The food here is seriously so expensive that we had to resort to Subway for a late lunch/early dinner. Have no clue how the poor weight conscious bastards here do Atkins!!! If you buy the "sub of the day", with everything (and I do mean everything: from olives to banana chili) on it, you can get away with 58 Kroner each (R 162.00 in total for sarmies), and you at least know that you're not getting reindeer/bear/whale meat, which for a recovering vegetarian is a bonus. We tend to only feel comfortable with the butchering and murder of mundane animals like cows, chickens and sheep. And definitely no sprog animals (sprog children would be ok though... Mind you, I like children, but couldn't eat a whole one...)
After eating our Subs in our room, washed down with the duty- free wine, I conned Poodle into having an afternoon nap with me. Okay, this might require some explaining... Since I met Poodle 12 years ago, he professed to not be able to do afternoon naps. He even resorted to referring to his time at creche, aged 4, when he'd get severely beaten (we might need to check this claim for validity to see how truthful this is) because he couldn't sleep during nap time. So I've developed very dastardly means of getting around this unforgivable character flaw... I tell him that I can't go to sleep unless he's lying next to me and snuggled up with me, and that he's free to get up once I'm asleep.... Then I wait for him to fall asleep, snoring like a freight train, before I put in my ear plugs and nod off myself. *evil laugh*.
This part is written by Poodle:
Once Poodle dragged himself out of the torturous sleep evil Poodle (she who is known as "B") tricked him into, we decided to go for an evening walk and trip old ladies. We went to the fleur del a fleur fleur, also known as Karl Johans Gate. Evil Poodle had non alcoholic Gluhwein (it doesn't go to meetings). Then we killed seven squirrels and tripped old people.... Just kidding, we haven't seen any squirrels.
We watched some locals ice skating on a rink, and Evil Poodle educated handsome Poodle on photography. Then we decided that we needed a true Norwegian experience and visited the iconic Sir Winstons; a true English Pub. Again we left with our wallets much lighter, but only after the whole area we were sitting in was invaded by geriatric Norwegian businessmen.
Next day..... leaving for Tromso
We arose well before dawn, but as the sun rises at 10, even severely hung over rock stars like Kurt Darren can easily do this. Though Kurt is more rock than star.
In the pissing rain, I ran out into the elements to hail a taxi, mostly because B was acting like a diva, and refused to get the fur on her new boots wet.
B here again:
Right, so we got to Oslo S, the train station, which meant that Poodle was once again in charge (I use the phrase "in charge" very loosely) as when we travel, Poodle is the Minister of Transport and Directions, and I'm the Queen of Everything Else. All he had to do was:
1. Find a ticketing machine
2. Buy 2 tickets on the airport express train
3. Annoy me and everyone else as little as possible
Sigh, you'd think it couldn't be that hard. Alas, you'd be wrong.
To be continued...
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