one point.  Its population had consisted of a handful of parties and couples and me, each independent of the other.  But some eavesdropping led to the melding of two or three of the social fragments, resulting in a rise in the conversation volume and enthusiasm in the room.  But, with my back to it, I preferred to remain invisible.

 That was earlier today.  I’m now writing from a hotel computer.  I had meant to take the overnight train from Bergen to Oslo, but that train is not running today.  So I hopped on an earlier train, then regretted that decision, preferring to spend another night in Bergen rather than Oslo.  So I hopped off, and while waiting for the train back to Bergen I came into this hotel.

 Below are some shots from the last few day:  (1) me helping out a guard, (2) the bow of a 1,000-year-old viking ship, (3) from the train to Bergen, (4) from the train to Flåm, (5) from the fjord boat, (6) same, (7) same, (8) from the bus to Voss, (9) Charo, (10) successful fisherman, (11) around Bergen, (12) same, (13) same, (14) same, (15) same.

Tags: Bergen, fjord, Norway, Travel

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 22nd, 2007 at 1:10 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.