Unexplorable

On the morning of May 26, we still hadn’t met Roger, the man whose AirBnB we were currently staying at.  When we arrived, his mother had let us in, and he hadn’t been home at all the past two nights.  We ran into him over breakfast this morning, though, looking particularly well-styled for so early.  Nicholas picked his brain for tips about hiking and walking, and he referred us to Norway’s DNT.  He was quickly off and about, though, and left us to our banana smoothies and roasted breakfast tomatoes.

There were a few planning/housekeeping things we needed to organise before we got ready for the day, so we head to DNT (to find that there was next to no hiking in Norway until mid-June) and to the VisitOslo office.  We’d read online that the Stenersen Museum was free entry on Tuesdays (pro-tip: It was in 2014, but no longer) so we made our way over there just before lunch.

The Stenersen were currently holding a retrospective that encompassed the entire gallery, for a man named Guttorm Guttormsgaard who appears to be pretty prolific in the Norwegian scene, even in his 70’s.  There was a huge socio-political force driving a lot of the work – looking at WWII era Europe, and continuing to explore current terror and the Israel/Palestinian conflict.  It was all very loaded.

A lot of the show was also of his collections.  If you know Nick and I, you’ll know that we’re quite into collecting things, and seeing other peoples’ collections.  Nicholas gets quite cynical, feeling like ‘all the good stuff is gone’, but I don’t mind.  There was a strange blur of lines in the show – did Guttorm make this? Did he find this?  The staff in there wasn’t too friendly, so if you’re paying a visit (literally paying), bear this in mind.

Leaving Stenersen behind, we picnicked by the ferry port, eating bananas, biscuits and cheese.  In the distance we could see the bright foliage of the islands that dot Oslofjord.  Oslo was lit up by a bright sun and framed by almost cartoon-y clouds, and it looked like a place of magic.

Darker clouds started rolling in, arousing fears of sudden rain, so we took our leave and decided to head for the Opera House.  Opened in 2008, it has won numerous architecture awards for its distinctive ‘iceberg’ shape.  The white marble slopes give the impression of rising out of the water.  The interior is just as beautiful; it is filled with natural light and wonderfully textured walls and surfaces.  It also has free wifi and nice toilets, which is a handy little bonus, especially if you’ve been on your feet all day.

On our way back to the apartment we stumbled upon a strange, tucked away Antique Shop.  Oslo ANTIKS, the sign read.

"Let's go in," said Nicholas.

"We'll be in there for hours," I resisted.  "And I'll find things I want to buy."

Nicholas continued begging until I let up, but didn't let me buy the 1930's binoculars I found, or the old goggles that came in a custom-built metal case.

This was an Antique Shop to rival the best of them.  It was filled to the brim with chandeliers, lots of old tables, war memorabilia and other strange knick-knacks.   Any number of strange objects appeared in multiple, including sledges and grandfather clocks and cracked porcelain dolls that'd feel very at home in any horror movie.  Nicholas was particularly partial to a small silver fish-shaped salt shaker, and I fell completely in love with some old specimen draws, perfect for compartmentalising any weird and wonderful collection.  We had to leave.

Making a quick stop off for some more groceries, we decided to spend the afternoon at Vigeland Park, the sculpture park housing sculptures only made by Gustav Vigeland.  Vigeland offered the city of Oslo lots, if not all, of his sculptures in return for a studio.  They accepted, and now that studio has been turned into a museum.  We didn’t enter the museum, but marveled at the strangely proportioned sculptures and their uncanny movements and actions.  You can easily see which sections of which sculptures are generally rubbed for good luck, because they gleam a bright golden bronze.

Roger had offered to make us some traditional Norwegian dinner (it included fish, which I ate my way around most of) in return for some good conversation.  We happily obliged, and sat around the table while he told us stories of his work, his travel and ambition to open a B&B in Italy.   Halfway through the meal, his daughter and brother arrived to join us, and we talked electric cars and renewables for a long time.  Did you know that a quarter of new cars bought in Oslo are electric?! Fantastic.