"Farai e disferai in continuazione il tessuto della tua vita, in attesa di trovare la sola esistenza che ti possa appartenere davvero”.
My adventure in the cold, Scandinavian land began on January the 27th, 2012.
I decided to put on my studded black boots: these are my favorite shoes and, when I like something, I am inclined to ignore the bleak sides. I did not realize that 2 flights, and relative check-in, with any other kind of shoes on, could have been much faster and more comfortable. Not only for me, but also for my boyfriend and for the long queue waiting behind me.
While the corridors of the airport resound with the noise of my heels, I begin to understand some norwegian distinctive traits, helpful both for a short holiday, whether for building a life here.
First, do not scream. My Italian standard tone of voice, here, is a shout. In Norway, everyone speaks quietly, vacuum cleaners make less noise and trolley wheels do not squeak. In the beginning I was feeling out-of-place, but after a few hours my eardrums began to purify from all the noise they were apt to. And I felt fine.
Second, the snow hovers in the air, but does not fall on the ground. A dense snow keeps falling from the sky, but the runways were as clean as in a sunny day. Around Malpensa airport, dark piles of snow still used to appear here and there, although the last snowfall was 2 weeks before. I begin to wonder where Scandinavians drop their snow… on Italian soil, maybe?
Third: so many children around, but not a single one disturbing. I spotted at least ten babies on the flight Oslo – Bergen, and I was expecting every one of them to be an unlimited source of noise. Instead, not a cry, not even during take off. Just 60 minutes of pure relax. Truth be told, parents were very quiet too. Is such a behaviour contagious? This would explain all the problems deriving from the typical paranoia among italian parents.
Fourth: organization. I land on time and there is an information point waiting for me in the arrival hall. We take a brochure map, we withdraw some Norwegian Crowns from the ATM and we buy a bus ticket. There is an expressbus from the airport to the city center waiting right outside the airport doors every 15 minutes. I don’t have to wait long before visiting the city for the first time.
Fifth: the hostel. I’ve always been lucky at finding decent accommodation, but the Marken Gjestehus, the hostel where we spend our first nights, immediately reaches the top of my preferences. Rooms were spacious and clean: even checking under the bed, not even a speck of dust. I was not afraid of taking a shower with my flip-flops, because the bathrooms smell clean. The kitchen was furnished with everything I needed to prepare a good dinner and, even though many guests were really young, no uproar in the hallway disturbed my first norwegian night.
Sixth: the language course. But this is another post.