Norway In a Nutshell

I expected expensive but I didn’t expect to now compare all pricing to a chicken sandwich.

What did my bridesmaid dress cost for my friends upcoming wedding? It wasn’t bad. Under four chicken sandwiches. The cost of my mom calling the U.S. during her trip to Ecuador? One sandwich for three days! The chicken sandwich in question was not made from a prize chicken named Timothe that grew up on an elite farm in the hills of Provence. It was not saffron infused and covered in black truffle oil, nor did it die from old age peacefully surrounded by its closest foul friends finally laid to rest upon a golden baked crust of bread derived from sun baked wheat farms fed by the freshest Evian water. But it did cost $35 for a seven inch sandwich on a sub roll and I did lose seven pesky pounds by eating meals that consisted of grocery store bread, Wasa crackers, and carrots.

It was the most expensive country I have ever been in, but also the most different than expected. Norway is consistently voted the happiest country in the world, if it isn’t number one it is always in the top three. And as I looked around at a spread of gorgeous blondes with crystalline eyes I sought smiles and I saw none. This is not to say the Norse aren’t friendly, but they were simply not open. In the U.S. people seemingly wear their emotions on their sleeves to the worst degree. I was back in the U.S. for less than 10 hours before a driver flicked me off. I returned the gesture, then she did it again, and I returned it again laughing out loud at what a collective group of raging assholes we are here.

But Norway is not that. They’re even separate from their country neighbors. In Amsterdam people were mostly abrupt and unhelpful. Like when the museum tour guide scoffed at the idea of returning the stolen Jewish art during WW2. The brisk Baltic sea air made has made them a bracing people made warm blooded only by the heat from their ceaseless cigarettes.

But Norway, while not dickish nor brisk were just there. Their blue eyes stare through you and a thing happened that I didn’t expect. I got lonely. I went on a hike and spoke with the tour guide extensively over the course of the 7-mile walk. Lars, the guide, was blonde because of course he was expressed there is this level of solitude that many Nords go for when he mentioned he hopes to one day have a cabin that is at least a days hike from civilization.

Perhaps this is why the Nords are so happy, they’ve realized being around too many twits really diminishes your joy. That in conjunction with a guaranteed solid living condition certainly doesn’t hurt. But all the same I was lonely. It doesn’t help that I have a boyfriend. My normal solo trips consist of hostel stays in coed group rooms to meet people followed by a night at bars with my new friends. The only way to truly experience another countries culture is through Tinder generated trans-Atlantic love affairs with beautiful blonde British boys who drink too much. A hunch told me my boyfriend wouldn’t have liked me trolling around a country elf hunting. That hunch being an explicit commitment to each other and mutual respect. So with 50% of my normal traveling activities eradicated I was forced to hike and be sober.

The sobriety wasn’t even really an option. Norway didn’t have bars that I saw and I wasn’t particularly keen on sitting in the gas station/restaurant/grocery store/visitor information combination shops that seemed to mark the start and end of most towns I drove through. The few restaurants I encountered had terrible hours as if the cost wasn’t a deterrent enough. Want to eat dinner past 5pm? Starve says the Norse. We have a work-life balance in Norway so we will be closed and you will be hungry.

Many of my hotel rooms were small and wonderful. There was a single bed, a small bathroom (private or shared), a pillow, a blanket, a towel, and a window that opened. Most places I booked included breakfast. The breakfast spread was not like the United States but I learned if I wanted to eat then it must be done in the morning. The other breakfast goers were accustomed to the meat-centric breakfast spread. Sliced ham, salmon, boiled eggs, cucumbers, and fish paste are the classic Norway morning eats. It's easy to see how they are among the healthiest countries. I found the food unbearably bland at best, horrifyingly foul at worst. But in the morning the hotels guests sat dutifully down and ate several eggs, 4 plus pieces of toast, museli with yogurt in one bowl, fish paste and cucumbers in the next, a plate of old orange slices, and Wasa crackers with cheese or ham slices. Big breakfasts, but I couldn't blame them when this meal was free and all others are a small car payment. The shrimp subs that were sold in shops lacked all seasoning save for sliced lemon, peel included. Needless to say I stuck to cereal and cucumbers. It wasn't a nice combination, but I wasn't about to scoff at free vegetables in a country that can't grow much.

The water in Norway was divine. From every tap burst forth a spring of Voss water, literally Voss water is the tap water in Norway. I find I am picky on my water tastes, California and Chicago both have nearly undrinkable taps, the water tastes metallic and constantly warm. But this water was perfection. Crisp and clean with no aftertaste. On my hike the guide Lars went and dipped a cup directly into a stream and drank the water straight. Another hiker asked "has the plague been found in this water?" Lars casually answered no, we are too far north. I, being the only one who seemed concerned by this conversation asked "like the actual plague?" The group laughed. No, Lars explained, the plague is just like a flu here, transmitted by rabbits, its very treatable and not deadly. I wondered what they called petty theft? An ISIS attack?

Norway is without a doubt beautiful. But the problem comes from seeing so much of the world already. Its a good problem to have. The fjords were like New Zealand, the cities like Holland, the green hills like Switzerland. It was a little bit of each but without the magnitude. But despite the loneliness I found love for the place.
Were the people helpful? No. They spoke like riddles giving you enough information not to be a douche but never enough to help you.
Was it affordable? Miles from it.
Was there a vibrant culture? Honestly no, like I really struggled to find artwork .
Was it unique? Again no, it looked like loads of other places with a higher price tag.
Was there shopping? Seriously not good shopping, it was an actual struggle to shop and I am a very willing participant to funding businesses at home.
Was it the roads, I do love driving? No and honestly their tunnels scared me. The walls weren't paved up and they didn't have lights and they were so freaking long at points I felt I was in a dazey twilight zone.
Was it the weather? I mean it rained constantly and this is the "sunny warm" season.
Did it have hot springs like Iceland? No which is weird because they are so close.
But come on, it's not like a bird attacked you on a hike or something. Actually it did, a great skua which is actually a decently large bird and it flew straight at me squawking....
Ok am I saying I didn't actually like it? Because it seems like I didn't like it. Maybe? I don't know. It was safe which is a nice change from the U.S. It was clean, you didn't see trash out anywhere (probably a year in jail if you littered) and you can "roam" anywhere you'd like and pop a tent up. It's a minimalists skinny introverts paradise. And I did love parts of it especially what I came away with. Which was seven less pesky pounds.

Just kidding. There was plenty more to love. Like cows and sheep casually walking in the road. Everyone knows I freaking love sheep. And despite being grey it was really pretty. I actually thought to myself "this place is probably gorgeous in the summer" before I realized oh, this is the summer. Womp womp.