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How do I get a Norwegian passport?

Filed under: Norway, Skiing — 4 Comments

January 22, 2013

Train view

And more train views

More train views

View from train

In front of Dr. Holms Hotel

On the slopes

Zara and her ski instructor

Gold medal winner

Train station in Geilo

Downtown Bergen

More train views

We just returned from an excellent four-night visit to Norway for a ski holiday. This was my first visit to Norway, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.

We flew into Bergen, on the west coast, on a flight from Leeds-Bradford via Amsterdam and arrived late afternoon, just in time to get a glimpse of the town before darkness descended.

We had booked a room at the Merken Guesthouse (a top-rated hostel) but at $180 for a room for 4, it was a stretch of the imagination to call this a budget choice. Welcome to Norway sticker shock. The Guesthouse was very centrally located, however, and only a 3-minute walk to the train station, which was helpful for our 7:50am departure the following day. We briefly walked around the neighborhood filled with charming shops and welcoming cafes (although admittedly anyplace indoors looked inviting given the 0 degree Fahrenheit temps) and then ended up at an Indian restaurant (because doesn’t everybody visit Norway to try Indian food?)!

After a decent night’s sleep in our bunk beds, we awoke at 6:30am (which felt like the middle of the long night) and hopped on the train to Geilo, Norway’s oldest ski resort. The train journey alone would have made the trip worthwhile, as we travelled through stunning scenery of fjords and the Hardangervidda, which is Europe’s highest mountainous plateau.

I’d warned everybody to be prepared for chilly temps, but the -5 Fahrenheit temps as we arrived in Geilo were a shock to any exposed skin. We stayed at Dr. Holms hotel for easy access to the slopes, although not a budget choice under anybody’s definition. The hotel was established in 1909 when the train route linking Oslo and Bergen opened and was originally used as a sanatorium for those in need of fresh mountain air.

We didn’t do much exploring of Geilo, although to be honest there wasn’t much to explore other than the ski resort. Skiing at Geilo felt like going back 40 years in America, to the era of local ski resorts and rope tows. We didn’t ride a proper chair lift the entire time, instead mastering the button version of the tow lift and coping rather awkwardly with the T-bar style. The resort operated group ski lessons for children only on Mon – Thurs (the days that did not coincide with our visit) so we had to opt for some private ski lessons. Fortunately, kids under 7 skied free and the lack of crowds meant you could squeeze in a lot of skiing in an hour’s lesson.

Impressions

Can I be Norwegian? (And I formed this impression BEFORE some Wiki research revealed that Norway (i) has the fourth highest per capita income in the world, (ii) has had the highest human development index ranking in the world and (iii) also ranked highest on the democracy index.
If you’re not Norwegian, you may have to take out a 2^nd mortgage and sell a child to afford a lengthy visit. After the first evening where we paid US$40 for 2 beers and 1 coca-cola, shots of Jagermeister were the only surefire solution to avoid having sticker shock from the après ski bar tab. (I often found myself wishing that the exchange rate involved more complicated math than dividing the Kroner tab by 5, but even a tipsy brain could manage that.) The $7 airport water was the priciest water I’ve seen to date.
Ski lifts are for sissies. Nothing like a rope tow up a 30 degree incline in -5 degree temps to separate the weak from the crazy.
Norwegians do not like mornings (maybe something to do with the Jagermeister at Apres Ski?). Thus, even with a 9:30am ski lift opening, we were THE first skiers on the mountain.
You really do need an alarm clock to wake up before 8:30am this far north (even if you consider yourself a “morning person”).
Having your ski instructor tell you that your helmet is on backwards is embarrassing.
Having your child act want to act as your ski instructor by day 3 is also a tad embarrassing.
Train travel in Norway is wonderful. Special “family cars” even include a play area for youngsters and take away the guilt factor if you have a particularly loud child (ah-hem).
Falling so that your knee cap lands on your ski pole REALLY hurts, so much so that ski patrol may need to be called. Luckily, no permanent damage ensued.
Norwegians all look like triathletes.

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“It’s Raining Again” (aka Yorkshire in December)

Filed under: England, Uncategorized — Leave a comment

December 31, 2012

“Oh, it’s raining again!” says Jonathan with a smirk as he comes downstairs for coffee this morning. I don’t think we’ve experienced a dry day since we arrived in N. Yorkshire in two weeks ago, although we have caught a glimpse of enough blue sky to “cut out a pair of boy’s trousers” on a couple of occassions. The wet never ends (yesterday’s headline read “Rainy year-end poised to seal 2012 as UK’s wettest ever”), but at least we are mercifully free of bugs! And although it is wet and cold, it is not bitterly cold, so who’s complaining.

The short days invite laziness. The weather invites pub visits. I hope this won’t prove to be an impediment when we attempt some more serious hiking in New Zealand. We have taken a few short jaunts through the countryside, as of my favorite aspects of England are the public footpaths, which generally allow one to walk from any Point A to Point B on a car-free path. Jonathan downloaded the Ordnance Survey to his iPhone and I’ve taken to affectionately calling him Map Man because he finds an excuse to pull it up every time we leave his mum’s cottage. One day we’d love to do the Coast to Coast walk in England (preferably, in summer), where one can walk across England yet with the creature comforts of a country inn and a pub dinner each night.

One of the other great characteristics of this part of Yorkshire is the ease (although not necessarily the cost!) of train travel. J’s mum and sis live in the cute village of Burley-in-Wharefdale and it is a 10 minute walk up Station Road from his mum’s Cranberry Cottage to trains that connect us to the hub of Leeds or the nearby town of Ilkley (as well as plenty of other destinations). From King’s Cross in London to the Cottage took us less than 3 hours and was a much more pleasant experience than navigating a final plane leg would have been. The bus system is also incredibly convenient and offers the added thrill of a double-decker. Thus, despite being car-free, we can happily get to most of our desired destinations easily.

Bolton Abbey

We visited Bolton Abbey in Christmas Eve for breakfast with Santa. Zara commented how much weight Santa had lost! Bolton Abbey is a place I’ve visited regularly since coming to England with Jonathan and it is a lovely place for walks. The abbey was constructed circa 1154 AD and the estate was formerly owned by the Duke of Devonshire. The River Wharfe meanders through the property, adding to the already picturesque scenery.

Playing a recorder at Bolton’s Abbey

River Wharfe at Bolton’s Abbey

Harrogate

A charming spa town where Jonathan’s mum used to live. We did our last minute Christmas shopping here (preceded, of course, by a pub lunch).

York

This old walled city was the birthplace of WH Auden, whose name we borrowed as one of Z’s middle ones. We took the train there via Leeds, and upon arriving learned from a station plaque that the station had been the world’s largest train station upon its opening in 1877. We had another tasty pub lunch which was slightly marred by Jonathan finding what looked like an old filling in his sausage, and then wandered around the charming central district, still adorned with Christmas lights. We walked by York Minster, a gorgeous cathedral where Jonathan and I have attended the Lesson of Nine Carols with his mum for many a Christmas Eve.

Jonathan also showed Zara and I the tree and very branch that he’d fallen off of at the age of 7 and broke his arm for the first (but unfortunately not the last) time.

We were hoping to take a walk on the city walls that protected York since the Roman era, but we missed our opportunity as they’d already closed for the day by 3:45pm. Like I mentioned, short days here, although the pubs were full and inviting. Instead, we took a ride on the York Wheel, where the buffeting winds triggered a spell of vertigo in me when we were stopped at the top.

The infamous tree

The York Wheel

View from river in York

York Wall

York Minster

Streets of York

Gorgeous sunset (even if it isn’t 4pm yet)

Purple Man in York

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Last Hurrah in Bangkok

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December 22, 2012

As I write this post wrapped in a fleece jacket sitting in a cozy cottage in Yorkshire looking out at the leaden skies, the sweltering heat of our last days in Bangkok seems a distant memory. Our tans took all of 24 hours to fade, but at least we’ve been able to dump the mosquito repellant (although, against all odds, a mosquito seems to have hitchhiked in our luggage all the way to N. England)!

Our 3 1/2 days in Bangkok added yet another SE Asian city to my fave list and it was difficult leaving this part of the world behind. Although we were all excited to spend the Christmas holidays with family in England, in two and a half months SE Asia became home to us.

Jonathan had visited Bangkok a couple of times before but was absolutely staggered by the change in the past 15-20 years. He kept exclaiming “This is just like Tokyo”. We stayed at the all-suite In Residence in Sukhumvit, which was an ideal, central location and adopted an attitude of low-key sightseeing, as the 95 degree heat wasn’t really compatible with lengthy touring days. Once again, the super-modern, air-conditioned malls of SE Asia became our refuge.

Wat Pho

Zara’s ears perked up when she heard about the Temple of The Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho (its official name is the tongue-twisting “Wat Phra Chettuphon Wimon Mangkhlaram Ratchaworamahawihan”), as she still lamented our lost opportunity with the Big Buddha in Hong Kong. We opted to travel to the temple via the super-efficient SkyTrain (which is actually listed as the #1 attraction in Bangkok on TripAdvisor, make of that what you may!) and a ferry on the Chao Phraya River, so getting there was half the fun. The complex at Wat Pho was larger and more impressive than we’d expected and the 43 meter long Buddha lived up to Z’s expectations.

Jim Thompson’s House

After our Jim Thompson cottage-hunting adventure in the Cameron Highlands, I felt compelled to visit his official house in Bangkok and J graciously agreed despite having seen it 15 years ago. The house is a gorgeous teak house on the banks of a canal. Photography was strictly prohibited for some unexpressed reason, but the setting was very serene and the house tastefully decorated with his art collection. Z took it upon herself, however, to make it very clear how tedious guided tours can be for children. A highlight of the visit was watching them spin the silk in the courtyard before the start of the tour and we wrapped up our visit with a lovely lunch in the cafe onsite.

Rang Mahal

After 10 days of dining exclusively on Thai food in Koh Chang, J needed his Indian-food fix so he took us to a great meal at the Rang Mahal on the 26th floor of the Rembrandt Hotel, which combined Indian food with J’s other passion–great views. Excellent service and food.

Vertigo and Moon Bar

A stunning venue for sunset drinks. On the 61st floor of the narrow Banyan Tree Hotel. Incredible.