Haircuts of Fear
What you are looking at is the "before" shot. The hair is wet, so you can't see the full extent of the stack of rock 'n' roll hair I had. My hair had been growing since January. It was approaching the dreaded ponytail length, and I didn't want to end up that way. Besides, it was thirty degrees in Oslo, i.e. hot. I had been looking for a haircut free-of-charge, for some time, but had not found anyone to do it, here or during my trip to Ireland. But then I encountered this man! Let's call him Tore X. Known to me already, he asked me how my holiday in Ireland went. I replied that I had not found the free barber I was looking for. He instantly offered to cut my hair, which he did - on the street! - the following afternoon. I arrived on the scene in...
When North Went West (and Wesht)
What you are looking at here is a picture of a cat and a 3-year-old girl, taken from above. The cat is sitting in a wooden chair, and the girl is looking up, caught in the act of cat-worrying. What's this all about? Well, I was tired of feeling like a complete alien here in Norway and the time came for me to take a family of Norwegians west, to show them Ireland, the land of my origins. It is interesting to be a tourist in one's own land. With the presence of foreigners I could see anew Ireland's famed hospitality, its warmth and emotion. I am well aware that often what makes something good is the same thing that makes something bad, and in Ireland's case gregariousness and bothersomeness are two sides of the same coin, but on this occasion I only experienced the positive aspect, and I enjoyed...
One Year in Norway
So, one year in Norway. Has it lived up to my expectations or was I naïve? Is there really a reason why I’m living here, or am I just an aimless drifter who has ended up in an obscure outpost of old Europe? Everyone knows it’s cold and expensive in Norway, and it’s not famous for its cuisine, but if you think those things are off-putting then you probably don’t realize just how appealing life is here. You might glance at Norway and see a consumer society with advertising, rock music and carbonated soft drinks, so it seems like any other country in the generic 'West,' without having the manic buzz of London, New York or L.A. It may seem therefore somehow 'provincial' to the 'centres' of the 'West.' This is a very wrong-headed view, and there are good reasons why it’s favourable to live here. Norway is a haven...
Holmenkollen
More than one million people visit Holmenkollen Ski Museum every year, which is very brave of them because it's very high in the sky. I didn't look down as I ascended, but now that I am up here I can see how frightening it is. This is the scene from the top. I am in this kind of "observation deck" with tourists, looking down at Oslo and forest. This is the top of the tower from which champion skiers are supposed to descend. When there's snow, that is. I could go down the way I came, via these steep stairs. But I didn't look down when I was walking up, and to descend them I'd have to look down and I don't think I could keep my balance. The only other way is to ski down. As you can see, that is just as vertigo-inducing. It's 60m off the ground...
Devil Country
What a dubious place I live in! Did you know that John Milton associated Norway with Satan in Paradise Lost? When Satan is lying upon the Burning Lake, Milton compares him to a whale deceiving men into thinking it is an island: "...that Sea-beast Leviathan which God of all his works Created hugest that swim th'Ocean stream: Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam" (Book I lines 200-203) Milton here is only hinting at the shadiness, the very fishiness, of Norway. He gets much more explicit later on. He compares Satan's spear to a ship's mast made from "...the tallest pine, Hewn on Norwegian hills..." (Book I lines 292-3) In case there's any doubt that Norway here is just a simile or a metaphor for evil doings, Milton was sure to inform us that in the first revolt in Heaven, Satan drew his legions to "the Quarters of the North"...
Nesodden and after
I'm not exactly sure what happened to me. I was either ill, physically exhausted or mentally stressed out. Possibly all three. In any event, I experienced a kind of burn out, with a total loss of energy and a feeling of inability to cope with anything. Coincidentally, I was scheduled to take over a friend's cottage in Nesodden for five or six days, so it felt really good for my health to get on the boat, get out to the quiet countryside and collapse into bed. The cottage is pictured here with the woodshed in the foreground. Nesodden is in Akershus, a county next to Oslo. From the cottage and the garden I could see Oslo in the distance at the opposite side of the fjord. Although the city was visible, I was thankfully disconnected from everything there. The first thing I saw upon my arrival was a wild deer...
A National Day is a National Day
As an Irishman, my national day is St. Patrick's Day, 17 March, and it's a fairly unpleasant affair. Although the children of Ireland get to go out on the streets and watch colourful parades, the day swiftly descends into public displays of alcoholism and casual street violence. Then the next day, there's litter to be seen everywhere, and Ireland looks like a complete shithole. Norway's national day, Grunnlovsdagen ("Constitution Day") is on 17 May, and it was my first experience of it. How would it compare with the Irish experience, at street level? Norway's is the only national day in which parades consist exclusively of child participants. School bands march through the centre of town. I didn't venture out early to see such things, though. My day began at noon at a private frokost ("breakfast") at Sound of Mu, with a grand selection of food, and champagne. I wore a...
Disco
I was in a kebab shop buying a kebab (Marino's on Torrgata - Oslonians told me it was the only place in Oslo to buy a kebab) and the Turkish-looking guy serving started a conversation with me in Norwegian. "Fint vær," he said, about the blazing sunshine outside. ("Fine weather.") I replied, "Ja, men... jeg må arbeide..." ("Yes, but... I have to work...") "Hvor?" ("Where?") "På Sound of Mu på Markveien." ("At Sound of Mu on Markveien.") Blank stare from the guy. "En bar og galleri," I explained. ("A bar and gallery.") "Jeg liker disco," was the response. ("I like disco.")
And Then The Sun Came Out
I was just getting used to the spring rain, I had a cold, and then suddenly summer began. Was I prepared for it? No. It all seemed to happen too quickly. One day of sunshine and all of a sudden, people I'd never seen before started to appear in the area, the parks were full of people drinking beer, and the authorities even closed the street to traffic for some kind of festival. How did that come together so fast? Although I missed the first day of sunshine by staying inside with a cold, by now it's being going for four days. Yesterday I was actually in a park (see above); I found that having a hangover helps one's lazing-around abilities. It's nice being downstairs in the bar, because we leave the door open to the world now. I can stand out on the street and "engage" with the street...
Loppemarked
Up until this moment, North has been divided into four categories: "Norway," which gives general information about the country I'm living in; "Norwegian art," which informs you about Norway's art traditions; "Norwegian music," which describes some of the great music this country has produced; and "life experiences," which is directed at that section of the reading public who once knew the author and wonder to themselves whatever happened to that vile unseemly idiot if he didn't end up drowned in a swamp, as would have been appropriate. Now a new category is instigated! "Street level" involves observations of everyday life in Norway, particularly Oslo, and attempts to find the interesting in the quotidian. This week, I get down with the bargain-hunters and look at an example of the flea market (loppemarked) phenomenon. Every weekend, another primary school hosts a flea market, selling books, furniture, electrical goods, clothes etc., and today,...