Friday, 15 June 2012

Tuesday To Oslo and the Island of killing

Construction workers start early in Norway 6pm I know this because my quiet campsite woke to roar of diggers,breakers and lorries to continue work on the overpass right next to the site. Hey ho life goes on  theres a city to visit. Some 20 miles into the ride i started to have cravings for some pastries so i pulled into a Remmi store and bought myself a couple of norway pĂ„sries and sat outside looking over the lake enjoying the fine food. I was joined by a blue eyed blonde haired bare chested cyclists , male i hasten to add. He opend a jar of olives and began to eat them. we talked of our journey and he offered me an olive  i accepted and felt obliged to offer him something back, hopeing he wouldnt accept i offered him one of my pasties and blow me down he accepted an olive for a pastry not really a fair swap i think. We got talking and he asked me if i was going to see the Island of killing. I wasnt sure what he meant, and it turned out to be the island that the killings took place last year of all the children, i would be cycling past it on my way to Oslo. Weird in all this beauty how something terrible could happen. I was invited to go into the woods with him on a short cut to Oslo I said thankyou but my bike wasnt up to shortcuts. We parted ways  and off he tootled into the distance. Some miles later I approached a large island in the middle of the Lake, I looked why what was i going to see, i wasnt even sure if that was the island, why are we needing to look at scenes of misery! I dont know why.
I continued into Oslo and navigation took some doing as my poor scaled map could not cope with the many twists and turns. The people are very friendly and soon i arrived at the hostel. I ate and with an unladen bike i mad my way into the city the bike felt to light but boy could i get up the hills. What I was suprised to see was that there was cyclists every where having not seen any since Bergen I felt obliged to hay Hi to everyone(Hi  is international) strangley I got Hi s back and smiles. I headed into the city cycling lanes everywhere, and came across the posh end of the town diners were out on the harbour front dressed to the nines laughing, posing and spending all that money, how can they afford all that , they must be so rich. I must have looked like a tramp with my tounge hanging out. I moved on to the Harbour and a crowd had gathered around a Swing Club that were doing their thing on the harour front. They and the spectators me included, looked to be having so much fun.

1 comment:

  1. Continental types don't understand that an olive is NOT a fair swap for a pastry. Even an Englishman wouldn't do that to you. Good move not to join him or anyone else in a backwoods short cut. We've all seen 'Deliverance'. Very strange to think of you passing Utoya island.