Aya Norge

I have a happy history or encounters with the Norwegians. My first encounter was at the Women's World Cup matches in Portugal circa 2001. Aside from the match in which they played the USA team, I tended to side with the Norway fans at every field battle I attended. They were a fun, raucous group and they took me into their fold. They taught me swear words in Norwegian, taught me how to drink properly and to cheer louder then every other fan. It's such a very long story why I was even there as I still was living in America, but suffice to say I was in a bad place personally and the Norwegians were my lifeline that week. A couple of years later I was working on a project which found me buddied up with a student from Norway for at least 3 months. I became fascinated with a country that seemed so slick but fun, so smart but cool. The student and I, we still talk every once in awhile but of course he's no longer a student. Fast forward to 2006 and I am well into my life in London with Best Mate visiting every year. On one such visit we found ourselves in the VIP lounge at a popular London club surrounded by Moet and Norwegian bankers looking to spend their bonuses. Us being the only girls, well it goes without saying we had a very good time and probably drank more champagne that night then we ever had before.



One morning last week I woke up and looked out at a Fjord that was under a purple and pink streaked horizon with snow capped trees punctuating the bitter cold. It has been nearly 10 years exactly since my first run in with the naughty Norwegians and I can't believe it's taken me this long to get to Oslo. It's an interesting little place where people eat lots of hot dogs and wear white athletic socks with ballet flats. Not a good look on either count, but it doesn't detract from the lovely and warm nature of these people living in a frozen tundra. Never before have I been so cold that the tears streaming from my eyes (whilst walking from cab to hotel) actually stopped in their tracks on my face, frozen with fright. The rumours are true and alcohol is unbelievably expensive, so even a whisky to warm your cockles is dear. Never the less the people of Norway are lovely and toasty with amazing food and a hearty approach to life. Their wee ones are basically born with skis which are well utilised from go.

As I fastened my seat belt, raised my tray table and returned my seat back to its upright position I started thinking back (as I often tend to do) on the journeys I have been on over the 6+ years of living in Europe and even in the 4 years prior when I first used that blue passport for what it was intended. Journeys far and wide and journeys I didn't leave my home for. What a difference a decade makes.