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.
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