OSLO - NORWAY

29th May - 1st June 2012

Viooowe erv Urslur frurm oop the ski-jurmp

Hellerwe frurm Urslur. Very jolly place from what I have seen, even if you need to be a multi-billionaire to make the best of it. Arrived late evening at the Central Station and got a taxi to a hostel ( can't afford hotels here ) which took about 20 mins driving and cost the normal Norwegian taxi price equivalent of an air ticket to the Bahamas. I later discovered that I could have walked it in 5 minutes.

Left: The Royal Palace. Nice weather and did a bit of wandering the next day. The main street through central Oslo is Karl Johans Gate and leads from the railway station up to the Royal Palace, the home of King Harald and Queen Sonja. Looks like they've got the builders in doing the roof...unless it is meant to look like this.








Karl Johans Gate is a lively street with lots of bars, restaurants, posh shops and a rash of those 'human statues' which spring temporarily to life when you feed them a left-over ruble or yuan ( the banks won't change foreign coins of course ). Right: There was also this miserable looking female 'clown' who was not terribly impressed when I offered her my last remaining Peruvian nuevo sol. I later saw that the face is a mask and shared between several 'clowns'.










Left: A view up the northern part of Karl Johans Gate towards the Palace.




















Left: The grand statue outside the Palace, of whom it didn't say as far as I could see. Anyone knur?

Right: On the way back I met a band and soldiers marching up to the Palace, so I did a U-turn and followed them. This was to be the Changing of the Guard. The Norwegian Royal Guard wear these extraordinary looking bowler hats with black horses' tails hanging over the front. Must be somewhat irritating when the breeze blows it into your face. They are actually quite smart ( only quite, I hasten to add ). However, if you really want to see some spectacular drill ( on ice, would you believe ), go to 'HMKG 04 Norwegian Military Tattoo' on Youtube. Anyway this lot were not up to that standard.
They provided a reasonably amusing spectacle and attracted a crowd. Interestingly there were no barriers or police telling passers-by or spectators where they could go, or stand. You just had to show good manners and not get in the way, and people duly obliged. At some point a lady nonchalantly pushed her pram and led her other child across the parade area. The authorities here are remarkably relaxed about 'access' to these sort of occasions despite that lunatic blowing up their Parliament and massacring many children on the island north of Oslo last summer. I am impressed by that willingness, indeed determination, to continue unfazed and not impose draconian security measures after that horror-attack as would undoubtedly be the case in UK or America where the public would be strip-searched before being kept behind barriers 2 kilometres away. In America the equivalent place would, by now, be bristling with snipers, anti-aircraft batteries, hovering attack-helicopters and squads of rude and ruthless heavily armed guards.

The only people clearing the way for the band and guard were these five mounted police ( left ) who were well mannered and smiling. Their main purpose was to stop motorists from entering Karl Johans Gate at the wrong moment and running into the band.






Right: The guard was duly changed with good drill and minimum fuss. Each sentry box around the Palace was marched up to and the change-over smartly effected. They must get used to that horses' tail blowing into their faces because it did and they never flinched. It would drive me mad. I suppose it keeps the flys off.







Left: A guard in his box.
After the change-over the police mounted escort, band playing jolly tunes and old guard duly marched back down the street. It was a fun occasion and professionally carried out ( if not quite up to our Brigade of Guards standard of drill and turn-out ).

Right: The Norwegian parliament building, the Storting as its called, or National Assembly, or whatever, off Karl Johans Gate. This was where the nutter planted his car bomb ( ANFO ) last summer.












Left: A curious 'work of art' nearby














Right: The cathedral; again on Karl Johans Gate.

That afternoon, by quite an amazing coincidence, in the middle of a crowd near the railway station, I bumped into the Californian Vikings who were staying with a relative outside the city. They had come into town to do some shopping ( they must be loaded ). They told me that their 'host', a retired builder I think, has, since retiring 15 years ago, refused ever to come into Oslo because he doesn't like the fact that the city has become home to so many ethnic minorities. I must admit, there was quite a predominance of 'foreign' looking types of various hue and ethnicity hanging about the streets including many of what I took to be Romanian/Albanian beggar women who spend their days sitting on the ground on street corners and under street lamps, often with babies, holding out begging bowls. They seem to be kept clear of the smarter areas.




Left: A scene repeated in much of the street where I was staying. There were also some very evil looking men around who gave the impression of 'organising' these beggars. I suspect they are not of enormous benefit to the Norwegian economy or social scene. I was subsequently told that there is an ongoing and contentious political issue involving the many immigrants, a large proportion of whom are Romanian, coming into the city to beg and engage in other nefarious activities. Apparently they live rough in the parks. Reminds me of Dublin. They must make a lot of money begging to be able to exist in this city!

Has anyone heard of a someone called Justin Beiber? I hadn't until I wandered into the square by the railway station. Hundreds of teenage girls were gathered around a stage. Occasionally they would scream and rush off, only to come screaming back later. The Viking girls told me that this Justin Beiber is a current 'heart-throb' teenage pop star and was visiting Oslo. He was supposedly going to do some singing but in the meantime was popping up, or not, in various places up and down the city centre which caused these wild stampedes of squealing girls to go looking for him. The police were hopelessly trying to control them. Extraordinary and quite funny to watch it all as I sipped my small ( but astonishingly expensive ) beer at a nearby cafe. I have no idea when, where or even if Master Beiber ever showed up.
I arranged to meet up with the Viking girls at a cafe up near the Holmenkollen ski-jump for tea at 4.30pm. This eatery ( the Frognersteren Cafe ), according to the Viking mother, the ex-US Navy parachute rigger, who had been there several times before, is a renowned place for nosh, especially cakes and apple pie. I would go up there on the metro, the T-Bane, as it is the last stop on line 1 and I might be able to get up the notorious Holmenkollen ski-jump as well, i.e. killing four birds with one stone.

I underestimated the time it would take. The T-Bane stops at about a hundred stations between the centre and the other end, so I made it to the cafe late and no time to do ( see ) the ski-jump. I resisted the cakes ( I had promised myself to go on a diet after the Hurdigurdi cruise ) and took out a bank loan to buy another small beer. Right: The Californian Vikings; Alexandra, Anastasia ( the ex-US Navy rigger and model ) and Katrina after they had devoured their apple pie.






Left: I made it to the Holmenkollen ski-jump the next morning. It is, I think, the biggest ski-jump in the world. The old one was completely rebuilt in this modernistic style a few years ago.
There is also a 'skiing' museum here. It has some interesting old skis including a pair from 600AD. I learnt all about the differences between Nordic, Telemark and Alpine skiing, plus lots about cross-country skiing and ski jumping. There is also a whole gallery which features the late King Haaken V11 ( 1872 - 1957 ) and his Queen Maud. They were keen skiers and very popular with the public.


Right: Looking back up. I don't know what, if anything, would persuade me to ski down this. I have no ambition to emulate Eddy the Eagle. Anyway, there was 'noe snoe'.
They also had a 'simulator' which promised 'space- age technology to create a unique and realistic feeling' doing the ski jump and a downhill alpine race. I couldn't resist. It lasted five minutes and successfully created for me a very realistic feeling of being ill. I only just escaped without throwing up.
I had bought a 2 day 'Oslo Pass' which for 395 Krone ( £42 ) gives access to all city transport and most museums ( but not the ski simulator vomitorium ). I was determined to make good use of it and duly set off to visit some of the many museums. Several of the nautical ones ( Norway has an impressive nautical history ) are on Bygdoy on the other side of the bay. I duly took the 20 minute ferry to get there.

First to visit the Viking Ship museum which, unsurprisingly, exhibited three original Viking ships. They are all from about 800AD.
Left: The Oseburg ship which was a queen's barge for ceremonial occasions and in which she was buried. Powered by 30 rowers and/or a sail.









Right: Another, the Gokstad ship, was a sea going vessel of 32 oar-power plus sail. This one was again used as a burial ship for some high ranking Viking chief. The third vessel was in much worse condition and featured a wooden burial chamber on board.
They should have had them at the Queen's Jubilee Thames Pageant to remind us of a bit of good old-fashioned Viking raping and pillaging.
Many artefacts, tools, preserved fabrics, ceremonial sledges, wagons and other Viking impedimenta was also on display. Not bad.



Left: Norwegian sailors outside the Norwegian Maritime museum which features largely the expeditions of Fridtjof Nansen and Roald Amundsen, amongst several others. I hadn't realised that in 1895 Nansen deliberately took his ship, the specially constructed and reinforced Fram, into the Arctic pack-ice deliberately to become ice-bound for 6 years to prove the drift of Arctic ice and thereby to reach the North Pole. He, his crew and the ship, survived. I don't think he quite reached the Pole. What a way to spend 6 years of your life!
The entire ship, the Fram, is preserved intact and on display as the centre-piece. You can wander around inside it. No decent photos because it was rather dark inside. The various expeditions these brave explorers/scientists undertook are well photographed and documented and provide a fascinating history of mainly Arctic and Antarctic exploration. The Amundsen South Pole expedition is well photographed and displayed and includes quite a lot of Scott's stuff as well. A fascinating museum especially if you are interested in Arctic/Antarctic matters.

Then to the Kon-Tiki museum. Left: The original Kon-Tiki raft built from balsa wood and Thor Heyerdahl's conveyance to prove it was possible to sail and use ocean currents to go west from South America to the Polynesian Islands, which he did in 1947.









Right: Ra 2. Mr Heyerdahl also built two more boats, Ra and Ra 2, out of papyrus reeds to prove it was possible in early days to sail these basic craft using prevailing wind and currents to go west from Africa across the Atlantic. The first attempt in Ra failed because the reed boat disintegrated. The second, Ra 2, succeeded in reaching Barbados.
The Ra boats looked rather the same as the ones I travelled on at Lake Titicaca.





Left: A statue down on the quayside featuring a family of man, woman, boy and girl, all naked. What is the fascination of displaying naked humans in public spaces, especially in this part of the world where the last thing you want to be, out in the open air, is naked! Someone should give them some warm clothing.

Right: The opera house, near the central station, is a curious construction. It is possible to walk from ground level to the top of it all on the sloping roof.
Quite an impressive building. Can't speak for the actual operatic performances.









Left: As viewed from the opera house, a 'thing', a large 'work of art' floating in the harbour. It sparkled. Maybe it is supposed to represent a collapsing oil rig? Answers on a post-card please.










The following day I visited the Akershus Castle ( right ) overlooking the harbour. It dates from 1300 and contains state-rooms used by the Norge Government for official functions and banquets. It must also do smart weddings because preparations were being made for one later that afternoon.








Down in the dungeons is the Royal Mausoleum ( left ). The big white one contains King Haaken V11 and the smaller green one, his wife Queen Maud. There are more at the other end containing older deceased royals.









Right: The main Banquet Hall. Rodent in centre of the table. I think the chap on duty said they can seat 150.
I seemed to be the only tourist wandering around inside this castle. I was aiming to maximise use of my Oslo Pass. Not doing too badly so far I think.









Left: Looking up from the walls of the castle to the north. That ski-jump certainly dominates the view with the cathedral to the right.
I then went on a tour of the Resistance Museum in the castle grounds. This was recommended to me. It features the story of the Norwegian resistance movement from 9th April 1940 when the Germans invaded to the end of the war. Reasonably interesting and featured quite good photos, documents, reconstructions of battles and acts of sabotage, as you might expect. It played original recorded speeches given by Churchill, King Haaken V11 ( in exile in London ) and Quisling ( the Norwegian Nazi traitor ). Curiously, and I later learnt that this was done deliberately, the displays don't mention any of the Norwegian resistance heroes by name nor the stories of their gallant deeds. I was told that they didn't want to single out any particular people. Neither do they mention what happened to Mr Quisling. As it happened, he was tried after the war ended and shot just outside where the museum now stands. I would be surprised they didn't torture him beforehand. Educational.

Right: I met these two castle guards marching out. They appear not to have right arms. One presumes this is all part of the Norwegian military policy of job equality for the handicapped ( sorry, physically challenged ).










There were lots of bands playing around town, and very jolly the music was too. Left: This lot in the white jackets were mixed ( quite senior looking ) men and women. They all wore dozens of medals on their chests. I didn't find out what they had done to deserve them. There are lots of tall bollards on the pavements in this part of the city as there were just out of sight in front of the chap with the banner. I watched as they marched off, toot toot oompah oompah, and the front ranks negotiated the bollards successfully, unfortunately concealing them from those towards the rear playing tubas and french horns or similar, who then fell over them bringing down a selection of other 'instruments'. It was like the Foinavon fence in the Grand National all over again. The crashing, banging, yelling and occasional peep was impressive to behold. How I laughed! I nearly wet myself.


Of course there are the mandatory Oirish bears. Probably lots of them. In this one ( right ) I was informed that they were preparing to perform an Irish 'jamming session' whatever the heck that is. I didn't stay to find out.










Left: And as for these performers, I couldn't quite work out where they came from. They had the flutes and drums of the Andes style bands and enough feathered decoration about them to embarrass a flock of randy show-off peacocks. Wherever it was that they come from there is now probably a severe shortage of large birds!







Right: A tiger in front of the central railway station. It was often being 'ridden' by children and it's tail was a popular place to sit.
So, that was my visit to Oslo in a Nutshell. A decent enough city and likeable folk apart perhaps from the evil looking beggars and their gangs, but not the sort of place you can afford to stay too long.







I have just returned from my TSDM ( not part of my planned journey ). If anyone is remotely interested this pic is a clue of where I was. If you've been there you'll recognise it.

Onwards again. Another boat trip coming up I fear.
Must dash.