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You have to admire it.
Sep. 30th, 2004 09:51 pmWhat?
Why, my devotion to my many reader. I say this since I'm sitting in an Internet café near the waterfront in Bergen, paying the princely sum of about a pount just to tell you all about the delights of Norway. Touching, no?
It's ten years since I was last here, but I see it with new eyes now, well-used as I am to Norway now, as opposed to a nervous, stumbling virgin to the country as I was last time I was here. I have happily and entirely in Norwegian negotiated the purchase of a pair of mules for shambling around the ship - I am under parental orders not to wear "those great clomping boots of yours all the time". Funny how you sometimes you can find a late-night shoeshop with a clearance sale on just when you need it. Alas, said parent is not yet fully up to speed on this whole C21 mobile telecommunications thing and it hasn't occurred to her to simply call me to tell me which hotel they've put her in. Ah well. Guess I'll take my copy of the latest Nemi comic to a convenient hostelry, then. (First time I've seen Sinfest in print, too. In Norwegian, too. Weird. And Lenore!)
One thing that occasionally does surprise me about the Norwegians, though, is their ability - or willingness - to live up to the guidebooks' clichés. First time in Oslo, the Book said "Norwegians usually to drink water with food, rather than alcohol."![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kjersti and I went to a restaurant - Chicken and Ketchup or something, I think - and I ordered her a glass of wine while she is away for a moment. On her return, she reacted with incredulity. Wine with food? How bizarre!
This time, I was warned that locals regard their residence in Bergen as much more important than that of Norway. And lo, the bus driver - I was the sole passenger, he was waiting for me - replied, when I commented that I'd been to Norway lots of times - "aah, but we're not in Norway - we're in Bergen!" Straight out of the book. Verbatim. I sit amazed.
I'm not used to this level of service. While he drove me back, telling me how Bergenites (or whatever they call themselves) were amused at London's reaction to the congestion charge - they've had one here since 1986 - he called every other hotel my tour company use to try to determine if they had a party from the tourist company my mum's travelling with. No joy, incidentally.
But hey, I get more beer this way...
Enough of this. The rivetting travel writing will come later. Assuming my plans to keep a diary hold, and that it's worth uploading...
Adjø!
Why, my devotion to my many reader. I say this since I'm sitting in an Internet café near the waterfront in Bergen, paying the princely sum of about a pount just to tell you all about the delights of Norway. Touching, no?
It's ten years since I was last here, but I see it with new eyes now, well-used as I am to Norway now, as opposed to a nervous, stumbling virgin to the country as I was last time I was here. I have happily and entirely in Norwegian negotiated the purchase of a pair of mules for shambling around the ship - I am under parental orders not to wear "those great clomping boots of yours all the time". Funny how you sometimes you can find a late-night shoeshop with a clearance sale on just when you need it. Alas, said parent is not yet fully up to speed on this whole C21 mobile telecommunications thing and it hasn't occurred to her to simply call me to tell me which hotel they've put her in. Ah well. Guess I'll take my copy of the latest Nemi comic to a convenient hostelry, then. (First time I've seen Sinfest in print, too. In Norwegian, too. Weird. And Lenore!)
One thing that occasionally does surprise me about the Norwegians, though, is their ability - or willingness - to live up to the guidebooks' clichés. First time in Oslo, the Book said "Norwegians usually to drink water with food, rather than alcohol."
kjersti and I went to a restaurant - Chicken and Ketchup or something, I think - and I ordered her a glass of wine while she is away for a moment. On her return, she reacted with incredulity. Wine with food? How bizarre!This time, I was warned that locals regard their residence in Bergen as much more important than that of Norway. And lo, the bus driver - I was the sole passenger, he was waiting for me - replied, when I commented that I'd been to Norway lots of times - "aah, but we're not in Norway - we're in Bergen!" Straight out of the book. Verbatim. I sit amazed.
I'm not used to this level of service. While he drove me back, telling me how Bergenites (or whatever they call themselves) were amused at London's reaction to the congestion charge - they've had one here since 1986 - he called every other hotel my tour company use to try to determine if they had a party from the tourist company my mum's travelling with. No joy, incidentally.
But hey, I get more beer this way...
Enough of this. The rivetting travel writing will come later. Assuming my plans to keep a diary hold, and that it's worth uploading...
Adjø!
