The Fourth of July

July 4th

Gail and I flew to Norway the evening of The Fourth of July.  We had a bargain airfare on Norwegian Airlines.  Later we were informed by our hosts that Norwegian Air always was a bargain.  And that we probably could have waited a day and paid the same price.  But the price looked great to us at the time.  So we took it.  Off to Oslo we went.

A young Buddhist from Poland sat next to us on the 787.  He'd been traveling in America, attending a variety of Buddhist camps and conventions.  It was time for him to start work in England.  He'd earned an economics degree in Poland.  His job was in finance, at a firm in London.  A week earlier the U.K. had voted to leave the European Union.  The young man was a little unclear about how all that was going work out.  Right at the moment, he was most concerned about the takeoff being delayed.  He didn't want to miss the Boston Fireworks show.

It turned out we caught the fireworks after all.  We saw them in the distance as the plane headed out over the Atlantic.  The flight was a little late arriving in Norway, but nothing serious.  The crew resembled the way it works on a cruise ship.  The pilot and the officers all were Norwegians.  The stewards were Malaysian.  Our hosts in Norway explained later that if you want the knock-out blondes you need to book SAS.  It didn't matter to us.  It was a red-eye and we slept most of the way.

We gained a quick education about the Schengen Area at the Oslo airport.  The Buddhist carried an EU passport and sailed right through.  For the most part everyone else lined up for an interview with a security officer.  The group in front of us was from the Middle East.  That conversation took a while.  Then it was our turn.  "Why are you in Norway?"  I started to say "vacation."  Gail beat me to the punch.  "My husband has relatives here.  We're going to visit them.  He's never been here before.  We really are looking forward to meeting everybody!"

"Ramsley is not a Norwegian name."

That wasn't enough to hold us on.  But it made you wonder.  I shrugged my shoulders and told him, "What do I know.  I'm an American."  The security officer gave a dim look and shrugged his shoulders too.  Then away we went.

Strangers in a Strange Land

July 5th

Oslo International Airport is 50 kilometers out of town.  That seemed like an expensive cab ride.  So Gail and I decided to hop the train.  We didn't rent a car the entire time we were away.  This is Europe!  Nobody drives . . . .  At least that's what we thought.  Actually, nobody does seem to drive in Oslo.  Once we arrived in the city there were a handful of cars coming and going.  But it was a great place for pedestrians and bicycles.  We read that most of the heavy traffic took place underground in a series of tunnels.  Outside of Oslo, I think everybody drives despite the nonsensical gasoline prices - $7.00 a gallon compared with $2.25 in the United States.  Gail is more of a sentimentalist.  She lived in Europe growing up and rode around on a Eurorail Pass.  She's a big believer in trains.

So yes.  We took the train from the airport.  It took a while to get going.  Gail punched her credit card into the Flytoget ticket machine.  Wouldn't work.  I put mine in.  No dice with that one either.  In America, you just use your credit card.  Who needs a PIN unless you withdraw cash at an ATM machine.  Both of us have ATM cards that work in every cash machine in America.  In Norway you need that PIN for credit cards too.  It turned out later I could have used my ATM card to buy the train tickets.  But we were a little spooked at that point.  We went to the counter.  That turned out to be for the "local" train.  It went to the same place -- Oslo S -- but had one more stop along the way.  But tickets were 100 kroner apiece instead of 200 with Flytoget.  Well, you don't get to become a high powered hedge fund manager by throwing away 200 kroners for nothing!  We took the local.

At the train station I insisted on buying some local currency.  I was paid a market price for my $100.  But there was a 50 kroner service charge.  Kind of like the stock market.  Gail thought I was being stupid.  Everyone said there was no reason to carry cash in Norway.  Our credit cards have chips in them.  So they would work.  And every store took them.  Before I bought the cash, though, I'd tried to go to the bathroom in the train station.  Ten kroners.  No cards.  "I'm getting some cash!"

Our hotel was near the train station, a few blocks from Karl Johans Gate.  Gail figured out the language better than I did.  She knew the names.  I visualized where everything was.  Oslo has a pretty simple layout.  After we settled in at our hotel we walked straight to the new Opera House.  It's world famous.  Designed by a leading architectural company right down the street.  We climbed to the top, explored inside, and listened to gypsies play a combination of soulful melodies and American show tunes on their accordions out front.  What caught my eye, besides the beautiful building itself, was the gigantic construction project unfolding across the street.  We couldn't understand the sign out front.  Later it was explained to us that the new government was creating a retail-commercial-residential complex with a big emphasis on student housing.  Pretty good digs!

We toured the main sights the rest of the afternoon.  It began raining when we reached the Cathedral.  We popped into a coffee shop nearby.  Gail figured out the menu.  I just wanted a basic cup of coffee.  I ordered an Americana.  Gail bought a latte.  "Take away?"  No.  It was raining.  We stayed inside.  But it cost an extra 12% for the privilege.  This time my credit card worked.  But without a PIN I had to sign for every purchase the next two weeks.  (Who checks those signatures?)  After the rain died down we trooped up to the Palace, then back down Karl Johan's to the Grand Cafe.  The food was great.  But 130 kroners for a beer struck me as a little steep.  Turns out, that's what a beer costs in Norway.  At least during tourist season!

Bygdoy

July 6th

Eating out in Oslo is expensive.  Our hotel provided free breakfast.  That was a good deal from an economic standpoint.  It was even better in terms of cuisine.  Each morning I piled up heaps of smoked salmon alongside eggs and toast and bacon and coffee.  Gail ate more sensibly.  But even she was filled up by the time we got rolling.  We both slept great, too.  Neither one of us understood what we were looking at when we first entered our room.  Two comforters were folded mysteriously on our bed.  We didn't know what they were at first.  Turns out, it was a great innovation.  Gail didn't have to fight for the covers all night.

We hiked down to City Hall to begin the day.  We joined a group for a guided tour, which included the history of the building and Oslo itself.  Construction began after Norway became independent in 1905.  The work was interrupted during World War Two.  The murals reflected the occupation, although many of the paintings went far back in time and included a bunch of mythology too.  The young hipster who led the tour was entertaining and taught us quite a bit about Norway's past.

From there we hopped over to the docks and boarded a transport to Bygdoy.  We might have saved a kroner or two by taking the bus system.  I can't figure out the bus system in Boston, let alone one that's written in Norwegian.  Most of the passengers disembarked and headed straight to the Viking Museum.  We decided to start with the Folk Museum.  That really was a trip back through time.  We toured a stave church and a number of restored farm houses and barns going all the way back into early 1700s.  Seeing those helped us understand what Ramselia was all about when we visited there a few days later.  The guides were in costume and answered whatever we asked.  Music and dance performances sprang up throughout the property.  There also was an interesting modern exhibit that revealed how city life changed during the twentieth century.

Then we walked to the Viking Museum.  That was less of an extravaganza.  But it contained two full size Viking ships that gave us an idea of how they operated.  It wasn't until we reached Iceland later in our trip that we learned who the Vikings actually were.  According to that story, in the 8th to 11th centuries Norwegians would pass down their farms to the oldest son.  Any younger sons had to find some other way to earn a living.  Some joined the Vikings, which was essentially a business organization -- not a nationality.  Evidently, there is no evidence anywhere that Vikings wore helmets with horns on them.  That is a Walt Disney invention.

Another walk took us to the Kon-Tiki Museum.  We passed a beautiful neighborhood along the way.  One house had a red clay tennis court with a couple of hotshots going at it.  I'm a tennis player.  So that caught my eye.  The museum had the actual Kon-Tiki boat inside.  Plus another ship that Thor Heyerdahl sailed from Africa to Barbados.  Anthropologists doubt that either scenario took place in reality.  The boats themselves were spectacular to look at, particularly the engineering.  And while these days trips like that are a dime a dozen, in 1947 the expedition carried considerable risk.  The excitement rubbed off on us.

The Fram Museum was next door.  That held the actual ship used to explore the North Pole, then Antarctica too.  The ship itself was fascinating.  We were allowed to walk through the entire thing.  The trips north were complicated and hard to fathom.  There were written explanations but this was one place where a human guide would have been great.  The Fram was incredibily strong, designed to withstand the pressures created by a sea of ice.  The idea, from what I could gather, was to get caught in a glacier and ride it north.

Back in the harbor, Gail and I ate dinner at Lekter'n Lounge in the Aker Brygge section.  The restaurant sat on a barge and gave us great views of the harbor.  And of the thousands of people enjoying the area.  Our waitress attended college in Oslo.  She was from Italy originally.  Almost everyone spoke excellent English.  Even though most were pretty young they all seemed to have spent time in America, Australia, or other parts of Europe.  The ones from America knew the slang better than we do!  Let's hope the Brexit doesn't put a crimp in that mobility.

Le Tour de Oslo

July 7th

Gail and I  started Thursday in different directions.  She spent the morning at the Museum of Contemporary Art.  I went on a bike tour.  The night before I had walked from our hotel to a convenience store to get some snacks.  I passed the "Viking Bike Tours" office along the way.  It was after 8:00 pm.  But Curtis was still there, working.  He's an American.  He owns the company.  Normally he'd be out of there at 6:00 pm with the rest.  But that night he was wrapping everything up, preparing to go on vacation with his Norwegian wife.  To Arendal.  They have a getaway there on one of the islands.

Curtis first went to Europe to play tennis on the satellite tour.  That was 15 years ago.  Back then he probably was No. 500 in the world.  Which in that sport means "Forget about it.  Go back to school."  He earned a law degree; worked for the United Nations, helping refugees; then met and married a beautiful Norwegian girl -- is there another kind?  Curtis had one spot left for the Thursday morning tour.  The afternoon was sold out.  That didn't bother me.  The afternoon trip went downtown.  Gail and I had already seen those sights.  The one I was going on went through the up-and-coming hipster district -- Grunerlokka.

The trip along the Akers River was spectacular.  Curtis explained how the industrialists used water power to drive their factories in the 1800s.  The brick buildings now hold trendy condominiums, restaurants, and software companies.  Even back then, everybody worked.  Schools and day care facilities were part of the operation.  Norwegian women don't stay home.  Today even Curtis is paid a year's paternity leave by the government.  Then it's back to work.  According to him if you work six months in Norway you're in the system -- health care, pensions, education, the works.  His kids are young and attend day care.  They spend lots of time outdoors.  They even take their naps outside.  The statistics suggests all that fresh air makes Norwegians more healthy than any other group on earth.  Plus they learn how to ski when they're three years old.  (In Arizona 3 year olds learn to ride horses.)

Gail and I spent the afternoon in Vigeland Park.  It was a few miles from the hotel.  By then, we were looking for excuses to walk.  Gail had activated her iPhone's pedometer.  We were shooting for 8 miles a day.  We passed the National Theater, Parliament, and National Gallery on the way.  That route took us around the Palace towards the U.S. Embassy.  As we marched along a large group of Middle Easterners cascaded out of a building and began to march themselves, chanting in Arabic.  We crossed to the other side of the street.  The printed fliers were in Norwegian.  That didn't help us much.  A pedestrian was kind enough to translate.  Apparently it was a group of Kurds intending to demonstrate in front of the American Embassy.  We were gone before they arrived there, picking up the pace towards Vigeland.  The complaint had to do with whatever the heck is taking place in Syria these days.

We took a different route on our return trip from Vigeland.  We went through a very fancy neighborhood bordering the Palace.  Gail has an eye for Teslas, Elon Musk's souped up electric car.  She'd seen a black one driving downtown the first day.  Then she saw it by the Bygdoy museums.  Here it was again.  Both of us started to get the idea that maybe there was more than one Tesla in Norway.  Looking on the Internet that night we discovered that, next to America, Norway has more Teslas than any country in the world.

Adventures in Arendal

July 8th

Norwegians will do anything for their guests.  At least the ones we know.  On Friday Gail and I checked out and took the train to Arendal.  To meet the relatives.  Gunnar Ravnasen and Laila Riber had been in regular contact with us since April.  They coordinated the planning, making sure everything went well.

Laila and her husband Per Gunnar met us at the train station.  We drove from there to the Clarion, our hotel.  Unbeknownst to us Laila had upgraded our room before we arrived.  It was a great corner spot with fantastic views of the harbor.  The weather was drizzly as Gail and I unpacked.  Right on cue the clouds parted and the sun emerged.  We all took a quick walk around the neighborhood, then PG asked, "Want to take a boat ride?"  He had steamed over earlier and met up with Laila downtown.  Down to the docks we went.

The winds were a little heavy.  So we stayed inside the harbor.  Laila had packed coffee and treats.  After traveling all afternoon those hit the spot.  Per Gunnar focused on the coffee.  We didn't give it much thought until he began joking that Norwegians drink coffee all the time.  As time went on Gail and I began to notice that was an understatement.  Decaf is not a choice in Norway.

Then it was dinner time.  Gunnar arrived right on schedule.  We took a table by the window, looking out at the water.  The fun and jokes began.  Gunnar is a retired teacher.  Everybody thinks Norway's schools are fabulous and the children are great and everything is peaches and cream.  It was people like Gunnar who make that image possible.  Gunnar was in charge of the problem students, the ones we used to call juvenile delinquents in America.  (That term may return if Donald Trump wins.)  It was an unusually challenging job.  Those kids often had trouble at home or emotional problems that make teaching next to impossible.  Gunnar prevailed with hard work, charm, and a clever sense of humor.  He was the life of this party.  He probably is the life of every party he goes to.

We covered a lot of ground at dinner.  Then we re-assembled in a private room.  Gunnar explained all the family relationships.  He even had a spreadsheet that displayed where everybody stood in the family tree.  My father was Norweigan.  He was born in America.  His parents met in Norway, moved to America during World War One, and settled in northern New Jersey ("Bergen County").  My grandfather Kristoffer built houses for a living.  Marthe did the books and worked outside the home.  My father attended college.  After serving in World War Two he earned a masters degree and became a scientist.  My parents visited Norway in the 1990s.  Gunnar took charge of that visit as well.  He confided that he was a little peeved with my father since he had to speak English the entire time.  Alvin really was named Oberth.  He could get along just fine in Norwegian!

That was not the case with me.  Gail picked up the language well.  German words.  English grammar.  She threw around words and phrases like it was nothing.  I had trouble with the language.  Good thing I had her around!

Laila and Gunnar planned the entire weekend.  Down to the smallest detail.  It was a huge amount of work.  It still seems amazing it all went so perfectly.  They said, "It's just Facebook."  Gail and I know better.  We had the time of our lives!

Ramselia

July 9th

Or is it "Ramslien?"  The history is unclear.  My grandfather Kristoffer grew up on a farm about 40 miles from Lauvrak.  His father died when he was young.  The family kept the farm for a while.  Another barn was built.  The main house was expanded.  But the location was remote.  It was miles to the church and school, and difficult to conduct business from.  Kristoffer left after finishing high school.  Nobody knows for sure but the best guess is he landed a job at Lauvrak.  There he met Marthe.  And fell in love with the farmer's daughter.  They went to America.  Several of Kristopher's brothers and sisters also left Norway.  The farm was sold after World War One.  It was re-sold a few times after that.  The records are gone.  Today the place is abandoned.  Nobody knows for sure what the original name was.  That side of the family has scattered.

Laila and Gunnar organized the quest.  Find Ramselia!  A "Raiders of the Lost Ark" adventure.  Gunnar wore a "USA" baseball cap instead of the safari hat Harrison Ford used in the movie.  Laila showed her support with a red-white-and-blue tee shirt.  A few months earlier Gunnar and his pal Sven had scouted the area.  They'd been there before, back when my father visited.  That was decades ago.  The property had changed hands again.  A new situation.  A gate blocked the entry road.  The intrepid pair were undeterred.  They tracked down the trolls who owned the key.  Negotiations were conducted.  Arrangements were made.

Our expedition began Saturday morning.  Gail and I rode with Gunnar and his wife Else Gerd.  Sven, Oddvar, Olav Arthur, Gunhild Marie, Laila, and Per Gunnar followed in two cars. We drove down a long dirt road, onto a highway, then down a winding back road.  Until we reached the trolls.  (Actually they are auto mechanics.)  A few words were spoken.  A key changed hands.  Then to the gate.  Which opened.  And led us onto another dirt road.  Gunnar stopped after a few miles where a pair of overgrown tracks led off into the woods.  Gunnar and Sven knew where they went.  "Follow us!"

A half mile in we reached Ramselia.  We first saw the main barn, now in disrepair.  Then the white farm house, which the auto mechanics had plans for.  It had a new roof.  The house was locked.  We were not allowed in.  We could see through the windows.  It resembled the house I grew up in back in America.  Which also had a barn.  Coincidence?  Yes actually.  My family moved there in 1958, 35 years before my father ever saw Ramselia.  (Maybe it's in the genes.)  Another barn stood around back.  A third, smaller one, was built along the trail leading in.  Sven explained how the various fields might have looked a hundred years ago.  The surrounding area sure is beautiful today.

Laila and Else Gerd unveiled a delicious picnic.  Olav Arthur might have been thinking about that night's soccer match between France and Germany.  But he probably was soaking up the history of the place, just like the rest of us.  The trip to the Folk Museum helped Gail and me to appreciate the architecture and the logic behind the way everything was built.  The barn that stored feed was on stilts to keep the critters out.  The cattle stalls were approached by earthen ramps.  Everything made sense.

It had to have been a hard life despite the fertile soil and plentiful forests.  That only became more difficult after Kristoffer's father passed away.  His mother must have been a determined woman.  From what we know she expanded the place and made it more profitable before retiring.  Ramselia remained a working farm until the 1950s.  The trolls bought it only recently.  We can't predict what they're up to.  Work is underway.  Vehicles are on site.  Some scheme is in mind.  Good luck boys!

Lauvrak

July 9th

Lauvrak was a prosperous farm 100 years ago.  It remains in great shape.  Olav is the patriarch these days.  We went to visit him after the excursion to Ramselia.  The original plan was to have a party there with all the relatives.  The weather forecast foiled that idea.  Rain was predicted.  Laila and Gunnar scrambled onto Facebook the night before, postponing the big gathering until Sunday.  Still, we had to pass right by Lauvrak on our return trip.  The eight of us decided to pay our respects to Olav along the way.

Olav and his family were gracious hosts.  They led us on a tour of their wonderful house.  It stands on a hill, surveying the valley below.  There were horses.  Several other houses dotted the property.  The farm spans a thousand acres.  A large barn is adjacent to Olav's home.  With a twinkle in his eye he led us inside.  It isn't used any more.  It was dark.  We worked our way carefully to the rear.  The beams supporting the structure had been coated years before to prevent fire and reinforce the strength.  Olav scrutinized several of them.  "Aha!"  He called us over.  Adam and Eve probably signed their names on a rock or whatever else was available in the Garden.  It's a tradition that will never end.  Olav pointed.  "Here's where your grandmother signed her name.  When she was growing up."  There was no date.  Olav guessed it happened around 1900.

The show wasn't over yet.  We haven't even mentioned the trip to the cemetery that Gunnar arranged before the expedition began.  Or the stop at the stone sculpture one of our ancestors had carved.  Or the interview with the local newspaper editor.  Or the front page story he published.  It was a heck of a day.  Yet another surprise lay in store.

Else Gerd prepared a spectacular dinner.  Gunnar, Gail and I relaxed outside as she put everything together.  We reminisced about the day.  And how things were different from when my father had seen Ramselia.  Gunnar introduced us to his new neighbors.  Refugees from Syria.  They're well educated but still getting acclimated.  Gunnar has a soft spot for the underdogs.  It's not as though he never gets riled up.  As we sauntered through his back yard he suddenly reached for a trowel and began slicing a swarm of grubs into pieces.  Don't mess with the garden!

Reindeer was the main course.  It tasted phenomenal.  We had potatoes and vegetables too.  Those I have eaten before.  The reindeer was a new delight.  It was either four helpings or five.  I can't remember exactly.  But it was a lot.  Then Else Gerd served another Norwegian specialty for dessert -- "riskrem."  Another hit!  It was a long day.  Else Gerd made sure we ended with a flourish.

Family Time

July 10th

Sunday afternoon the clan descended on Froland.  A meeting house was reserved for what became a pretty large party.  Those places are a Norwegian tradition.  They are a community center available to whoever wants to use them, at little or no charge.  It had a kitchen, large dining room, and plenty of parking.  Norwegians must be a punctual group.  Everybody rolled in right on schedule at 4:00 pm.  Some of the cars were relatively unique.

The Lauvraks today are a far flung family.  We visited during Norway's vacation season.  Laila estimated half the people who could have come were gallivanting around Europe and not available.  Some that did drove from far away.  While Gail and I provided an excuse to rally, everyone enjoyed the opportunity to see each other.  They all don't come together very often.  It turned into a fun reunion.  These are the cousins!

A hundred years ago Norwegians had large families.  Over time the age variations grew increasingly wide.  Laila is 15 years younger than me.  My father was 31 years older.  They were direct cousins.  During the party I had to keep scratching my head, trying to fathom which generation was which.  I gave up after a while.  (More cousins.)

We had another fine feast.  This time Gunnar's daughter Ingunn did the honors, orchestrating the dinner.  I should have snapped a picture of all the guys taking these pictures.  That was another group in itself.  The family appears to be in good hands.  The next generation -- Ida, Isabel, Jenny, and Natalie -- all wore their party dresses!

Laila and Per Gunnar entertained us before the party.  Their children Eline and Thomas were polite to join.  They offered a look into what it's like to grow up in Norway today.  Thomas joined the armed forces after graduating from high school.  He served for a year.  Thomas plans to become a professional engineer like his father.  He starts graduate school in the fall.  Eline declined to follow the military route.  She will be studying music next year before going off to college in 2017.  Espsen (middle), who we were unable to meet, is up north in Ulsteinvik.  He is out of school, working on the refugee situation.

Meanwhile - Back in America

July 10th

Gail's brothers Peter and Rob live near Minneapolis.  They lived in Chicago when Gail was growing up.  Her father transferred to Europe for two years during the 1960s.  He worked for a multinational corporation.  They returned to America after that assignment ended.  Gail eventually attended college in New York City.  The brothers remained in the Midwest.  It wasn't cold enough for them in Chicago.  They moved farther north to Minneapolis where they could hunt, go ice fishing, ski, and generally live like a Norwegian.

Gail's niece Annie gave birth to Alex while we were in Arendal.  She lives near Minneapolis too.  Everybody becomes excited when a new member of the family arrives.  That was especially true this time.  Alex is the first child in the next generation!

Annie and Bakhari own a house in St. Paul.  Minneapolis and St. Paul are called the Twin Cities. They are right beside each other.  St. Paul is Minnesota's state capital.  Bakhari is a computer engineer downtown.  The couple were married in 2013.

Gail and I have two children.  Jake is an engineer at Onshape in Cambridge, next to Boston.  The company is disrupting the Computer Aided Design industry with a modern cloud based software architecture.  Eric writes for the technology website "Wonder How To."  He also lives in Massachusetts.

My brother Ken lives in the Boston suburbs.  He genuinely is a "rocket scientist."  He used to design space satellites.  Several years ago he switched gears to teach and conduct research at Brown University.  His wife Sue is a clinical specialist who runs her own mental health practice.  Their son Christopher is a computer programmer in Boston.  He focuses on graphics and video game design.

Ken recently published a series of science fiction stories.  They are available on Amazon.  Here is the link:  http://www.amazon.com/Ken-Ramsley/e/B00BE9P3XK

Tromoy

July 11th

Each morning after breakfast I went to "Fresh," the local health club.  The first day I barely got in.  The facility is fully automated.  Eventually I figured out how to activate the lock.  The people inside all wondered what I was doing.  I walked from the hotel in my workout clothes.  That proved to be a mistake too.  Everybody else carried a second pair of shoes.  They left one at the front desk and went to the changing room in their socks.  The machines looked the same as the ones I used in America.  I regaled Gail about the great workouts I was getting.  I was burning calories twice as fast as I normally did at home.  All the machines ask for your weight before you start.  I'd punch in 150 pounds, just like I always do.  In Norway the machines are calibrated in metric.  They thought I pushing around 150 kilograms (or 330 pounds).

Gail followed a more conventional regimen.  She walked around the town, enjoying the sights.  On Monday she passed a building with a big "T" on it.  Gail thought it was the train office.  We were scheduled to return to Oslo that afternoon.  She popped in to make sure everything was correct.  The "T" actually referred to "tourist."  It was a volunteer organization that encouraged use of the hiking trails in the area.  Gail tried to buy a pair of hiking caps as souvenirs for our boys.  Her credit card failed to work.  She didn't have any cash.

Laila and Per Gunnar picked us up in their SUV at eleven o'clock.  The plan was to visit Tromoy, a neighboring island.  We stopped at the "T" store along the way.  I gave the volunteer my card this time.  That didn't work either.  The system was down!  I had some cash remaining.  But it was 50 kroner less than the price of the hats.  I offered to make up the difference with a $10 U.S. bill.  "We don't want that."  Like it was poison.  He did accept the kroners even though I was 50 short.  That got me back to even, offsetting the service fee I paid originally for my currency exchange.

Bruno led the charge on our walk in Tromoy.  Per Gunnar donned a New York Yankees baseball cap.  Europeans view those things as "American cool."  I come from Boston.  New York is our arch enemy, at least when it comes to sports.  The Evil Empire   We joked about it at the time.  Make no mistake.  I did send PG a "New England Patriots" cap after I returned home.

There were couple of stylish restaurants Laila hoped to take us to for lunch.  They were closed on Monday.  So we retreated to the harbor in Arendal.  That's a fashionable place itself.  Then it was off to the train station.  Our once in a lifetime visit drew to a close.

The ride back to Oslo was more eventful than expected.  A lightening storm knocked out the power for a stretch.  We had to take a bus to the next station.  Then find the right train to complete the trip.  Most of the directions were issued in Norwegian.  We weren't phased by that any more.  Gail and I made it back and checked into a hotel right next to Oslo S, the city's main train station.  We had an off day scheduled for Tuesday.  On Wednesday, though, we were headed for the fjords!

Grunerlokka

July 12th

I biked through Grunerlokka the first time we were in Oslo.  That's the up-and-coming district that housed water powered factories in the 1800s.  Local boosters now term it Oslo's "Greenwich Village."  Gail and I decided to take a closer look on foot.  We veered west after stopping at our favorite coffee shop near the Cathedral.  Few of the streets were straight.  Same as Boston.  Most were empty too.  Norwegians enjoy a collective vacation in July.  Many people already had skipped town.  Of the ones we did see, quite a few were loading up their cars.  Gail and I climbed a series of steep hills.  Finally we reached Var Frelsers cemetery,  That's where the politicians and other famous folk are buried.  We don't know the history very well.  And the monuments were inscribed in Norweigan, hard for us to understand.  The grounds were beautifully maintained.  Gail did spot some of the artists' graves, including Henrik Ibsen.  She's an art history major.

We descended back to the Akers River.  Then it was uphill again, past three increasingly large waterfalls.  This section of town was full of people.  The path was packed with bikes and walkers.  Sunbathers filled the nearby lawns.  Young mothers pushed strollers up the steep hills, earning quite a workout in the process.  Part way up we spotted a landmark of sorts.  A group of former grain silos had been converted into student housing a few years ago.  Story has it that many of the beds are curved to fit the shape of the walls.  The best parties in Oslo are on the roof decks.

We stopped at Olaf Ryes Plass on the way back.  It's one of many parks in the area.  This one is surrounded by trendy shops and restaurants.  The place was packed with locals and tourists alike.  Gail and I had been told the prices were lower than downtown.  The locals probably know where those places are.  In the square it was business as usual.

A few places remained on our to-do list.  Gail and I knocked them off in the afternoon.  The Akershus Fortress stands on a high ridge and offers great views of the harbor.  The Danes reinforced the complex in the 1600s after they took over.  It originally was built in 1299.  Enemy ships had no chance getting past.

The Resistance Museum was on the fortress grounds.  It told the story of the German occupation in great detail.  The Nazis invaded Norway with a blitzkrieg strike in 1940.  The ill-prepared army bought time for the king and navy to escape to England.  But the official battle ended in a matter of weeks.  The underground took charge after that.  Germany devoted an unusually large amount of resources to Norway.  As many as 300,000 troops were assigned.  Hitler needed harbors to attack American supply ships in the Atlantic.  Scandinavia also was a major source of iron ore.

Several members of the Lauvrak clan participated in the Resistance.  Bjorn, Oddvar, and Gunnar described their escapades.  Their fathers and uncles hauled weapons and ammunition from air drop sites, with Germans at their heels.  Skis proved faster than boots.  Nobody was caught.  They also relayed troop movement and other intelligence to the Allies.  British paratroops were escorted to military targets.

The Germans confiscated 50%-60% of Norway's industry during the war.  The occupation also eliminated key trading routes.  Incomes collapsed as a result.  Widespread hardship was endured.  The Germans offered a variety of bribes to enlist the citizens' cooperation.  The Quisling government was soundly rejected.  After the American invasion of Normandy in 1944 hopes surged that a similar operation would follow in Norway.  Hitler never really reduced his forces there.  The Americans just went straight to Berlin..

Norway abandoned its neutrality after World War Two.  It became one of America's most reliable NATO partners.  Hitler was generally correct about needing naval access to the Atlantic.  After NATO was established Norway made it difficult for Russia to get its ships in and out of the Barents Sea.  If push ever comes to shove Norway still could halt the Soviet fleet in its tracks.

The Fjords

July 13th

We woke up at the crack of dawn Wednesday.  Which is pretty early in summer.  Our hotel was part of the train station complex.  The courtyard below was deserted.  A few hours before it was jam-packed.  Gail and I grabbed some breakfast and brought it with us to the "Norway in a Nutshell" train.  Our trip to the fjords departed at 6:00 am.

We stopped in Myrdal, halfway across Norway.  Most of way the train was practically empty.  Then in Geilo a ton of mountain bikers jumped on.  The region is a skiing destination in winter.  A vast network of dirt roads and trails were created when the railway originally was built, to move men and machines in and out.  Today they are some of the most scenic and challenging bike routes in the world.  In Myrdal we switched to a specially engineered mountain train with five braking systems.  It worked its way down through a series of ravines towards the waters below.  The train stopped several times along the way, letting everyone take pictures of the astounding scenery.  An ancient tradition played out at one in particular.  A siren tried to lure the men to a dangerous waterfall, where many were said to have met their demise in the past.  Luckily the tour operators had built a fence to keep us from falling for it again.

The fjord tour boat left from Flam.  The town itself has become a tourist destination.  But the fjords obviously remain the main attraction.  Our trip took us through Fjord 1 and Sognefjorden.  Those are considered to be the two most dramatic fjords in Norway.  Glaciers carved them out during the Ice Age.  The mountains soar a mile above the water, sometimes higher.  Waterfalls cascade down the sides.  Several small towns dot the shore line.  One headquarters a gigantic energy complex, which we couldn't get a glimpse of.  Kings, nobles, and prime ministers of all stripes used to sail up and down the fjords, admiring the beauty and searching out business opportunities.  It's deep water.  Depths exceed a mile in some places.  Norway's western fjords combine to make a complex network that feeds into the Atlantic.  If Gail and I had our own boat, like Per Gunnar, we simply could have sailed to Bergen.

Most people say the highlight of their trip to Norway is seeing the fjords.  Gail and I admit they are great.  Mother Nature has a lot going for her.  But even she can't compete with the time we had in Arendal and Froland.

Bergen

July 14th

Gail and I reached Bergen Wednesday night.  Our final train ride.  The next morning we toured Bryggen, the city's historic district.  A guide ferried us through several museums along the harbor.  She is an historian who came from Germany, and now teaches at a nearby university.  The entire quarter has been restored using medieval techniques.  Walking through it all provided a true sensation of how things evolved over time.

Bergen was a fishing center in the 1300s.  There were abundant cod and other high value catches.  But no export markets had been created.  The economy operated below its potential.  The Germans swooped into Bergen around that time.  The city became one of four primary trading centers in the Hanseatic League.  That was a commercial enterprise that operated beyond any state's authority.  It had its own regulations and policies.  It also maintained its own security forces.  The Germans purchased the local fishermen's catch, processed it, and traded it with England, Germany, Russia, and other parts of Europe for grain, clothing, and other products.  The League dominated Europe's economy into the 1700s and remained operational until late in the 1800s.

The museums showed how it all worked in great detail.  The buildings were carefully restored.  Accounting records were displayed.  Living quarters held numerous artifacts.  Our guide explained how the Germans kept to themselves.  Fraternization with the locals was prohibited.  Over time some of the Germans married into the Norwegian culture.  Today the Bergen population is full of people with German heritage.  The local authorities began taxing the Hanseatic League in the 1700s.  The military grew strong enough to enforce payment.  Ultimately the king took over the business altogether.

Gail and I toured the rest of the city in the afternoon.  We were able to re-enter the museums.  That gave us a closer look at the artifacts.  We also visited the castle which abutted Bryggen.  The fortress protected the harbor.  It also was used by the nobles in later years to threaten the Germans, ensuring collection of taxes.  Downtown Bergen isn't a large place even though it is Norway's second largest city.  Much commerce and industry has sprawled into the countryside.  Gail and I checked out the fish market, several parks and squares, and quite a few historical buildings.  Then we returned to Bryggen for a late lunch.

"Are you from the Tucson Racquet Club?"  People go to great lengths to escape the Arizona heat in summer.  Ellen, who belongs to the same health club as me, asked me that in front of the Hanseatic Museum.  Small world!  Ellen and her daughter had just finished climbing up and down the local mountain.  Most tourists take the funicular.  Being exercise aficionados, they had hiked it.  We compared notes and promised to catch up in the fall back in Tucson.

Reykjavik

July 15th

We left Bergen for Reykjavik on Friday.  Gail and I were greeted with the standard weather pattern -- rain, clouds, and cool temperatures.  The locals brush that off and cruise the city like it's nothing.  Tourists typically fall into line.  "When in Reykjavik do as the Reykjaviks do."  We didn't go quite that far.  Despite temperatures in the low 60s there was a big turnout for an outdoor slip-and-slide.  Children lined up all day in their bathing suits.  Gail and I are not that tough.  We threw on a jacket and hat.  Getting around was a challenge.  While Gail could follow the street signs in Norway this language was incomprehensible.  There also was new money to learn.  Fortunately the people all spoke perfect English.

Our hotel was on Laugavengur, the main drag.  A party rolled down the street each night.  Every morning actually.  The drinking would begin around midnight and finish when the sun rose at 3:00 am.  Long before that we walked up the street our first evening, looking for a restaurant.  We asked a local where it was.  "You're going the wrong way.  Go back and turn left on Skolavordustgur."  Gail and I nodded, hoping the other could figure out what the first letter of the street name was.  Eventually we stumbled across the restaurant but all the tables were taken by then.

We visited the Hallgrimskirkja church earlier in the day.  It towers above the city, providing a convenient landmark.  The church was commissioned in 1937 and serves one of the largest Lutheran congregations in Iceland.  It's quite a structure.

Reykjavik has a modern look.  The shops and restaurants have humorous qualities and were fun to visit.  Tourism is the nation's largest industry these days.  Everything exuded a Western look and feel.  Dunkin' Donuts, an American coffee chain that originally was based in Boston, had the longest lines.  The basics were Icelandic.  But most places featured an American or European twist.

U.S. $1.00 is worth 120 kroner in Iceland.  In Norway it was 8 1/2.  It took a while to make the adjustment.  A bottle of soda sold for 400 kroner at a convenience store on the main thoroughfare.  It paid to shop around.  The next day I found one for 150 on a side street.

That first night Gail and I also discovered a less expensive restaurant.  The food was great.  There were several specials to pick from.  The ambiance was quixotic.  The service was terrific.  That's not always the case.  Waiters are paid a fixed wage.  In America they need to work hard for tips.  Attentive. Friendly.  Anything you want.  Just make sure you pay the 20% extra.  In Scandinavia the tip is included in the meal's price.  Sometimes that leads to a less satisfying customer experience.  At one spot Gail and I sat unattended for half an hour.  After we asked for a waitress, we finally got one.  But she wore quite a scowl!

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