TRAVEL JOURNAL 1
If/when my sister
new_fedora decides to post her traveljournal, it will be better-written than mine. I have a rambly style that you might not know because I usually edit the hell out of anything I write. But I just don't feel like editing my on-paper travel journals, so here you go!
My sister will henceforth be referred to as Elita, because this is her name and it is much easier to type than an LJ tag at every mention of her.
March 29, 2009- 11:35PM, still light outside
I have all but forgotten what time is supposed to feel like. Two nights ago, I completely skipped sleep in favor of shooting all the zombies on the television screen. By the time I got to the airport, my movement was looking pretty undead.
Last night lasted two or three hours. For once, it wasn't difficult for me to sleep through the night! I actually felt quite refreshed when I woke up, I guess jet lag isn't really an issue when you don't have any sort of sleep cycle in the first place.
The plane ride to Paris was mostly uneventful, Elita and I slept or read for most of its duration, Elita engrossed in Dune while I broke my solemn vow never to enjoy a Toni Morrison book. Beloved is actually rather good, and if you have anything to say to the contrary, then you can just shove it!
The Paris airport was quite pleasant, Elita and I wondered howthe French managed to ge the stereotype of being ride and disdainful. The nice people at the plane check-in were very considerate and even stayed patient while we illiterate Americans puzzled out our three-ounce containers and whether they fell within their infinitely-more-sensible metric-based limit of 100mL.
Unable to speak French, Elita and I were still having a pretty easy time navigating the airport in Paris because it was all so organized, even with several things you wouldn't find in an airport normally, most notably the multi-faith meditation area.
The plant life was gorgeous as well- less expanses of grass like I'm used to in the Midwest, more leafy groundcover, shrubs filled with flowers, and low-lying trees.
After some relaxing downtime at the SAS terminal, we finally boarded the plane to Oslo. For most of the flight, Elita and I went back to reading, sleeping, and talking. by the landing, Elita was showing more interest in the sleeping side of things, but I was leaning over her to watch the ocean grow gradually into land, as small islands progressively became larger and started to run together, blurring into a landmass known as the mainland of Norway.
Whoever told me years ago on the internet that most Norwegians speak English- I kind of see where you were going with that, my sister and I could get by without much knowledge of Norwegian,but it definitely would have helped us!
Regardliss of a bit of navigtional troubles, I was ecstatic to finally be in this lovely country. Everything was gorgeous even in the airport, and it only got better as we entered the city proper and saw all the awesome walkways and buildings and such.
According to internet reviewers, we wound up in a "bad" part of Oslo on account of our hostel's location. Well, first of all, a fellow tried to sell us hash ten steps out of the train station, not at our hostel. There were no shady goings-on where we stayed. Secondly, if delicious Indian and Pakistani food is bad, then I don't want to be good. Seriously, America would be better off if we had available fresh Samosas on the street corners.
Sadly, it was nearly impossible to find beer at any store nearby. But, we prevailed in the end! My first legal drink was the cheapest beer we could find in Oslo. Elita apologized for this, but I found it to be quite appropriate for me. It was delicious, too, so no harm was done!
It is also noteworthy that every dog here is adorable and well-behaved.
Why can't I live in Norway?
Well, besides the fact that I don't speak Norwegian.
SUPERHAPPY FUN POSTSCRIPT TIME
Drunken, yelling people outside the hostel are having the BEST TIME EVER. We thought they must've been just outside the window by the clarity of their sound, but looking out, they weren't even in sight. wow.
Shrimp salad is the best hot dog topping
People in army uniforms everywhere are charming as all get-out
new_fedora decides to post her traveljournal, it will be better-written than mine. I have a rambly style that you might not know because I usually edit the hell out of anything I write. But I just don't feel like editing my on-paper travel journals, so here you go!
My sister will henceforth be referred to as Elita, because this is her name and it is much easier to type than an LJ tag at every mention of her.
March 29, 2009- 11:35PM, still light outside
I have all but forgotten what time is supposed to feel like. Two nights ago, I completely skipped sleep in favor of shooting all the zombies on the television screen. By the time I got to the airport, my movement was looking pretty undead.
Last night lasted two or three hours. For once, it wasn't difficult for me to sleep through the night! I actually felt quite refreshed when I woke up, I guess jet lag isn't really an issue when you don't have any sort of sleep cycle in the first place.
The plane ride to Paris was mostly uneventful, Elita and I slept or read for most of its duration, Elita engrossed in Dune while I broke my solemn vow never to enjoy a Toni Morrison book. Beloved is actually rather good, and if you have anything to say to the contrary, then you can just shove it!
The Paris airport was quite pleasant, Elita and I wondered howthe French managed to ge the stereotype of being ride and disdainful. The nice people at the plane check-in were very considerate and even stayed patient while we illiterate Americans puzzled out our three-ounce containers and whether they fell within their infinitely-more-sensible metric-based limit of 100mL.
Unable to speak French, Elita and I were still having a pretty easy time navigating the airport in Paris because it was all so organized, even with several things you wouldn't find in an airport normally, most notably the multi-faith meditation area.
The plant life was gorgeous as well- less expanses of grass like I'm used to in the Midwest, more leafy groundcover, shrubs filled with flowers, and low-lying trees.
After some relaxing downtime at the SAS terminal, we finally boarded the plane to Oslo. For most of the flight, Elita and I went back to reading, sleeping, and talking. by the landing, Elita was showing more interest in the sleeping side of things, but I was leaning over her to watch the ocean grow gradually into land, as small islands progressively became larger and started to run together, blurring into a landmass known as the mainland of Norway.
Whoever told me years ago on the internet that most Norwegians speak English- I kind of see where you were going with that, my sister and I could get by without much knowledge of Norwegian,but it definitely would have helped us!
Regardliss of a bit of navigtional troubles, I was ecstatic to finally be in this lovely country. Everything was gorgeous even in the airport, and it only got better as we entered the city proper and saw all the awesome walkways and buildings and such.
According to internet reviewers, we wound up in a "bad" part of Oslo on account of our hostel's location. Well, first of all, a fellow tried to sell us hash ten steps out of the train station, not at our hostel. There were no shady goings-on where we stayed. Secondly, if delicious Indian and Pakistani food is bad, then I don't want to be good. Seriously, America would be better off if we had available fresh Samosas on the street corners.
Sadly, it was nearly impossible to find beer at any store nearby. But, we prevailed in the end! My first legal drink was the cheapest beer we could find in Oslo. Elita apologized for this, but I found it to be quite appropriate for me. It was delicious, too, so no harm was done!
It is also noteworthy that every dog here is adorable and well-behaved.
Why can't I live in Norway?
Well, besides the fact that I don't speak Norwegian.
SUPERHAPPY FUN POSTSCRIPT TIME
Drunken, yelling people outside the hostel are having the BEST TIME EVER. We thought they must've been just outside the window by the clarity of their sound, but looking out, they weren't even in sight. wow.
Shrimp salad is the best hot dog topping
People in army uniforms everywhere are charming as all get-out