Previously: Euro Pilgrimage 1985-2025, Ch. 12: Omaha Beach to the Manneken-Pis and Little Mermaid.
In retrospect, the itinerary I sketched out for the waning days of the inaugural Euro pilgrimage in 1985 was the precise sort of frenetic exercise everyone consistently warned me against.
• Monday 22 July: Depart Copenhagen (evening); overnight train to Oslo
• Tuesday 23 July: Arrive in Oslo, morning; a whole day in the city
• Wednesday 24 July: Early morning train (6.5 hours) from Oslo to Bergen; evening in Bergen
• Thursday 25 July: Bergen to Oslo (afternoon/evening train), then an overnight train to Stockholm
• Friday 26 July: Arrive in Stockholm, morning; check into a hostel that doesn’t open until 16.00; wander the streets in a state of delirium
Idiotic. Ah, youth. The budget was tightening, time was dwindling, distances were lengthening, and pricey Scandinavia was a whirlwind ― with all of it by design.
I might have chosen instead to find one relatively affordable place and stayed there for a week, as in Sligo, but who could know? I might not ever pass that way again. Youthful reserves of adrenaline were a boon, to an extent. Still, it was exhausting.
My passport was stamped by 16 countries in 1985. Of these, only Iceland, Turkey and Norway have not been the subject of multiple return visits. Specifically, I’ve no logical reason for Norway’s omission. Spic-and-span urban areas, spectacular mountains, fjords and forests were refreshing in spite of high prices. When a return trip occurs, I might actually be able to afford it.
The first Norwegian epiphany came immediately upon exiting the train in Oslo and changing money. Hunger propelled immediate foraging, revealing an all-you-can eat breakfast buffet at the station restaurant for the equivalent of $8 – a bit of a splurge for daybreak, although rendered far more practical by my always handy plastic freezer bag, ready to be surreptitiously filled with meats and cheeses enough to last the whole day.
While industriously filling my plate (and bag) for the third time, I noticed the staid ceramic pots lined up on a shelf. Innocently imagining they were filled with jams or jellies, I scooped out a spoonful of … rectangular silvery-gray-pungent-vinegary fish parts.
I had the acquaintance of pickled herring, a delicacy that managed somehow...Read more
