June 21, 2010: Oslo airport and a flight north...

Traveling is a process one undertakes. We travel across our homes (usually in search of food), our cars (for work), our cities (for friends), and across our countries (to visit new places). There are basic rules to traveling- 1. it's going to be exhausting, 2. you're bound to leave something at home, 3. there will be lines, 4. breathing becomes mandatory as you wait. This juncture of the trip proved no different.

Due to ill timing (trying to adjust to a new time zone) and bad luck (slowest bus driver on the planet), I arrived at the Oslo airport just in time to get lost (my only previous experience at the airport was the prior day when I was trying to leave it) and discover that my plane was closing the cabin doors. So much for the delays that plague American airports, no such luck.

Bouncing between agents (SAS and Norwegian airlines are not located next to each other), I discovered that if I made a new reservation on Norwegian air before the plane actually taxied out, I would save about $100. Running to the SAS counter I learned a ticket cost about $150 more than expensive Norwegian flight (but arrived only an hour after I was supposed to arrive). I ran back with my luggage to the Norwegian Air counter and booked the flight before the extra $100 was tagged on.

Sitting down on the bench after charging an enormous sum on the credit card, I took deep gulping breaths and slowly SMS-ed my Finish friends who were planning on picking me up in two hours time. I generally don't text and during this trip, I had already texted about five times. Before leaving the States, I had set the phone up to work in Europe, but never thought about asking for SMS/texting prices. That done, I took more deep breaths, dropped my luggage off at the counter (I was smart enough to borrow a smaller bag from the Solheim's for the short trip), and made my way past security. Where I sat some more and contemplating what I would do for the next four hours of my life while waiting for my plane.

The previous day, one of the fabulous meals I had partaken included dining with Mrs. Solheim's sister, Inga. Inga is a joyous person who not only kept the conversation going, but also lent me a much needed pair of ski pants and short boots. Mrs. Solheim's family lives quite close to each other and can visit often: her brother in the neighboring house, Inga a few km away, and their 101-year old mother just down the street in an elder home. Inga had mentioned she and two of Anne's children (Dr. and Mrs. Solheim's daughter) were going on an ice-fishing trip together the next morning, but would be at the airport after I had already left.

After an hour of waiting about, I finally remembered Inga and "the children" were going to be at the airport after my plane had taken off. I then remembered Mrs. Solheim gave me Inga's number in case I needed it. The ensuing SMS messages confirmed they were on their way and would meet me inside the security gate.

It's not every day you meet friends going traveling elsewhere inside the security gates. I waited at the statue near the bookstore scanning all the people as they made their way into the secure section wondering if I would indeed recognize her or her me (although how many sleep-deprived, worried looking Texans are going to be at the airport anyway that morning). We met up and did quick introductions. I joined them at their gate for a delightful visit. They kept offering me chairs and I kept insisting on the floor (I was really tired of sitting in chairs by that point).

The teens go to an IB (International Baccalaureate) school and are going to be the equivalent of senior and junior year in high school. We talked about classes and grades and course work.... our grade scales are bit opposite of each other so we had fun figuring out what "failure" actually meant. The senior would like to go to Cambridge, the junior isn't quite so sure yet. We talked a lot about college cost and how in America the parents/scholarships/loans are expected to pay for the bulk of the cost. In Norway, the government sponsors most of the education placing a smaller burden on most parents. Keep in mind the tax rate in Norway is rather high including the 23% surcharge on most goods. All too soon after our chat about ice-fishing, school, anime, and food it was time for their plane. I waved them off as they boarded the ramp and went back to the bookstore with a few more hours to go. The visit helped calm nerves and rejuvenate the body, it was turning into a really nice day after the fiasco of a morning.

At the bookstore it occurred to me they had books on Svalbard. After gathering a selection of English-translated books from the front table, I sat on a stool and started to read and research Svalbard and the former Russian outposts. It was a pleasant way to pass the time, all things considered. And I can now say that I've conducted book research at an airport.

Walking back toward my gate, I discovered the Oslo airport has a couple computer terminals set up for passengers. Stopping at an open one, I discovered they were bulky to use, very slow, and had European keyboards with extra letters. I typed a few very short messages on Twitter and then caught my plane.

Scandinavian airplanes look like American airplanes (many are produced by the same companies after all). The biggest difference between their airplanes and ours, is a second passenger door. About 2/3 of the way down the plane is a second entrance to load the back of the plane. The causeway splits into two sections after you enter the tunnel and those in the back rows are asked to enter from the second entrance. It really speeds up the boarding process when you have more than one entry point after check-in.

The plane ride was normal. We pulled out from the gate right on schedule and departed soon after. The ride north offered a view of Norway peaking between the clouds. Everyone had apologized for the light drizzle that misted over the country and couldn't believe I found it charming. Living in Texas, you learn to appreciate water and rain in all it's forms.

We crossed the Arctic circle without incident and continued north toward Tromo. The airline offered food and beverage for sale including: Pringles = 25 NOK, 33cl Coke = 25 NOK, Cheeseburger = 60 NOK, and Hval airbag- kid's sweets = 60 NOK. I learned Fanta is more popular than Coke in Norway, and on the airline Fanta/Sprite = 60 NOK.

Landing in Tromso we waited a few minutes for our gate. Tromo is considered one of Norway's major cities; the airport is a major hub for regional and international flight as it is the largest airport in Northern Norway. That being said, it is still a relatively small airport and it took a few extra minutes for a gate to open.

I made my way to baggage claim trying to remember exactly what the newest borrowed suitcase looked like. I remembered it was blue and I think it had a purple ribbon attached. I also started to wonder where I was going to meet my friends - saying "at the airport" seemed like such a good idea at the time and although I felt the airport was small, all of a sudden the airport was seeming rather large and looming as I waited for my luggage. I stress too much about inconsequential things, soon enough Birger found me and introduced me to his beautiful wife, wonderful child, and their Alabama-born American dog Jimmy - who growled at me. Turns out he growls at just about everyone.... I would spend the next three days reminding him that I too was an American and he had to like me. He didn't think much of that.

June 20, 2010: Oslo

Arriving late in Oslo, I quickly made it to the stop for bus28. The most memorable impression (other than American shops) of the airport is how many languages were being spoken. The Norwegian was easy to pick out as it was the prime language, but others spoke Hindi, French, Dutch, Finish, Swedish, and a smattering of other dialects including the occasional English word. My plane had mainly been comprised of Scandinavian families returning after a holiday abroad. I realized most of the English I was hearing came from words that did not have literal translations - sorta a global Spanglish in Norway.

The bus arrived after a few minutes. Terrified of my pronunciations, I smiled as we put my bags under the bus and I held my piece of paper reading "Nordveien" saying, "I would like to go there". Because I had stopped at the information desk first and discovered the exact price, I had my 210 Krone ready. The bus takes cash or credit (using a credit card in Europe ads a 3% surcharge to each transaction). The bus driver spoke English and he taught me to say it (you drop the "v") as we travelled the hour into town. He also told me a little about Oslo and the neighborhoods that surround her. He mentioned Nordveien is known for its beauty, charm, and elegance.

Outside the airport the land is still lush with farms and gentle rolling hills. The hay bales are covered in white material, making them look like giant pillows. There were few signs of commercial growth, but someday I suspect that will change as more people move toward the city.

At the Nordveien stop, I was greeted by Mrs. Solheim. The Solheim's are long time Norwegian family friends from when Dr. Solheim worked in the Astronomy Dept. at UT when I was a child. We collected my bags and took them to her car parked across the street at the local gas station.

Although the plane was two hours late, pushing my arrival to their house til past noon, we still made plans for the day as we drove back to the house. The neighborhood is elegant with trees ad flowers streaming over the yards.

I learned their house was built by Mrs. Solheims father (and brother) several years ago. It sits on the same property as her brother's house. This house was built with a downstairs apartment complete with bathroom and sitting room. The location was ideal because of growing flowers - the flowers and garden constantly reminded me of my Grandmother's in Ohio.

Lunch was magnificent. I had my first taste of "brown cheese" and reindeer meat while also snacking on a large array of fruit, breads, and crackers. Delightful after a long travel.

Mrs. Solheim gifted me warm socks and a sweater. The green sweater was one she knitted years ago. She took one look at it on me and announced it was another gift because it looked so good on me. I've always loved greens and I'm delighted to say I now own my first Norwegian sweater and it was knitted by a lovely friend.

We decided to see the Viking Museum and the Folk Museum. The Viking Museum has recently opened. Many of the ships inside were used in funerals. I kept thinking how grateful I was the Explorer was going to have covered decks and a dining room while looking at this magnificent vessels that were supposed to stay afloat during storms.

The museum had cases filled with items found during excavation. Some ships had been robbed and the historians have taken guesses on what should have been found. There were many items to admire in the collections. I photographed the dog collar because I thought of my many students who have dogs and the connections we could make in it in the classroom this year.

Norsk Folkemuseum is fabulous. I know there are many things to see in Oslo, but for an idea of who the Norwegian peoples are, the museum gives the history a sense of place. It was like visiting Williamsburg but on a smaller area scale, but with more history. I think the two places should conference together about interactive history and interpretation. The main center hosted a giftshop and exhibit hall, but the real treat was outside on the grounds.

The museum has buildings from the 1200's- present. Everyday living structures used all over the country. The map takes you from one culture region to the next sharing traditional buildings, culture, clothing, music, and food. Many of the buildings had sod with plants/grass growing on the roof. In America, some companies are starting to tout this green movement, where in Norway, people have been doing it since before Columbus.

Tour groups crowded into small structures snapping photos as their guides talked. We walked around them to other sites listening to the docents. All the information is posted in Norweigan with condensed English translations. Mrs. Solheim translated for me what was not posted in English. She also shared stories of her own childhood and visiting relatives in other regions and how their houses/barns were often traditionally made like those found here.

I drank coffee that was very thick and had grounds at the bottom (which I had forgotten about until that last sip where they thickly coated my mouth like a spoonful of fresh dirt) that we ate with a warm lefse (bread) smeared thickly with fresh butter from a c.1650 Grosli Flesberg Numedal farmhouse. Many of the young docents who work at the museum are in college, several have Norwegian-American parents who love both countries and find Texas fascinating. Another home we visited had a young man who plays several musical instruments including an old instrument which sounds like a violin and is played much like a cello.

Leaving the museum, we stopped at the farmers market and picked up fresh mushrooms and strawberries for dinner.

We ate dinner creating a sauce from the fresh mushrooms and strawberries cut and coated with sugar. Delightful meal after a delightful day. We walked around the neighborhood, not noticing the time. Because the sun never fully sets in July, the sky grows warm with shadows, but never a hint of darkness.

Going to sleep that night, I thought about how I was going to be back at the airport in the morning and was my first trip to Oslo really that short with as much as we had accomplished.

July 19-20, 2010: Travel by car, plane, bus

I learned the ABIA (Austin Bergstrom International Airport) looks about the same at 8am as it does at 1pm. I find it depressing not that I know this information, but that I learned it during the same day.

I arrived at the airport with more stuff than I wanted and less stuff then I needed. I would discover this during the day as I went searching for the computer to discover that I had the cords, cables, and everything I needed to make the little Macbook work... except the Mac. I thought I had left it on the bed... turns out it was worse... I left it in the car. I thought of mailing the cables home from New York, but then figured I had no idea how to do that, so they took a trip to the Arctic with me.

At the Austin airport, I checked in at the kiosk and got better seats on the Oslo flight. Checking in is one of those things that just didn't quite happen the night before. For the Newark-Oslo flight I moved from 28A to 14A. The 14-row was previously reserved for upgrading - more legroom, closer to the cabin front... now it was just open. 14A and 14B were open, 14C was unavailable. I figured closer seat, more legroom, and a possible open seat was better than the back.

Security was relatively painless - removing Arctic snow boots inconspicuously is a bit of a challenge, but the FFA officials just smiled like they had seen it all before (which when I asked them... they actually hadn't). They kept making announcements in the airport about staying with your bags and suspicious persons would be checked out - I was shocked they didn't tag me with my coats, hats, stuffed hippo, and snow boots.

At the airport I made a last blitz of phone calls before heading on board. Two Indian women would be my travel companions. They were headed back to India after a visit to the family in Texas. The middle aged daughter was helping her elderly mother who spoke limited English.

Becoming increasingly tired of the captain saying "cross check" and "we'll be just another minute," I closed my eyes for the first time in over a day and took a nap. I woke up about half an hour later, glanced out my window and thought: 1) Wow! We've landed, that was a really short flight. 2) Wait a sec, that's the same truck that was out there when we left Austin. 3) If that's the same truck and that's the same gate.... then we must still be in Austin. Turning to my companion on the right, I asked incredulously... "have we left Austin?" She looked at me strange and said, "No." A few minutes later, our captain came on and said, "Looks like maintenance needs at least another hour, everyone can get off, but take your stuff." Lumbering the carry-on bags and boots, I followed everyone out. The counter was packed with people trying to rearrange flights. I grabbed food from the Austin restaurants (Salt Lick and Mangia) and made more phone calls.

We reboarded the flight, took off, and landed in Newark several hours later than expected and with weather patterns disrupting the Newark flights. We had to wait a while for our gate to open.

At the airport, I had the flight attendants hold the armadillo and hippo for photo shoot. They obliged, but thought it a bit strange. On board, I removed my footwear shoving them in the bin up top shrugging to the other passengers saying, "snow boots, they're hot" and got chuckles. I watched the plane fill and still nobody claimed 14b or 14c.

Half an hour after the captain turned off the fasten seat belt sign, I figured I had given the cabin enough time to rearrange their seats and claim 14c. I scootched over to 14b and had a great flight. I had three seats, my blue Magellan inflate neck pillow, three Continental pillows and blankets. I also had three screens to watch movies, flight info, and play games on. The only thing first class had that I didn't was better food. I napped, watched, and played games the whole time. Who knew that Arsenic and Old Lace went so well with Ice Age!

Landing in Oslo a few hours late, I wanted the trip to start. Collecting my luggage, I noticed many passengers in tank tops and flip flops. I once more felt really out of place.

Turning on the cell phone was equally unreal. The phone had changed from Central to Eastern while in Newark, but wouldn't convert to Norweigian time at all. I would have to add six hours for local time or subtract one hour for home time during the trip - or so it looked.

Information helped direct me to the bus loop where I would catch Bus28 into the city and friends.

Travail(ing) to Norway and home. August 2010

As many of you know, "travail" simply means working hard usually with some pain or trouble thrown into the mix. Traveling is never easy, usually it ends up involving some travail-ing material along the way. This trip would prove no exception.

Somehow when you make plans and your just looking at air tickets and traffic control, it doesn't seem so bad. But when you have to return to the airport again and again, you start to think that perhaps you should have made friends the first time with the security guards or at least shop keeper. But that is the power of travel - lost connections and new opportunities around hidden corners.

The thing you have to remember is karma exsists and it bites you in the behind (often). It also opens new doors. As humans we have to accept presented challanges and press onward. It really is how you enjoy the experience.

All I can say is I have now spent as much time in the Oslo airport as I have in the Cleveland airport (and I've been going to Cleveland my entire life).

I'm sorry I couldn't blog, tweet, or e-mail much from the road. Due to lack of time, lack of power outlets, and lack of computer (we'll get to that)... there just wasn't much of an opportunity.

I hope you enjoy my trip to Norway... I'll be writing posts about it for the next few days...

Last Day!

July 18, 2010
2:30 pm CST

It's the last day before the trip. I have clothing, I have footwear, I have a GPS unit for the camera that isn't working!!! I also don't have time to fix the GPS unit, sadness takes place in all forms.

My friend Elizabeth was kind enough to drive around Hutto this morning and take pictures of me by hippos and corn fields. We even found hay bales as a bonus. I learned snow boots get super hot, super fast in the morning heat. The sunflowers are beautiful and there were still a few Indian Paintbrushes scattered in the ground.

I've been reading up on my arctic birds - and find that I can't keep them straight. Hopefully on the plane tomorrow.

Speaking of planes - what essentials am I forgetting about that I'll need?

Pre-Packing.

July 17, 2010

At this time I am done purchasing clothing for the trip. If I don't have it, I'll buy it in Norway. I have more long underwear than a girl from Texan has a right to own (four pairs), and snow boots that make me feel like an astronaut preparing for a moon walk. I have hats from friends and family that should keep me warm including a pair of earmuffs. My gloves are set. I'll feel like a Victorian lady as I switch my gloves out five times a day. I'm going to need to switch my gloves out five times a day - they are going to get wet and need to dry. My family and friends have set me up!
It this time I'm planning on wearing the Arctic snow boots on the plane. I'm thinking a pair of flip-flops to get through security is going to be easier or is the FFA use to people toppling the line of people as someone struggles to remove a boot. The boot has a pull tab for easy removal.
My neck pillow arrived in the mail. I'll try to remember to put it in the carry-on bag. It's not going to do me any good if I have it in checked bags.

First Post...

Hi and Welcome. I teach, I write... on good days I get to teach and write at the same time. I teach 6th graders World Cultures. We spend a lot of time on how great our planet is. We also talk about how awesome the universe at large is. Our paths continue to cross using lines of longitude and latitude. It's pretty cool like that.