I met my friend S, when she was living in Melbourne. Our daughters started primary school in the same class. Her family had just moved from Norway, and S was a little worried because her daughter, K, wasn’t fluent in English. I reassured her that K would be fine. I was born in Australia, but started primary school with barely a word of English too. I grew up in a multicultural neighbourhood where this wasn’t unusual. I went to English as second language classes, and learnt a few Greek, and French words along the way. The international language of play transcended cultural boundaries.
Time flew, and soon our girls were chatting away in English. Every week they went to choir together, while we sat and listened. She taught me how to knit European style. We got coffees. We talked about the big things, and the little things, from everyday life to social justice. Just like our daughters, we also became friends. After a few short years, S and her family moved home to Norway, but we kept in touch.
When Dad was mapping out the schedule for this trip, I insisted we go to Norway. I didn’t know much about Oslo other than the snippets shared by S. I had no agenda, no bucket list of must do’s. I just knew I wanted to visit my friend. I missed her, and I missed getting coffees, and hanging out. I told her that I would be flying in from New York.
She very plainly told me,
Oslo doesn’t compare to New York. You can see everything in Oslo in a few days.
She shoots straight as an arrow. If she’s thinking it, she says it, which I love. And then she sent me this advertisement for Oslo. Watch, and enjoy.
I laughed watching the video thinking it was tongue in cheek. Ha! So funny. What I didn’t realise at the time, is that this video was deadset true. It would all become real.
We arrived in Oslo at midnight. It took us over an hour to pick up our car from the self-service kiosk. Dad was wrangling with it in Norwegian to release the hire car keys. After about 30 minutes he found a button for English, but it took another 30 minutes talking to an operator, who remote dialled into the kiosk, and manually verified Dad’s driver’s license to release the car. When the keys dropped out of the machine, we cheered like the ball had dropped in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. By the time we arrived at our friend’s house in the suburbs of Oslo it was 2am. Dad couldn’t believe the family was in bed, and left the front door unlocked for us. I had to explain to him that we’ve long left New York, and we were safely in the suburbs of Oslo. A lovely cat purred, and meowed to welcome us. We missed our own cat so much, we were all overjoyed to pat a furry friend.
Matilda was on the night shift to welcome us to Oslo.
We woke up in the morning to an enormous round of hugs. We’d brought lots of gifts from New York, and presented them to our friends and hosts (Dad, Mum, teen daughter K, and teen son B, a cat Matilda, and a dog Selma). I always knew S had an eclectic vintage Scandinavian style. Her house is a cosy hug of warm colours where nothing matches, but everything belongs. Everything has a story, and was collected through time, and travels with curiosity. We added some bits and pieces from New York to the loving mix.
Our hosts put on an enormous spread, and then they dropped the first bomb. Host Mum proclaimed,
None of us like Norwegian food. I did ask my friends what Norwegian food we should make for you, but they all had awful suggestions. We decided we’d just eat what we always eat.
Wow. It was straight out of the Tourism Oslo script.
The food on the table told another story. There were berries from the garden, smoked salmon, and Norwegian cheeses. I learnt there are 3 cheeses in Norway; white cheese, yellow cheese, and brown cheese. This seems to be yet another extension of Norwegian straight shooting. (Brown cheese is made from caramelised milk and has a sweet, salty flavour.) I also learnt that you should always use a Norwegian cheese slicer, or you will be ridiculed. I have a photo of Host Daughter guffawing, and almost dying from laughter at my suggestion to use a kitchen knife to slice cheese.
I finally learnt how to slice cheese properly, and make matpakke (packed lunches), the Norwegian way.
Host Mum kindly arranged an itinerary for us with suggestions of plenty of Norwegian flavoured activities. I thought she was trying to fill in the time for us. She was not really “selling” Norway to us at all. It was almost as if she’s travelled the world, and Norway just happens to be where it’s convenient to live. She grew up here, her family is here, and Host Dad, who is Australian passed the test to be a Norwegian citizen (including by knowing how many wives he’s legally allowed to have in Norway). Host mum’s nonchalant attitude to Norway felt like a personal challenge. I was compelled to discover as much about Norwegian culture as quickly as possible, especially since we unexpectedly gave a day to Germany.
On Monday, it was school, and work for the host family. Host Mum suggested we could spend an hour or two at the Munch museum. It’s in a newly renovated part of the city where we could walk around, and then meet her at the sauna in the afternoon.
Exactly as per the Tourism Oslo script, there were no crowds. No pre-booking online required. We strolled in off the street, and bought tickets. The Munch is a world class museum opened in 2021. It was purpose built to exhibit the Munch collection. Munch was crazy prolific, and he donated his life’s work, and personal artefacts to the people of Norway. The museum collection has 28,000 artworks and 42,000 artefacts. A museum based around one artist seems excessive, but we spent the entire day there. We saw 3 versions of “The Scream”, and other works that deeply examined the themes of life, and emotion such as anger, jealousy, and love.
We had a screaming good time at the Munch Museum.
There were interactive spaces where we made our own artworks, and explored Munch’s home. The recreation of Munch’s home had tiny holes where a family of mice lived. We spied through peepholes on tiny dioramas of mice in dollhouse like rooms, which were a fun addition to the experience. We were awed by huge canvas works (bigger than the footprint of our house in Melbourne) in an exhibit titled “Monumental Munch”. With every floor of art explored, we ascended the building to increasingly impressive views of Oslo fjord.
After a few hours, we stopped for a delicious snack. The museum has a lovely cafe. It was not the usual overpriced tourist trap fare. Even the museum staff were eating there. We had some delicious toasties, and tried Norwegian smoked prawns. It was all far too easy.
Smoked prawns, with a side of mayonnaise and rye bread for munchies at the Munch.
By the late afternoon, it was time to meet Host Mum. She was waiting outside the Munch Museum. She wanted to show us this spectacular sculpture:
The Mother
The Mother is by UK artist, Tracey Emin. (I guess they couldn’t find anyone in Norway to do the job?) The Mother is 9 metres high, sitting in a flower bed, and holding something special. She’s a testament to love sitting right on the banks of the Oslo fjord.
We walked about 150 metres to get to the sauna. It’s conveniently located between the Munch museum and the Opera House. We didn’t even need to walk the 30 minutes to the other side of the city. Five minutes was sufficient.
It was cold, and rainy as we got into our swimmers. There was an exhilarating feeling as we jumped in and out of the chilly harbour, and then hopped into the hot wood fired sauna, right in the city centre. I asked the girls to imagine a sauna on the banks of the Yarra in Melbourne CBD. They dismissed it with,
Hard pass, Mum.
I thought that was the peak of the experience, until one of the girls spotted the ice baths. We fired ourselves up to peak toasty, all sweaty, and pink. We then made a run to the cold outdoor shower, and plunged up to our necks into the aluminium ice bath. Every single nerve receptor in my skin fired simultaneously. I don’t know if I have ever felt more alive. All I knew is that I had to do it again! The second time, after the deep shock, I put myself into a meditative state until the family screamed for me to get out. They were horrified I could sit there for so long, and worried hypothermia would hit. It was one of the most fun things I’ve done on this trip so far. The Tourism Oslo advert is 100% correct. Skip the plunge into the fjord. Go for the ice bath with the views of the fjord.
The very cute private sauna with a swim ladder into the Oslo fjord booked by Host Mum.
Host mum’s next suggestion was a trip to the Norsk Folkmuseum. It’s a cultural museum covering life in Norway from 1,200 to present. We arrived to an empty carpark, and wondered if the place was even open. Yes it was. Occasionally we saw a couple of other visitors to the museum. Thank the gods for Host Mum suggesting that we pack sandwiches, because the place was enormous. It’s more like several villages trapped in different eras. There are farmhouses that date back to 1238. They show a simple way of life centred on crops and animals. Life was hard for these families, but wandering around looking at their homes was incredibly picturesque. Many of the farmhouses had a birch bark roof which was held down with a green roof.
A exploring the historic farm buildings at the folkmuseum.
One of the highlights of the folkmuseum is the 13th century Stave Church which is a step back in time to the Middle Ages. Inside we met a young woman with a hardingfele. It is a traditional Norwegian instrument similar to the violin, but it has double the number of strings. When she learnt that A plays the violin, she provided us with an impromptu concert. We listened to the haunting harmonic sounds of her instrument, and we were transported back to another time.
The Stave Church at the folkmuseum.
The extraordinary thing about the folkmuseum is that it took us through to life in the modern era. Corner shops, pubs, pharmacies, garages, and homes were faithfully reproduced so we were able to time travel from the late 19th century and all the way up to now. In one apartment building each of the apartments was a different decade of 20th century. The building reflects the diversity of urban life including the residences of a South Asian family, a single woman, a couple, a single mother and her children. As Dad and I happily reminisced about life in the 80’s and 90’s, the girls cringed at their antique parents.
One of my favourite apartments, a 70’s Norwegian apartment with a daybed in the kitchen. Somewhere comfy to wait while the bread bakes, or a curry slowly simmers. How perfect!
I was especially happy to have had the chance to visit this museum, because I missed the chance to visit the Tenement Museum in New York. It has a very similar concept of touring apartments reconstructed in different eras to learn about city life in other times. In New York, you can visit one apartment at a time on a tour. I had decision paralysis, and found it hard to choose a tour. In Oslo, it was open slather from the 13th century to modern day in one place, and one ticket. No crowds, free tours included on the middle ages. It was all too easy.
Host Mum was right to warn that there is no comparing New York to Oslo. If you’re looking for some travel adventure, or that exclusive experience, forget about Oslo. If you’re an experienced traveller, and you know how to hustle the best deal for that amazing experience, and get that perfect shot for social media amongst the hordes and the throngs, then Oslo is not for you. If you’re tired and lazy, maybe you have a motley brood in tow, sick of being challenged, somewhat jaded, and very cynical, then Oslo is perfect. You might even be pleasantly surprised like me.