Dancing on the Ceiling (Oslo, Norway part 2)

Our last full day in Norway was not the beautiful day of sunshine we had yesterday, but it wasn't raining or snowing so that meant getting out and about again.

Even the statues get cold.

The Münch Museum, as opposed to the Münch display at the National Museum, was originally on the agenda. We had seen The Scream and although we understand there other iterations of it, we opted to explore the Opera House instead.

Across the road from the hotel.

The Opera House is near the Sentral Station and right next door to the Münch Museum, about a 20 minute walk from the hotel. Having already had a positive experience of a guided tour of the Sydney Opera House, we booked a tour for 1pm.

The tiger at Sentral Station.

Prior to the tour, we wandered around checking out the shopping searching for the Pandora store that had eluded us in other parts of Norway. Success! A Norway charm was purchased, a heart with a viking ship engraved onto it. Sadly, my attempts to purchase the softshell jacket I didn't buy in Tromsø were not as profitable for me or the local stores.

One purchase made, we continued to dodge the gypsies and whatever 'worthwhile' cause they were collecting for on the way to sentral station. They were easy to identify. All female as usual with a specific skirt made of some very shiny material.

Sentral Station

The last of gypsies accosted me as we walked across the forecourt to the station. I held out my hand up as she approached and said "No thank you". To which she replied, obviously miffed, "How about hello"? 

A sculpture at Sentral Station.

Sentral station is quite the destination and not just for trains. It in expansive inside and has numerous shops and restaurants. I imagine it is the sort of thing they are attempting with the redevelopment of Central in Sydney. I look forward to it and hope they don't take the usual Australian option and consider the likes of McDonalds and KFC as restaurants.

Oslo Opera House

After ascertaining exactly where we needed to be to catch the train the next day, with nearly an hour before our scheduled tour time, we set off to locate the opera house which was supposed to be in generally the same area as the station. We literally walked across the road towards the harbour and suddenly, there it was, right in front of us. 

The saunas on the water.

With time on our hands, we decided to take a stroll along the wharf area, across from the Opera House. Here we found for hire a group of floating timber sauna houses, replete with chopped wood to fuel the saunas and platforms with ladders so that after your sauna, you could plunge your overheated body into the literally freezing harbour waters. Hmmm not so appealing for us but we observed a number of hardy souls performing this masochistic ritual so it clearly is a thing, if only for gullible tourists.

The library next door to the Opera House.

We then made our way back around the foreshore to the Opera House itself, a modern (2008) building glistening with glass and white tiles that formed sloping lines rising from the water's edge to a viewing tower atop the building. This "roof" was populated by many people walking all over it. We found our way inside, located the tour meeting point and then sat down to take in the interior of the main foyer while we waited for 1pm.

The Opera House and Münch Museum.

The open space is again principally white with marble floors and sweeping windows that allow the harbour views to dominate one side. There is a restaurant within the foyer as well as a box office. The other dominate feature is an expansive timber staircase that leads to an upstairs mezzanine level that is lined by textured timber panels.

Precisely at 1pm, our guide arrived, gathered our tour group to welcome us and provide some general history around the design and construction of what is actually the home of both Norway National Opera and the Ballet. The building design apparently has some basis in the Sydney Opera House but apart from them both being white, on the water's edge and used for performance arts, we couldn't see it.

The foyer.

The guide invited us up to the mezzanine which is specifically visually distinct from the foyer area to denote a movement to the performance area of the complex. The oak clad walls are for acoustic purposes as well as aesthetic effects and they continue to dominate the decor as you move along corridors to arrive in the concert hall.

The wall changes colour as the day goes on.

Before we left the mezzanine, the guide spoke about the redevelopment of the whole foreshore, showing some before and after photos to highlight the transformation. A significant feature of the harbour is a sculpture made of glass and metal that is positioned on an island of concrete in the water. The work rotates around on an axis, driven by the wind. It is based on a painting that hangs in a gallery in Hamburg so maybe we will see the genesis of this work later on our journey.

The sculpture of the artwork.

Before we entered the concert hall we were informed that there would be no more photographs allowed. We sat in the darkness of the hall for a few minutes to hear about its features and capacity. The seating is very steep and not for those afraid of heights as it is a significant drop to floor level from the stalls. Each seat has its own video screen so you can choose in which language you would like your opera subtitles to appear.

After this, we headed away from the public performance area behind the scenes to the practise and workshop areas to see what goes on to stage an opera or a ballet. This was the really interesting part where we saw dancers practising, costumiers making all sorts of outfits, milliners, shoe makers, set designers, painters, lighting technicians... a veritable hive of activity in a maze of spaces yet every craftsperson or technician was very quiet, calm and individual in their pursuits. I'm not sure this would be the atmosphere just before the curtain goes up but the feeling was serene and purposeful as we wandered finally into the backstage area to observe the commencement of the creation of a set design for an upcoming performance.

The first statue of a woman that we've seen.

One unexpected feature of the corridors of creativity, was the laundry bags that regularly hung outside the practise rooms with instructions to put used underwear inside... in fact artists are not apparently very good at following instructions since there were items of personal apparel dropped on window sills, in alcoves, on exercise mats all over the place. Had we had any fetishist tendencies, we could have scored a goldmine of maybe famous people's smalls!!!!!

All too soon we were in a lift and back in the marble floored lobby - as it turned out, a far more interesting tour than we had in Sydney where the backstage, behind the scenes areas were not part of the deal. 

Münch Museum from the roof.

After the tour, it was time to walk outside on the ceiling to see the harbour from atop the house. The tiles up here were textured but that did not mitigate the slipperiness of the ice that was widespread across the roof. We saw a number of people slip and slide across the roof. They weren't exactly dancing on the ceiling, but from a distance ... anyway, that is where we arrived at today's title. Dancing on the Ceiling by Lionel Richie from 1986.

A short walk part way up the slope was sufficient temptation of fate for Jayne. I beat a careful retreat back to the flat path surrounding the area, negotiated the ice field at the top and crossed to the other side where there was no ice due to the sunshine. Rookie error, should have started on that side.

It was time to head back to the gastronomic options of the railway station where we had our usual late lunch/early dinner and then headed home to pack and prepare for our departure the next morning - our last night in Norway before heading to our next Scandinavian destination, Sweden. 

Until next time.

The Lighthouse Song (Oslo, Norway part 1)

The morning arrived with the expected grey clouds and snow. Lots of snow. It snowed all day in fact. Our guide in Bergen made fun of the meteorologists but it appears they have refined and perfected their craft in Oslo.

Despite now being firm believers in the adage “there is no such as bad weather, just inappropriate clothes”, dear reader, the snow and minus temperatures influenced our choice of activities for the day.

The National Museum

Thankfully the National Museum was a mere 5 minute walk from the hotel. Following breakfast and a couple of double espressos and possibly the best croissant I’ve had outside of France, we went back to our room to put on our thermals and snow jackets. The wind had picked up significantly and snow flurries were being whipped in every direction.

The temperature had dropped to -7° and, appropriately dressed, we stepped out into the snow. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t excited. Not even the blustery conditions dampened my enthusiasm. However, the unexpected areas of ice tempered my mood. While we had the right clothes and waterproof footwear, we didn’t get ice shoes with the metal sprigs. Therefore, we needed to tread carefully.

A sculpture in the courtyard.

We successfully negotiated the icy steps down towards the museum entrance and joined the queue inside to buy our tickets. The museum was a popular destination today. It is Saturday although I imagine the weather also boosted patronage.

The audio guide needed to be connected to your iPhone. This presented a number of issues. Firstly, they provided a headset not earbuds, so we couldn’t share and we only had my phone. Secondly, the battery on my phone is starting show its age and they do run down more quickly in the cold weather. The advice was just listen to your phone on a low volume - it won't bother others.

Down to the cloak room we went to remove our jackets, scarves and gloves. I was expecting someone behind a desk to take our gear and provide us with a tag or receipt. None of that, for obvious reasons dear reader. You would spend more time checking your gear in and out than you would visiting the exhibits. What we found was a vast space with numbered coat rack after numbered coat rack and lockers for backpacks and bags. We hung our jackets on Number 5 and hoped they would be there on our return.

Interesting design.

Finding the correct ‘tour’ amongst all the options proved to be more difficult than it should have been and I gave up until I accidently stumbled across a method of inputting a number that was tagged with a headset. We turned the volume down on the phone and listened to number of the explanations. Despite the earlier advice, we were concerned about disturbing other patrons by listening without a headset. Given the excessively loud conversations occurring around us, I doubt anyone would have noticed.

The ground floor of the museum is all about design elements and placing things in the context of time, over the centuries. Children were catered for very well (unfortunately) with their own guides, activities and areas to sketch varying exhibits. To create the timeline, they used copies of artefacts from other museums. Bad copies. You could see the joins. There was the Venus de Milo and the Winged Victory as well as an oversized Mona Lisa. I understand the concept but it was just wrong.

I can see the joins.

The second floor was art. They had all usual the suspects, Cezanne, van Gogh, Gaugin, Degar, Rodin, Monet, Manet, Picasso and of course, Münch and other Norwegian artists and sculptors. There was one iteration of ‘The Scream’ on display. Much like Starry Night by van Gogh, there are numerous versions.

The Scream

Apparently while examining The Scream, I inadvertently became part of a selfie. I didn’t realise. The person in question was facing away from the painting. Jayne alerted me to the fact. I cared not. This culture of needing to have your face in every photo is bizarre. The painting in question is what is important, not that you can ‘self-document these locations’. And that, dear reader, is the link to today’s title. It is a lyric from Josh Pyke’s The Lighthouse Song from his 2008 album Chimney’s Afire.

In real life.

There were, all up, 87 rooms to visit and we covered them all in a 4 and a half hour stint. That is dedication. In reality, we probably could have been there longer but we were mindful of the exhibition closing time and so we actually sped up our rate of perusal for about the last 20 rooms.

Another of his self portraits.

We returned to the cloak room to find our coats exactly where we had left them. After close to five hours on our feet, we walked through the much deeper snow back to the hotel. Just before we reached the door an avalanche of snow feel from the parapet above me. We had strayed too close to the shopfront in order to avoid the iced pavement and paid the price. We brushed off the snow and stored our coats and freshened up for dinner.

The youth.

Theatercaféen

We had booked dinner at the café attached to the hotel, Theatercaféen. In part, because it was easy and in part, to spend the $100USD voucher. Café? Not so much. My jeans did not match the many suits and ties I passed as we were shown to our table. It appears to be the spot to dine pre-theatre. That said, we welcomed by the staff and did not feel we were disrespecting their work. Yes, you are right dear reader it’s time to move on.

Our waiter was delightful and helpful and chose my meal because I was undecided. The food was superb as was the service, in contrast to the previous night. Focaccia came with muhammara and a garlic dip. Very nice. We both had the turbot baked with cucumber and risoni in a butter sauce for a main. Perfectly cooked and full of flavour.

It was also a great place for people watching. The two women at the table next to us ordered a bowl of ice with their white wine. Yes, they did it. The unthinkable, They put ice cubes in their wine. I would have made them go and stand outside. That would have chilled the wine for them.

Day 3

Vigeland

The next day was sunshine and blue skies. It was still very cold -9° and Jayne required her snow jacket. I opted for gloves, beanie and Macpac zip up jumper. We decided to make the most of the weather, and St Patrick's Day, and we mapped our course to Vigeland. It is a huge park that contains many sculptures by the artist of the same name, some of which had featured in the National Museum that day before.

The sight is quite spectacular. A tree lined boulevard leads down to a bridge that is lined, on both sides, with sculptures of the human form in a variety of poses. These lead through a rose garden that had been bagged to protect the roses from the snow and ice, up to a giant obelisk of human shapes rising to its zenith.

The park and Vigeland's works continue down the other side of the obelisk.

The roses.

It was quite crowded. again, I'm uncertain if this was due to the beautiful day - it has apparently been a long winter, or the fact that it was Sunday. Locals could be seen out walking their children and their dogs. Or jogging. What is it with jogging? It's dangerous on slippery, icy surfaces. There were also numerous bus tours ensuring my photos are far too populated by people.

The circle of life.

Grünerløkka

With so much of the day in front of us we decided to do a loop walk back to the hotel and headed for Grünerløkka. We didn't really know what was there aside from some quirky shops, markets and bars and a waterfall. It sounded a bit like Surry Hills at home, minus the waterfall. 

Another Great Tit.

The address was typed into the phone and up came the map and estimated time of arrival. Off we set. The walk was not exactly picturesque and was made all the more difficult by the periodically icy footpath. It was not easy going and was clearly going to take longer than expected.

No idea, but it was by the river.

By the time we arrived at our destination, according to Apple Maps, we were standing on a street corner surrounded by housing developments with  no amenities. Nothing quirky or interesting in sight; in fact hardly a living soul, except the occasional jogger. Jayne by her own admission was "over it". It had been a long, sometimes stressful walk to find, well nothing.

We headed down the street in the direction of home and stumbled upon an Irish Pub. They appear to be everywhere in Norway. It was St Patrick's Day, so in we go, Jayne greets the barman with "Happy St Patrick's Day!" "Sorry, what"? was the reply, and then the slow dawning realisation, "Oh, yes," he said. There were balloons and bunting all around the bar. Obviously a man committed to his work. His attitude was not going to spoil our Guinness.

The weir/waterfall.

One pint later, we were on our way again, much refreshed. However, a fast fading phone battery meant there was little time to lose. We could see a little further afield crowds and what could have been a market, but we were done and we needed what was left of the battery to find our way home. On the way, we did find the 'waterfall'. It was a weir. Unimpressed. The walk home continued, being careful to avoid, as much as possible, the icy segments of footpath that appeared randomly and unannounced.

Egon

One curiosity we have found time and again is that the more we walk while on holiday, the less we want to eat. Our breakfasts have been close to usual size but by the time dinner rolls around we aren't that interested.

Tonight we dined at Egon. It is a chain that offers more variety in a menu than should be allowed. They do pizza, pasta, asian and a variety of light meals. As expected, our meal and a bottle of wine came in around the $150 mark. It is expensive to eat here, or drink wine. I'm not sure which.

We walked over 13km throughout the day and certainly earned our rest.

Until next time.