Oslo, Norway weekend (March 2-4, 2007)

Last weekend I flew from Glasgow to Oslo, Norway, on RyanAir for a low-budget weekend adventure. I didn’t plan much in advance, except for booking the flight and reserving a bunk at a hostel somewhere a few miles outside the city.

I arrived at Torp Airport in Sandefjord, Norway, on Friday afternoon, and took a 2+ hour bus ride into Oslo. The sky was blue and bright, and everything was covered with snow. By the time I got to the city, it was dark and cold, but a twinge of exhilaration hit me as I walked out of the bus station – I was wandering around an unfamiliar European city with just a backpack and not much of an idea of where to go. Fortunately most of the locals spoke excellent English, so I didn’t notice much of a language barrier. Eventually I found my way to the hostel, a sprawling building perched atop a snow-covered hillside northeast of town.

Saturday morning I visited a bit with my roommates – a diverse bunch from Slovakia, England, New Zealand, Norway and Brazil – then took in the breakfast provided in the hostel cafeteria. At first I stuck with the recognizable bread with jam, then realized I’d need a bit more protein for the day so I decided to partake in the traditional Norwegian fare. I tried something from a bowl consisting of cold and apparently raw fish chunks (herring) and onions, as well as slices from a thick brown cylinder of what looked and tasted like strong peanut-butter flavored cheese (brunost, maybe?).

After breakfast - despite a nasty cold - I bundled up for the sub-freezing temperatures and ventured outside and back down the hill, making my way back to the city center. I wanted to do some authentic Nordic (cross-country) skiing, and it turned out that I didn’t have to look very hard for the opportunity. Once at Oslo’s Downtown Sentralstajion train platform, I just followed the locals who were carrying ski gear onto a particular train headed northwest of the city. After the train wound its way up a mountain, I got off at Voksenkollen near the end of the line, and soon found a chalet where I could rent gear. The stations are perfectly located for winter activities – most of the locals clipped their skis on as soon as they stepped off the train and sped off into the snowy wonderland. Even little kids were skiing, although several of them had heavy-duty metal sleds that were built for speed and looked really fun. Within a few minutes, I was alone skiing a hilly trail that wound its way through dense forest.

I skied the rest of the day, returned my gear, and rode the train back down into the city. Before it got dark, I was able to enjoy the sculpted column and bronze characters lining the bridge at Vigelandsparken. For dinner – I’m embarrassed to say – I had a couple McDonald hamburgers. At equivalent US $3.25 each, that was the only ready-made food I could find in the city even remotely affordable. For the curious, they taste like the same cardboard they taste like in America. In general, I’d say prices in Oslo were about 20-30% higher than in Glasgow, where the US dollar already doesn’t have much purchasing power. Beers were about $10/pint, so needless to say, I didn’t do much drinkin’.

For the most part, I avoided the normal “touristy” things in Oslo, but on the last morning I did make a run out to the grounds of the Royal Palace to look around and take some pictures. I skipped the Munch Museum (art gallery, not a food museum) and Viking Museum during the trip since I wanted to spend most of my time outdoors.

Sunday morning was bone-chilling cold and windy, and by the time I coughed and blew my nose through the 5-hour bus-airplane-train journey back to Glasgow (my sincere apologies to my fellow passengers), I was eager to get back to my warm flat, take a hot shower, and rest before going to work the next day. Unfortunately, when I arrived at the entrance to my apartment building, I was greeted with a memo on the door noting that the gas main to the building had been ruptured by [careless] excavation during the weekend, and that it would be several days before service could be restored…that meant no heat, no stove, and no hot water. Although I wasn’t as comfortable as I could have been, it was still nice to come home, wrap up in a blanket, and watch the wind and rain pound the river below instead of me.

My "Posh" Flat on the River Clyde

Thought I'd post a few pictures of my new flat at Meadowside Quay Square in the Glasgow Harbour development. The area was formerly the site of several large brick granary buildings on the waterfront. My unit is one of three on the 6th Floor (7th Floor for Americans). The big window is south-facing, so if there's sunlight in Glasgow, I get to see it. Jacobs expects me to work hard when I'm on the job, but they're also making sure I'm comfortable when I come home to relax.

The main living area.

Living room and guest bedroom behind sliding door.

View of the River Clyde from the main living room window and the shipyards across the river.

Sunrise view over the Scotland Exhibition and Conference Center (the Armadillo) and the Science Center and Tower near Downtown Glasgow.

Westward view from living room, looking downriver.

Looking north to the Partick Neighborhood in the West End from the master bedroom. I walk through the tunnel each day on my way to Partick Station, where I can catch a train, subway, or bus to work about 2 miles away in Downtown Glasgow. I plan to buy a cheap bike and ride it to work on occasion as well.

Eastward view from the Meadowside Quay Square Promenade outside the entrance to my building. I think the pathway eventually links up with a cycleway to Loch Lomond, north of the city.

Week Four Photos

Auchentoshan Single Malt (Scotch) Whisky Distillery (Lowlands) near Glasgow.

Wash Tank made from Oregon Pine. The container extends down another 20 feet or so below the platform. The tour group was allowed to sample the partially fermented barley drawn into a glass dipped into the tank...I found it a bit odd that everyone shared the same glass. Fortunately I drank first!

The Spirit Bank adjacent to a still at Auchentoshan Distillery

Week Four (Feb. 25 - March 2, 2007)

• I now understand 68.2% of Glaswegian speech in conversations the first time something is said to me (a decline from last week).
  
• On Saturday, Sarah, a co-worker from my office, invited me to go on the Auchentoshan Whisky distillery tour with her and her husband Ian. The distillery, one of the few in the Scottish lowlands, has been (legally) making whisky for 184 years. It was my first visit to a “hard alcohol” production facility and my first time trying single malt whisky. I liked the tour – especially when the guide said they import “very special wood” (Oregon Pine) from the states for the wash fermentation containers. The dram of whisky I tried was overpowering at first, but it was interesting trying to discern the different flavors that it generated. Later in the evening I was invited to dinner at Sarah and Ian’s, and we sampled four or five other Scottish single malts from their growing collection.
  
• After searching for flats (apartments) for the past couple of weeks, the pressure was on for me to quickly grab a place that was available. My most recent viewing late last week was of a flat currently under repair from major flooding caused by the penthouse unit above it. Apparently 40 other units were impacted as well. The rooms were dark, covered in dust and still had holes cut in the ceiling. Considering the complex was only a year old, I didn’t leave with a good feeling, and returned to the office rather dejected. Since my options were limited, I asked to view the flat again once the work was scheduled to be finished a couple days later. Meanwhile, I hoped something else would turn up.
  
• A couple of hours before my next scheduled viewing of the then-repaired water-damaged flat, I received the great news that “something turned up” with the tenant that originally bumped me from my top-choice Meadowside Quay flat on the River Clyde waterfront. The river-view flat is now mine! I’m scheduled to move in Thursday morning, and I’m hoping to post some pictures later in the week.
  
• Friday afternoon, I’ll be flying to Oslo, Norway, for the weekend. I’m a bit concerned because several Scots have told me that Oslo is “extremely expensive,” so I’m not exactly sure what to expect. Fortunately, the flight was cheap and I got a good rate at a local hostel, so most of my expenditures are covered. I’m hoping to get in some authentic Nordic skiing (cross-country) while I’m there.

Week Three Photos - Stirling Day Trip

A shot of the cannons atop Mote Hill from a different perspective. Stirling has long been a strategically important town due to its upsteam location on the River Firth (which flows to Edinburgh) and as a "gateway" to the Highlands. Its abundance of good look-out points must have served resident military forces well.

View from Mote Hill, near the base of Stirling Castle. The caged object in the foreground was marked "The Beheading Stone." Not sure of the historical significance, but despite the morbid implications I enjoyed my nap in the sun on the bench next to the cannons.

A shot of the cobbled streets of old-town Stirling.

Interesting memorial in one of the cemeteries surrounding Stirling Castle.

The residents of this neighboorhood enjoy a view of the Monument in the distance. Look closely on the left hand side, and you can see a local working on his chip shot in his front yard.

Eating - what else? A shortbread cookie at the Stirling Bridge over the River Forth, site of William Wallace's legendary upset of English Forces...a long time ago.

Looking east from atop the "Outer Defences" of Stirling Castle. Statue of Robert the Bruce in the foreground.

View of Stirling Castle in the distance from the base of the Wallace Monument.

The back end of the William Wallace ("Braveheart")Monument.

Week Three Photos

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get a shot of this high-class Scottish single-wide. Looks like it's right out of Tuscany!

Monument in Glasgow's George Square dedicated to a famous Scotsman, Lord Gladstone, influential British Prime Minister of the late 19th Century and namesake for my hometown in Oregon.

Week Three (Feb. 18 - 24, 2007)

• I celebrated the end of my second week in Glasgow by quaffing a pint of hard cider with Mel and his girlfriend, Muire, at the longest bar in Scotland – the Horseshoe. The place felt like an authentic dive, and I was told that for the longest time, the two restrooms in the pub both had urinals.
• I now understand 71.6% of Glaswegian speech in conversations the first time something is said to me.
• I’m scheduled to stay at the Spires in the downtown core for 3 weeks. I’ve been continuing to scope out potential flats around the city to make home for the rest of my assignment. I viewed some really nice places early on, but neither I nor the office staff assisting me realized how hot the Glasgow rental market is. All the places I went to see were snatched up within a day or two of going on the market. The city has undergone a major transformation for the better in recent years, and I think word has gotten around to rest of the European Union that the Mitchell Library will hand out library cards to anybody.
• I’ve centered my efforts at finding housing around the West End, which isn’t far from my office and the city core, and has lots of transportation links. The area is known by its bohemian mixture of restaurants, pubs, museums and theatres, and its anchor resident, the University of Glasgow.
• My favorite place was a flat on the sixth floor of a brand-new development at Meadowside Quay, on the banks of the River Clyde. The flat had a huge floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Clyde, waterfront promenade, and historic shipyards and port on the opposite side of the river. The Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth ships were built nearby at Clydebank along with many other historic vessels. I expressed interest in the place right away, but got bumped because another prospective tenant was willing to sign a longer lease. My search continues…
• On Saturday morning (OK, it was the previous week, but who cares?) I went for a walk around Downtown and stopped by Queen Street Station. There was a train for Aberdeen (via Stirling) leaving in two minutes, and I thought, “why not?” I crammed my credit card in the ticket machine and ran to the platform and jumped on the train as the doors were shutting. About a half-hour later I was getting off at Stirling Station with nowhere in particular to go and a day to kill. I figured I walked at least 15-20 miles that day between and around the William Wallace Monument, Stirling Bridge and Stirling Castle and the surrounding cemeteries. Mel Gibson would have been proud. After hiking down from the hill which hosts the Wallace Monument, I bought a pack of chocolate chip shortbread cookies at a market and walked across town to sit on the park bench I could see unoccupied atop Mote Hill, near the castle. The sun suddenly popped out, and full of cookies, I dozed off on the bench and enjoyed one of the best naps of my life. When I woke up, the sun was still shining, and I sat and watched a rugby match off in the distance, framed by the Highlands.