A British Duck is a Soaring Soul: Day 1

The first day of the trip proper was another early start (note to my future self; I hereby promise you that you will be allowed to catch up on this lost sleep time later). We rose at 05:00; I cooked a breakfast of french toast and fruit juice, whilst Chris prepared sandwiched for our lunch later on.

At 06:00 Chris' brother arrived to give us a lift to Gatwick Airport's South terminal. When I emerged from Chris's flat he was rather surprised to see me; it seems Chris's family had assumed he would be taking the trip to Norway with his girlfriend. Another fine example of Chris' ability to disseminate information effectively and clearly.

The airport its self was a fairly unremarkable experience; although that in its self suggests that both the check-in process and our own preparedness were bang-on (as I would have noticed were either not up to scratch). There was, of course, the usual interesting experience of wandering around in one's socks having been directed to put your boots through the X-Ray machine trying to look dignified whilst doing so. On this occasion we both avoided a frisking.

The flight time from London to Oslo is a mere 1hour 50mins; not even enough time for an inflight movie. They did show a Norwegian candid camera show, in which the producers set-up a range of innocent by-standers to be 'discovered' in compromising positions. One such mark, was carefully maneuvered such that at just the right moment two "police officers" enter the shop to find him stood over the bound and gagged shop-keep, wielding a base ball bat. This confirms what I have long suspected; Norwegians have wider evil streak than they are generally credited with :p

As the plane made its approach to Oslo, we could see patches of snow on the forested land surrounding the city. The colour pallet was also giving all of those subtle ques that yes; you are somewhere new.
We were swiftly off the plane and reunited with our bags (and duck, who had insisted upon traveling in the hold for reasons known only to himself) and on to Oslo its self.

Heading to baggage claim at Oslo Gardermoen.

We took the airport express train into the Oslo Sentralstasjon (central station). As we passed through the outlying parts of town, the general impression was similar to that given off by a British city a few days after a heavy snow fall; that slightly gray hue of gritting salt residue. Even so, the jucsterposition of urban high-rise against great chunks of granite and patches of wooded land was quite striking; making everything feel unique to this place.

We were struck by the 'IKEAesque' nature of the train's interior; a reassuring early sign that we really were going to experience a different culture.

After the swift train journey and a short stroll (though perhaps less direct than optimal using our "intuitive navigation" approach) we arrived a full hour ahead of schedule at the Anker Hotel, where we to stay the night (confusing situated next door to the Anker Hostel).

After a slightly puzzling encounter with a Norwegian lift with a hinged (as opposed to sliding) outer door, Dan and duck make it to the hotel room.

The view from our hotel room. Alas the usual British convention of providing "tea and coffee making facilities" doesn't seem to apply here; neither Beth, Bill nor Bowen would be impressed by this. (on the bright side - the bathroom has under floor heating)

After a short break to get set up on the WiFi (priorities, y' know) and nom some sandwiches we headed out. Shortly thereafter we passed a military surplus shop with a Welsh flag displayed in its window; I had a feeling I could fit in there.

A games shop in Oslo displays statues of characters Solid Snake, MCPO John 117 and Spiderman (amongst others). This bodes well.

We stopped off back at the station to collect our tickets for Thursdays rail journey to Bergen, and were pleasantly surprised by how smoothly things went.

Chris near the Royal palace; we passed many buildings on the way there that we are fairly sure would have been impressive... had they not been covered in scaffolding (the amount of construction work underway in Oslo was quite noticeable)

Me in front of the Royal palace; oddly I didn't see anyone else out in a t-shirt.

As becomes a major city in this part of the world, Oslo has its share of public art, but with its own nordic slant.

The Nobel peace center in Oslo.

As we meandered around Oslo (so far not having seen any of the sights we has intended on seeing) we realized that this was hungry work. We wandered the harbor searching for a place to eat, but were dismayed to find American style food dominating the quayside. Having passed McDonalds, TGI Fridays and a plethora of non branded "texas steak-house" type operations, we eventually found a place that seemed like it was serving what sounded a reasonably Nordic Menu; the Cafe Sorgenfri.
The name 'cafe' belied how upscale a venue it appeared to be. The decor was quirky to the extreme, but created a pleasant atmosphere. The food when it came was gorgeous; Chris went for the dish of the day, where as I stuck with fish (it is Norway after all). (later we consulted our lonely planet and found that it goes unmentioned, but we think we may have stumbled onto a gem). During the meal we attempted to enlighten our selves regarding proper pronunciation of norsk; as the phonetic approximations in the phrase book were frequently erroneous. We also hit our first cross cultural misunderstanding over the use of the term "white tea", which the waitress took to mean the type of tea (as opposed to its more frequent usage in Britain to mean "black tea, with milk").
As we inspected the various restaurants and cafes we had been wincing at the prices, which seemed to fulfill the forecast of between two and four times as expensive as at home. After the meal though, I didn't feel like I had paid over the odds for what we had. I would suggest that prices aren't currently higher as such, but there seemed to be a notable absence of anything but high-end dishes. Given that this country has the largest GDP per capita in the world though, that seems logical (if worrying for us).

It was about this point that the oddity of having risen in London and dined in Oslo (having strolled lazily about most of the day) struck us. It seems it really is a small world.

A milk chocolate brulee', with raspberry sorbet. No it wasn't as good as it looks... it was much better than that.

By the harbor side (with rain gear donned against the persistent drizzle). There were two large cruise liners in port; one German, one British a reminder that the calm waterways around and about connect to the open sea.