oslo: where the coffee’s bitter and the whispers are louder than the fjords
i didn’t plan to land here. it was some midnight flight reroute thing and now i’m stuck in this place that smells like stale cinnamon and existential dread. the weather? i just checked and it’s... there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. 9 degrees, cold enough to make your teeth hum but not cold enough to care. i’m wearing a flannel i bought from a vendor who screamed ‘norwegian minimalism’ while handing it to me. it’s either genius or a lie. probably a lie.
neighbors here are either journalists or people trying to escape something. i heard someone mention a kebab stand that serves rice with the meat inside. soundswrong. my host said ‘local advice’ is just people yelling directions through the night. like, ‘turn left at the saxophone tree’ or whatever. if you get bored, cities are just a short drive away. oslo’s just a suburb to ame, but no one here will tell you that unless you ask politely enough. which no one does here.
but here’s the kicker: i heard that the opera house is actually a giant radio for some underground DJ setup. someone told me that. i don’t know if it’s true. i tried to google it and all i found was a yelp review from a guy who said ‘it played techno during my grandma’s funeral.’ gotta include that.
today i took a walk past a place called grüner techniques. it’s a building with a sign that says ‘world’s finest saltwater taffy’ but the window’s cracked and there’s a guy leaning against it humming a song about seagulls. i asked him if he makes taffy. he said ‘only for the gulls now.’ then he offered me a lemon drop. it tasted like regret. took it.
i went to this cafe called dyrkade. the name is nonsense but the latte is divine. or would be if it didn’t cost me my entire student savings. the barista kept whispering into her phone. when i asked why, she said someone promised her a yelp review for life if she kept the words ‘ocean’ and ‘hug’ in every description. sucks to be her, i guess. i left a review anyway that just says ‘overpriced adrenaline’ and took it as a warning sign.
there’s this rumor about a mural downtown. someone painted a giant submarine and claimed it’s a tribute to oslo’s naval past. i saw it. it’s ridiculous. a blue something with a crown on it. locals said it’s been there since 2003 but no one knows who did it. i tried to find the artist. ended up in a bookstore buying a guide to norway’s weirdest art. the guy who sold it had a tattoo of a robot crying. we bonded.
check out this map if you’re lost:
it’s centered on this weird intersection where a park meets a uber parking lot. not sure why that’s significant. maybe it’s not. there’s also these photos i took:
they’re all nonsense. probably.
someone warned me about the trams. i heard that if you sit too close to a woman in a pink coat, she’ll ask for your password. i’m not sure if that’s true either. i did avoid the pink coat. but then i saw a guy on a skateboard doing wheelies past the central station. he had a sticker that said ‘i survived oslo’s trams.’ i took a picture. it’s probably useless.
french fries here are a national crisis. i tried three places and one gave me a fry that was 70% cheese. another tried to sell me a bag labeled ‘mystery potato.’ i saw a review on tripadvisor that said a place called ‘krognes’ serves fries with a side of existential dread. bought it. it was fine. the owner refused to take my six bucks. i left a fake yelp review saying ‘best fries ever. also cried.’
the people here are... intense. i mean good. they’ll tell you their life story over a pint of aquavit. i asked a bartender about the weather and he said ‘it’s the north. it doesn’t apologize for existing.’ then he handed me a drink and we debated existential philosophy. he lost. i lost less.
i’m not sure why i’m still here. the coffee is terrible. the history is fascinating but also boring. i saw this sign for a film festival and it made me remember why i came. maybe i’ll go. maybe not. the lights are flickering in my head and i can’t tell if it’s the weather or just me.
if you read this, please don’t follow me. i’m either a genius or a tourist with bad life choices. probably the latter.
p.s. if you’re looking for a good time, flatskogen beach is 45 minutes away. don’t tell anyone. it’s a secret. unless you ask. then they’ll tell you it’s a surprise.
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