Firstly, sorry about the title of today's blog. Its been in my head for days and I needed to inflict it on someone else. Secondly, yeah, I'm totally in Oslo and shizzle, where the streets are paved with er...well...pavements. But on top of the pavement is shedloads of snow! Ok pedants, actually I'm not in Oslo, I'm currently in Asker. Asker what? Asker anything you like. BOOM! But I was in Oslo last night and I'll be back in Oslo again today, so there. Have that in your pipe and smoke it. No! Wait! Don't smoke Oslo! It seems nice! Despite its lack of obvious directions, its incredibly difficult train ticket machines that meant I bought a return instead of a single, and the constant warnings of pickpockets, its awesome. For a start there's snow everywhere and yet everything runs fine. I know! I know! Last night my plane landed on a snow covered runway. Totally. And it was a Ryanair flight at that. And there were only 7 people on it which meant I spent the whole journey mumbling out loud 'its mah private jet mo fo's' and got me several odd stares from the cabin crew. It was hard enough stifling giggles when they were doing the safety bit to each other as no one else was paying attention. Nice flight though. And due to boredom I rewrote some of Ryanair's safety card:
Shooting your eye lasers will cause a fire
Once you've caused the fire, sneak out as quickly as possible. Everyone will be too distracted to notice.
Then throw custard all over the doorway
Then dress like a dog
Then when you get shot in the kidney, put your lipstick on.
Yeah so I'm totally in Asker, staying with my friend Jonathan who greeted me yesterday with Norwegian food and drink goods such as brunost, which is brown cheese made from the whey that everyone else throws away. It tastes of butter and caramel and I've become horribly addicted. I think it only exists in Scandinavia because its probably too dangerous to have anywhere else. There is some infront of me right now and I'm doing all I can to avoid chomping into it with a spoon. Why would this be hidden from us Brits? Why do we not deserve the golden brown cheese? I have decided this is actually what the Stranglers were singing about. I endeavor to smuggle a load back and get some contacts to become a high class brunost dealer for the UK. There was also Gilde Aquavite which tastes like booze mixed with booze and whilst enjoyable becomes easier and easier to drink and then in the morning your throat has seized up and your head hurts. Its like some sort of Scandinavian magic. Jonathan also told me about odd Icelandic customs such as shark meat that's been buried and peed on and Dung Smoked Salmon which he tried despite it smelling of shit. Nothing in my mind can possibly work out why you would do such a thing, but being a polite guest I only questioned it for a whole five minutes. Bonkers.
So today is for actually seeing whatever we can see in Oslo, snow restricting. I mean, everything's still running, but I'm cold and its not great to stand outside for ages. No one here does it. I saw one man in a thin tracksuit top and jeans and little else, but I suspect he's from Newcastle, not here. Still thermals are on, as is big wooly jumper, hat and gloves and I'm gonna just eat some more brunost to get some energy up. And then maybe some more after that. And then some more. Mmmmm brunost. Then tonight, Tromso! Where they'd better have brunost or I'm coming back to Oslo.
Jonathan's garden. Better snowy pictures tomorrow. Couldn't work out how to take good ones in the dark yesterday. I'm an idiot.