This weekend I took a trip across to Oslo for a change of scenery, getting some warmer clothes, remembering what a green vegetable tastes like etc. To get from Voss to Oslo is always a mixed bag, the train rides are between about 5.5 and 6.5 hours and you never now what your company is going to be like. On the way to Oslo I got on a train that made all the stops and was a little over 6.5 hours, arriving in Oslo at 11:45 Friday night. Personally, I subscribe to the theory of put in your headphones, close your eyes and lie to yourself that you will actually fall asleep. However, seeing as I had yet to buy my ticket I had to wait to begin utilizing my strategy until the ticket guy came around. This was when the person sitting across from me struck. In order to get back bills for change I needed 6 more kroner and the guy sitting across from me (we were the only 2 in a 4 person 2 facing 2 grouping of seats) helped out. He used this intro to chat me up for the next 5 hours, nonstop. While I never learned his name (we didn't really do introductions) I did learn that he: is from Bergen, has a lung capacity of 6.8 liters (male average 6.0 liters) at 53 despite smoking since he was 10 (not like he had one cigarette at 10 he was full on smoking at 10) though he never really played any sports, his dad regularly drives his Audi A4 at 200 km per hour around Bergen, one of his best childhood friends cannot legally be taken into custody unless there are 5 police officers present (sounded sketchy to me too), he believes in literal "eye for in eye" (no, way more literally than you are thinking right now), and so much more. He also informed me that I speak norwegian like a 7th of 8th grader reads it (its a start).
I stayed at my Aunt Anne and he fiance Anders' apartment in the city. On Saturday I was able to wake up at about 10 and eat a bacon and egg sandwich while playing Anders in a couple of different video games. I then took a bus to Bull Ski og Kajak to buy a roller ski part I was in need of. The bus stop to go back just so happened to be right next to a McDonalds, and, seeing as my parents had previously expressed their concern over my protein intake the least I could do was get a hamburger. Things went downhill from that decision. First, they failed to have the double quarter pounder (my order every time), then the checkout lady totally nailed my order (no cheese, just ketchup) which should never happen at McDonalds, finally when I got my burger the most surprising thing happened, it did not taste like the McDonalds that I know and enjoy very much. It just didn't taste good. A personal first for me in my McDonalds career. The day, however, was rescued by watching Djokovic beat Federer (not a huge fan and Djokovic needed that win) and then watching the new Robin Hood (just as good the second time).
Sunday I took the 8:11 train back to Voss which was a fast one (5:40). Before I went on, though, I discovered something awesome, chocolate boller (hard to describe, nothing really like boller in the US, just imagine something like a chocolate croissant). Armed with my breakfast I boarded the train. This time my draw was 3 Slovenians on vacation. After a worrisome start (about 1:00 of chatting it up, though in English) I was able to enact my iPod eyes close routine. I got back to Voss in time for a roller ski and a badly needed clean up of my hybel.
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