I'm going to kill you, Lilly Smith!

Sara and Sam did a great job leading us to the Lillehammer train station, which included a train change in Dombås and of course the clue was Don't be a dumb ass, change trains here. Do you really think I could resist that? Everything was going great until they got the next clue, a map. Using this map, find your way to 24 Birkebeinervegan. Easy, yes? I thought a regular map might be too hard, so we used Google maps and drew the line that showed the best route. It was the easiest clue, or so I thought. Well, it turns out that Sara doesn't know how to read a map. Really? Is this actually possible that she doesn't know how to use a map? So the kids were sort of screwed now, since Sam can't read anything, and the pressure finally got to Sara and she had a bit of a meltdown. It didn't help that the directions were up an enormous hill covered in icy sidewalks. So Sara wasn't in a good state of mind, and she refused our help and instead headed back to the train station in quite a mood. At least she has the map, Jon said. Determined not to let one bad attitude ruin the adventure, we let her go back to cool off, and just when I wasn't able to take it anymore I saw her heading back up the hill. Fine, we can move on. So remember those icy, hilly sidewalks? Sam wanted his turn to complain, I guess, so he spent the rest of the walk whining about how he was sooooooooo tired from walking. Luckily, we were heading to a hotel (24 Birkebeinervegan is the address) so that the kids could rest their weary feet and attitudes, and Jon and I could lock ourselves in the bathroom.

The amazing kids

We're big fans of the TV show The Amazing Race and decided to create a weekend adventure for the kids based on the show. I wrote a bunch of clues modeled after the show, made arrangements for a weekend away, and told the kids that they would be leading the family to someplace cool just like on TV. Sam is up for anything so he instantly thought it would be fun, but Sara is more apprehensive of the unknown and told me it would suck. Well, we had a pretty cool adventure planned so I was quite sure the sucking would be minimal. Anyway, we set out early on Saturday morning and Sara figured out the first clue, a word scramble, in about two seconds. Not that impressive, except that the word was in Norwegian. The clue told them to go to the train station in Åndalsnes, about 100 km away, but that's all they knew until we got there. The next clue was a bit harder, but they could choose between a trivia question that I thought might be hard, or a pictogram that my mother thought was hard. Luckily they went with plan B, and they solved the puzzle to discover that we were headed on the train to Lilly Blacksmith. Um, no. Try again. Take the train to Lilly Smith? Nope. Lilly Hammer? Yup, we were going to the site of the 1994 winter Olympics: Lillehammer, Norway.

Don't forget to keep checking our photo page for new trip pictures!

S is for Super...

It's not every day that your kid comes home from school telling you that tomorrow the class is going into the woods for lunch, or that today she taught her classmates how to play 4 Square in a combination of Norwegian and English. We knew when we were planning this trip that the kids might have some trouble assimilating, and we were dead wrong. From the second day here, Sara was attending the local Norwegian school and had made friends by the time she walked home. She was fearless and speaking Norwegian to her teachers and friends as best she could. With all of the new things to learn, we worried that she'd be too tired to do her American schoolwork on line, as going to school all day and then working on line at night is a lot even for adults. The on line program is new to her, and she can be easily frustrated sometimes. We expected bad grades, or, worse, missing assignments. Turns out we are the ones who can't assimilate. Sara is doing exceptionally well in American school, with only As and high Bs and a chance of getting all As if she keeps it up. She is quite popular with her Norwegian classmates and is speaking more Norwegian every day. We are in awe of our amazing daughter!

Somewhere over the Rainbow Warrior

We decided to shake things up this morning, so instead of our morning walk we drove into downtown Ålesund and hiked up to the observatory.  Well, it wasn't exactly hiking because there are steps, 418 of them to be exact.  It was more like a breathless climb that made me realize I need to do more cardio.  The views from the top were just unbelievable, and we were able to see the Greenpeace ship Rainbow Warrior docking in Ålesund harbor.  Sometimes I forget what an experience this is for the kids, until today Sam says Come over here, Dad, and get a picture of the Rainbow Warrior. Pretty cool experience for a 4-year-old, and not bad for the rest of us, either.

Grønt hår!

This morning was haircut day for Jon and Sam.  So, Jon comes home and while Sam is still getting out of the car he says to me, So how important is Sam's haircut to you again? That's never good. In my defense, I'm not picky about Sam's hair; really the only look I don't like is the 4 year old military man. You know, a buzz cut, very short all over and all the same length. Ironically, this is Jon's look but that's another story. So anyway, Sam steps in while I hold my breath and brace myself. I'm picturing Sam walking around the corner.  The truth?? You can't HANDLE the truth!! But my fears were allayed. Sam was the very picture of an adorable, scrumptious, Norwegian boy, complete with the requisite green hair.  And I love it!


Click on the images for a closer look!

If the Lego Fairy existed, she might live here...

Spring sprang, then sprung

Just as I was starting to think the snow was gone - for sure - and the spring flowers were no longer tentative, it snowed. Then it hailed, if you can believe that, and snowed again, leaving just a slight dusting on the ground this morning. We had switched over to our lighter, fleece jackets last week, but then Jon and Sam made the full commitment and re-attached their liners to their fleece coats for the return of the winter weather. I am not so sure, and in my ambivolence I am keeping my liner detached, but still wearable if I need it. Somehow this reassures me that the winter is not coming back. How could it be, when my jacket liner is not attached? My jacket strategy served me well this morning, 15 minutes into our walk, when we realized that even with the snowy roads the weather was too warm and sunny for full regalia.  Swoosh! My jacket was off, scarf stuffed in one sleeve and gloves in the other, and I was on the move again in search of the tracks of the intrepid Sara. Hey, we can't be Bear Grylls every day, sometimes we have to be bushwhackers. I know, I know, the jokes just write themselves...

Free to ski, you and me...

Amazingly, we've started to think about our next home exchange after we get back to the States. We're interested in finding a big house where we can bring Jon's parents, since they weren't able to join us here in Norway due to Larry's illness. Although looking for a new home exchange is fun, I'm reminded that Jon's Mom has always wanted to come here and she is missing her chance.  I don't think even the most brilliant home swap this fall could make me feel better about that. OK, not totally true - a huge estate on a private Greek island with a live-in masseuse might just erase those bad feelings afterall. Barring that, we know that Jon's parents would enjoy a ski house where we could play cards and some of us could ski, and we could all spend some time together relaxing.  Our Norwegian exchangers explained that many of their friends would be thrilled to have a house with a pool, so we're hopeful that it will be easy to find a family in Colorado (Jon's first choice). Now that we've discovered this amazing home exchange lifestyle and have seen how much our kids have grown from the experience, we won't be settling down anytime soon.

One of the local ski areas in Stranda, Norway.

Sam's pail list...might take a while!

For those of you keeping track, Sam has come up with his own "pail list" (see my previous post about my Pail List if you don't know what I'm talking about). He's become enamored with Dr. Bob Arnott's cool TV show, Dr. Danger, which has become a source of inspiration for his list. Here it is:

1. Take an elephant safari.

2. Paraglide with Momma.

3. Ride in a hot air balloon.

4. Go on a zip line.

5. Sleep on an overnight train.

6. Ride on a trolley.

7. See Barcelona from its funicular railroad.

8. Take the elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

9. Ride in an Army truck.

There are so many more, but this was all he could think of when on the spot. I don't think we'll be able to manage the elephant Safari this time, but we hope to cover as many of these as we can.  Stay tuned!

Here's to a new interest...

click the pix for the full effect!

Today I packed a picnic and Jon and I took the kids to the "secret hiding place" for lunch. The weather wasn't really cooperating with us, but we were determined to make the most of Jon's time off so off we went. The kids had a blast, and although it wasn't sunny, the light rain stopped as soon as we arrived and didn't start up again until I was finishing my last bite of sandwich.  We did a bit of rock climbing in the area before we headed for home, as Sara annouced every few minutes that she adores hiking and could do this all day.  Um, what?  Sara, the girl who refuses to wear a warm coat because it doesn't look good, the girl who hates trying new things, has discoved a new interest. Outdoors. This is most encouraging, and I'm excited for next weekend when we take the kids for a surprise getaway.  As we leave the beach, Sara gives me another gift, something she says makes her think of me. It's a small red rock that she found on the shore, shaped like a heart. I put in my jacket pocket, next to my own heart, where Sara always is...adventurer or not.

Self-actualization or my actual self?

This trip has been an eye-opening experience for me. I have always considered myself in touch with my feelings, grounded, in an I've-spent-a-lot-of-money-on-therapy sort of way. I didn't expect to be learning about myself, although when I shared a few of these thoughts with Jon he claims he already knew all about them. My favorite discovery so far is that I really do enjoy outdoor activities like hiking and walking much more than I thought. I didn't really dislike walking (who hates walking??), but I wasn't leaping out of bed to go for a walk, either. Now I am. Well, OK, I still drag out of bed and need a coffee first, but then I am up and out the door. It's fun. I am already planning some hiking trips for this summer in Sweden and can't wait. I might even get a pair of hiking boots, the good kind.  I want to go white water rafting very badly, can't wait to try out a zip line through the jungle, and want to soar over Gotenborg in a hot air balloon. Göteborg från luftballong. Remember that song? Anyway, I am now some kind of outdoor adventure enthusiast, and I haven't even mentioned the paragliding yet. This is a bit of a shock to me really, as I never considered myself anything close to athletic, or even sporty. Now I want to jump off a cliff attached to some random person who will fly us to safety by controlling the many ropes and lines of a paraglider. But I haven't totally lost my mind, I'm not reckless. When I was 15 years old and on a beach in Nice, France I had a chance to parasail, but I didn't go for it because I was nervous about my budget and, frankly, too chicken. It took 20 years for another opportunity to parasail, and you bet I didn't let it pass me by. What an exhilirating experience, I wasn't even a bit afraid and I had Sara up there with me. If I could parasail this afternoon, I would. No question. So instead of wondering if I would enjoy a hiking trip in the mountains or a week of Scuba diving in the Carribbean, I am going to buy those hiking boots. We're going to get Scuba certified and take that trip. Put me in, Coach, I'm ready to play.

The Lego Fairy

Sam loves to play with all the new toys in the little girl's room here, especially with her collection of Legos. We have Legos at home for him, but these are different and he can build all kinds of cool new stuff. His favorite theme is the car wash - we've washed hundreds of cars in his car wash and have even washed a few horses and cows (when we're not milking them with the gas pump). Once, when Sara went to the mall, she picked up the 2009 Lego Catalog which she presented to Sam as a gift from the mall. He likes to climb into bed with me at night and "read his Magazine," showing me what he wants to get at the Lego store. He even has gifts picked out for all of us. He favors large sets that have to do with the police or the coast guard, and the other night he found something very special.  Look, Momma! he tells me, it's the Lego Fairy! They have a Lego Fairy in Norway! With this, he grabs me and gives me a big squeeze.  Hmm, yeah, I tell him, but I am working online and don't really pay too much attention to what he's saying. It takes a second to register. Lego Fairy? I picture a princess holding a wand, her body square and pink, and long yellow hair complete with "hair head."  Remember the Lego hair? Actually, it's nothing like that. He found something he learned about here in Ålesund, one of his new favorite means of transport: a Lego ferry. I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed - I was looking forward to playing with her.

image: Lego.com

Uteskule

Last week, Sara's class spent a few hours outside having their version of a picnic. Sara said there is an area behind the school called the Uteskule, the Out School, where the teachers take the kids to play or have a cookout.  I pictured a bunch of trees, a few picnic tables, and maybe a tire swing or a basketball hoop.  Not even close. The Uteskule is what most Americans would call a...well...it's more of a...sort of...like a...place where a homeless person sets up camp. On a good day.  There is an old mattress on the ground, a bunch of hubcaps and some old buckets.  Someone has taken a tarp and attached it to a few posts that are nailed to a tree to make a shelter, complete with an old red door. There are rusty beach chairs, a fire pit, a huge old jug that held vegetable oil, and even a shovel with a broken handle.  And best of all, the kids love it. They jump on the mattress, make a drum kit from the hubcaps and buckets, and barbecue sausages over a fire pit. It was one of Sara's favorite times at school. Can you imagine trying this in the States?  Even if the school teachers got the school administrators to approve it, and the administrators convinced the superintendent to allow it, the parents would have a fit. They might even file a lawsuit. Come on, America...let's take a lesson from our Norwegian friends and relax a little. It might even be fun.

To see more Uteskule pictures, click here!!

My pail list...

So I've been thinging about the things I most want to experience on this 6 month adventure and decided to turn them into a wish list, sort of a mini Bucket list.  Hence, the "pail list" is born.  I've been very lucky and have had many wonderful experiences on this trip, but these are a few that still remain unrequited. Here goes:

1.  Swim in a sea I've never been in.

2.  Speak Dutch.

3.  Visit one of the famous Fjords.

4.  Touch a castle.

5.  Sleep on an overnight train with Jon.

6.  Go to the top of the Eiffel tower.

7.  Watch the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace with Sam.

8.  Speak Swedish.

9.  Go paragliding with Sara.

10.  Go to Russia.

Stay tuned to see how I do!  Place your bets in the comments.

Oh, dear CVS, how do I miss thee?

This is our grocery store, similar to Jon's hometown market in Orion, IL.

Some things about home exchanging are immediately great, others take some getting used to, and there are those few things that just don't work for me.  At all. Right now I am really missing the convenience of living in the States.  I am finally used to not being able to get ice in my drinks, and am living a life of luxury here with my 2 petite ice trays that I have to shuttle back and forth between the kitchen and the downstairs freezer.  I don't mind the limited selection of groceries - in fact it the challenge can be sort of fun - nor do I care that nothing is open on Sundays.  Great, maybe we can actually have a family day, something that rarely happens at home, despite our best laid plains.  But right now, I would give my left arm for a big, American-style drugstore, with its brightly lit and overflowing aisles of pills, creams, and ointments.  With my allergies to certain soaps and detergents, it has become a problem to find products that work, and impossible to find creams and ointments to make up for those that don't. Although I can look out the window and see beautiful mountains and tranquil water, I would trade this view in a minute for a view of an overly-lit Walgreen's parking lot!

Coming up next...or, Don't worry when your friend sleeps with the guy you like.

The Gapinge house!

It seems sort of, well, rude to sit in this beautiful house and look out on the mountains while planning for the next segment of our home exchange.  In just 5 short weeks we'll be leaving Ålesund for Gapinge, Netherlands for a 4 week swap with a kind retired couple.  I was lucky to find these folks after our original exchangers from Northumberland, England cancelled on us over the holidays. Apparently this type of behavior is not common, but we'd had a few false starts already and the idea of being homeless for 5 weeks between two home exchanges did not make me feel too festive.  I was really pissed at these people, especially because we had met them in person and thought we'd built a great rapport with them over dinner. We'd even bought a GPS system for our car because the husband was worried about driving in the US and we wanted to make it as easy as possible.  Whatever. I channeled my frustration into a wide search for a suitable exchange and was quite happy to find these Dutch exchangers who were looking for a trip to Florida. It works out much better than an exchange in England, where we weren't too excited to go in the first place because we already speak English (well, most of us). I knew it was meant to be when I realize that Gapinge is only a few kilometers outside of Middelburg, Netherlands where I'd spent a few days back in college.  Sure, it was about a man, but we were already on a trip to Europe and he was a handsome young professor. Don't judge. So I guess the moral of the story is that while my friend got the professor (and made sure I knew it), and although I had to wait 20 years for karmic balance, I was ultimately rewarded with a home exchange that came to my rescue. Karma is real!

In a good way!

Aside from Nestle instant Latte (embarassingly I am hooked!), there are other Norwegian influences that I wish we could bring back to the States with us. I'm not talking about the candy by the kilogram that's available in every grocery store and, delightfully, every gas station, but that's pretty good too. When I was at the community playground with Sam one morning, I had a chance to sit and look around the neighborhood a bit while he was playing. The majority of the houses here have porches or decks, and they all have little swings hanging down, or a set of rings. There are DIY ladders nailed to trees, huge nets to climb on, and even a ropes course behind one house.  At first this didn't seem so unusual, but after spending some time here I noticed a difference.  The kids were actually playing outside on this stuff.  For a long time.  Every day. Gradually it dawned on me what was so different: at home the houses have swing sets and playgrounds and all that good stuff too, but the kids aren't there very often.  They are too busy with school, gymnastics class, 30 channels of cartoons, piano lessons, Little League, video games, piano practice, homework, and babysitting.  They don't have copious amounts of free time; instead they have "free time."  They are shuttled around and managed by harried parents who rely on McDonald's for a quick dinner (no time!). Here it's different.  The school encourages play and exploration, and the kids have 3 recess periods a day, regardless of weather.  There aren't options for drive-by dinners, so families slow down and eat together at home, and an occasional dinner at a restaurant is considered a treat. The TV offerings are very limited, maybe 10 channels, so kids don't have much interest in sticking around in front of the tube.  Due to the fun income taxes the Norwegians pay, many mothers are able to stay home until their kids are 5 or 6 (with some help from the government), and even the Dads get home from work early by American standards.  It took us a while to figure it out, but now we know exactly what it feels like: America, circa 1975.

Gratulerer med dagen!

Ok, I will admit it, I am a foreign language nerd.  I get super excited when I'm able to learn new languages, and each time I master something in Norwegian I get a big kick out of it.  Gratulerer med dagen.  I've been hanging on to this little gem for a while now, waiting until I can use it. Luckily I am about to have my chance, as this Friday will be Jon's birthday.  Yeah, you guessed it. I saw the phrase on a greeting card next to a big cake with candles on it, and used some of that deductive reasoning that I usually save for emergencies.  So now that I know what to say, I am trying to figure out what to do.  At home we'd go out for a nice dinner and Jon would order a steak, a rare treat in our partially vegetarian household.  Here, though, groceries are very expensive, and fancy restaurant meals are pretty much out of our reach, so I will be cooking at home.  Pick out anything you want and I will cook it, I told Jon yesterday, going back to a birthday tradition I used to have with my father when I was a kid.  Really, you can pick anything...when I was 12 I asked for crepes suzette.  But Jon, ever the pragmatist, doesn't want to spend the money on a steak, even one that I can cook for him at home. Hmmm, maybe I don't cook a very good steak anymore, now that I don't eat beef.  Nah, that can't be it.  More likely, Jon just doesn't care enough about the food to spend a  lot of money when we could have something just as good (or better?) for much less.  Yeah, this is much more Jon-ish.  Since a birthday dinner isn't going to do the trick, I guess it's back to the drawing board.  I wonder how they say back to the drawing board in Norwegian...

Happy anywhere...

The other day, Jon and I realized that we were about halfway through our first home exchange; sadly we only have 6 more weeks here in Ålesund.   We are totally comfortable here in our new "home" and have gotten really accustomed to the Norwegian lifestyle.  I was expecting to feel awkward in our exchange house, but after figuring out where everything is and how to work the light switches (no small task), we settled in and started adapting to the new surroudings.  We know where to pick up oversized mail, how to navigate the ferry system with its Norwegian schedule, and we've even all learned some basic conversational skills.  I am no longer intimidated by reading package contents at the supermarket, and yesterday I understood a bunch of recipes in a holiday cookbook that we found in the house.  Wow.  It almost seems as if we've moved here for good, except for the photos of a completely different family on the walls! Luckily, we found a great family to be exchanging with, and Jon and the husband chat online regularly to compare notes.  We're always really curious about them and what they think of our area and our American lifestyle, until the other day when the conversation turned to that very subject. Husband said to Jon that they were just so happy, they love our home and the warm weather, and that they're having a wonderful time. They learned that they can be happy anywhere, he told Jon.  That's it!  That was exactly what I was feeling, I just hadn't worked it through yet.  We can be happy anywhere.

Kings of the mountain...

When I was about 5 years old, I used to love climbing onto big rocks and standing at the the top singing "I'm the king of the mountain...oh yes I am." Okay, maybe the rocks were only 2 feet high, but at the time it was quite an accomplishment.  And I was the king.  The other day when we were in downtown Ålesund for our morning walk, I had the same thought when I looked at Jon and Sam. I had walked down a set of stone stairs that lead into the water, and turned to look back at them. They were the kings of the mountain, konger av fjellet.

Thanks and read Jon's blog too!

Click our pic, we're having fun in our new neighborhood!

I saw a few responses from some of Mom's friends about my blog and our trip, so I wanted to thank you guys for your encouragement.  Norway is indeed very interesting, and I am so lucky to have such a great husband to spend this adventure with.  We set off on this trip with mixed emotions, as Jon's father Larry has been pretty sick for the past few months and is undergoing chemo treatment for Hodgkin's Disease.  He is feeling considerably better, and is actually halfway done with the chemo now, but neither of us felt too excited about heading off to Norway when we might be needed back home.  Jon started blogging as a convenient way of keeping track of Dad's health for all of the relatives, but his blog soon evolved into a nice little mix of trip stories, family reflections, and health updates.  It's a good read and you gain a bit of insight into the kind of guy who would marry a crazy person like me.  Click here.

Come on, Bear Grylls!

Click my pic, I am cuter up close!

Who isn't in love with Bear Grylls? If you know me well enough, you know that I have a bit of a  fetish about those pants he wears with the reinforced knees, and my sister likes to see him take off his clothes before jumping into the freezing Patagonian waters.  So it's no wonder that Sam has developed a thing for Bear as well.  During our daily walks, Sam likes to veer off the road into the woods and yell to Jon, "Come on, Bear Grylls, let's go!"  Sam is not actually Bear Grylls himself, but an equally important member of his team: the camera man.  Jon plays Bear, instructing the "viewers" about what he is finding along the way, and Sam films it all on his "camera."  I just watch the whole thing in awe, and never get tired of hearing Sam yell, his voice full of excitement, "Come on, Bear Grylls, let's go!"

Emblem skule

Sara has been going to the local Norwegian school since our 3rd day here.  It is a short walk, about 10 minutes, and now that the weather has warmed up a bit she no longer has to walk there in the dark.  Although I had emailed with the headmaster of the school before arriving, Jon suggested we stop in and see what the deal was and make sure Sara would still be allowed to join. I was told by our exchangers that school is casual in Norway, and yet I was still surprised to see all of the teachers wearing jeans and big sweaters. They all looked like they were just in from the slopes to grab a hot chocolate.  The Headmaster is still called Headmaster, even though she is a woman, and the students call the teachers by their first names.  I was expecting a formal way of addressing the teachers, since to me the title "Headmaster" is very forboding and reminiscent of my formal schooldays with a Headmistress. Ugh.  So when the teachers walked around without shoes, in their big sweaters and drinking coffee, I was curious.  Would the academia be casual as well? Liv, the Headmaster, showed us the lesson plan for Sara's class that week, and explained that the kids would be going swimming all morning on Wednesday. Weird.  They have recess 3 times a day, outside, even when it's cold and snowy. The best part is that Thursdays and Fridays are half-days, and Fridays are totally non-academic days to focus on the Arts.  Sara thought this sounded pretty great.  Although she was a little nervous on the first day, and didn't love the whole bathing cap at the pool thing, she has adapted extremely well to her new school and had made friends by her second day.  She has since been out with her new friends 2 times, and has a friend over today.  Oh, yeah, and she is also getting all As and Bs in her real school online. Go, Sara!

Knorr-way?

Ok, I am going to say it, despite the risk of sounding rude. The food here is very strange. Very. Strange.  There are a few small grocery stores which carry pretty much the same selection of food, give or take a few items, and the choices are limited.  Most of the fish is frozen, and most of the meat is preserved in some way, either as paté or one of the many types of cured meats and sausages available.  A lot of meat is also made into kjøttballer, meatballs, which are then also frozen or packaged to be shelf-stable.  This isn't really a problem, as we don't eat much meat and I am used to buying frozen fish from my local Sam's Club to save a few bucks.   There is also a ton of klippfisk, which I know as the Spanish bacalao, a very unappetizing (sorry!) method of preserving fish by essentially drying it with a voluminous amount of salt, resulting in what we call "salt cod" in English.  This all makes perfect sense, as the climate here is not conducive to much fresh meat or produce, and the people have adapted to a system that works for them.  Fresh food needs to be imported most of the year, and is therefore extremely expensive, so reindeer salami and sheep bologna it is.  I don't like this type of food, but it is logical so I can wrap my brain around it.  What I do not understand, however, is the exorbitant amount of packaged, shelf-stable meals.  There are little packets of just-add-water Hollandaise sauce in the States, and soup mixes and onion dip mixes for chips.  We all love Lipton onion soup mix. But here, everything comes from a packet.  There are entire aisles in the supermarket for packets of food mix, and not just sauces and soups.  Did you hear me?  Entire aisles! There is chicken curry dinner from a packet, spaghetti carbonara (just add milk), rice pudding (just add water) even lasagna from a packet (yes, really,  just add meat and put it into a pan!).  And the coffee! Nobody drinks brewed coffee here, it is all about the packet.  In fact, I am drinking a Nescafé Latte from a packet right now (my second one of the morning, actually, as it is quite good!).  So there you have it.  The food is Norway is indeed very strange, and cooking vegetarian meals can be a challenge, but that's what makes this trip a true adventure.

Click on her pic to see up close!

Here she is...the Snow Princess, in all her glory.  She was the mascot of the roundabout for 36 hours until she started to melt, and Jon and Sam couldn't just let her fade away.  No way.  They turned a decapitated princess into something everyone could love, regardless of country.  They turned her into the beloved character of...wait for it...Shrek!  The best part was getting to watch the Norwegians laugh when they recognized who it was, and the cute way they all said Shrrrrrek!

The Fort and the Snow Princess

No, I'm not the Snow Princess, nor the Ice Princess, thank you very much. That's not even funny, those of you who were thinking it...and I know who you are. Actually, one night after a particularly snowy day, our next door neighbor got out his snowblower and cleared the circle in the roundabout for the kids. He then circled around and created a big pile of snow that he explained would become a fort for the kids. Jon had a lot of snow forts as a kid that he had built with his brother and his friends from the neighborhood, so we expected to see a bunch of kids shaping and construction their play area. Instead, all the kids were inside and the neighbor was out there alone, diligently piling blown snow onto itself until it reached over his head by at least a foot. I stopped watching when it was just too cold to watch this guy anymore, and we went back inside. After dinner, someone remembered the fort and we looked out onto the circle. The neighbor was done with the fort and had moved on to the stone table, where he was building an enormous snow person with some kids and other adults helping him. The fort, which was more like a hotel, had a curtained window that glowed from the candlelight within. Curtains? Candlelight? What kind of fort is this guy making, and for what, exactly?! Turns out the curtain was made from cardboard, but the votive candles were the real thing and the kids were playing and lighting new votives as the others wore down. This would never happen in America. The neighbors finished the snow person, whom they dubbed "The Princess" in English, and therefore theoretically in our honor, and I couldn't believe what a magical place we were in.

We are living in a neighborhood called Emblem, and our particular street has a true sense of community that is very, well, neighborly.  There are 10 homes built on a cul-de-sac with a roundabout at the end of the road by our place.  All of the houses are newly-built, but they all look different and unique although they have a similar aesthetic.  There is even a log cabin with a thatched roof.  Very cool!  In the center of the roundabout is a play area with large picnic table made of a 10 x 10 foot slab of stone with rustic wooden benches on either side.  We didn't actually see any of this, of course, because for the first week we were here, it snowed, snowed, and then snowed some more.  Everything was either white or very white. The neighborhood kids spent hours sledding down the hill, ours included, and some of the parents came outside to meet us and practice their English. Even the kids here speak a litle bit of English, and Sara and Sam wasted no time making new friends and enjoying the unfamiliar weather.

Million kroner views...

On our first morning in Ålesund, we were amazed to discover that our Norwegian exchange house was even nicer than described.  There was supposed to be a deck with distant views of the mountains, but in the winter we didn't expect to be sitting on the deck so we didn't plan on having much of a view from inside the house.  When we stumbled into the kitchen to look for a coffee maker, we realized that the entire back side of the house had a full mountain view, and the kitchen and side deck even looked out over the water. We had a view of a fjord!  It wasn't just one single mountain out the window, but we were looking at a huge group of snowy peaks, as far as we could see in either direction.  Below was the water where cruise ships pass during the summer.  Cruise ships!  We couldn't believe that the home owners hadn't mentioned this amazing location in their listing, and hurried into snow gear to get outside and see what was awaiting us.

Over hill, over dale, on a ferry...

So our exchange family mentioned that the tunnel from the airport is under construction and that we'd have to take a ferry to their house, but for some reason we didn't really consider what that meant.  When we arrived at the airport after midnight and were the only people in the terminal by 1:oo a.m., it started to sink in.  Jon went to find their car at the long term parking lot, and had to search under 5 days worth of snowfall, in the dark, to find the right one.  10 points for Jon.  Sara found the only other person  in the airport (5 points to Sara) and got the bad news that there was only one more ferry before morning (we lose 50 points) and we had 35 minutes to get to it.  When Jon finally pulled up in the car, we found a note from the exchangers that suggested we follow the crowd out of the parking lot toward the direction of the ferry.  No luck there.  The note gave general directions but they didn't make it super basic, and unfortunately we were driving in the dark and couldn't read any of the street signs.  The gas stations we passed were closed, but after only one wrong turn, we made it to the ferry entrance with about 10 minutes to spare (500 points to Jon).  It was a quick passage back to land, and we got to the house at 2:30 a.m.   I wasn't expecting such a nice house, and it was totally spotless and they left us little gifts on the kitchen table: coloring book for Sam, socks for the rest of us, and a bunch of candy.  After a quick look around, we got the kids settled in the downstairs bedroom and we collapsed into bed, not realizing what a beautiful location we were in.

Went all the way to Londontown...

...to keep going all the way to Ålesund, Norway.  Our flight left London's Stansted airport (not the most convenient but the bargain tickets on RyanAir were worth it) mid-afternoon and arrived at Oslo Torp (again, not the "real" Oslo airport but hey, the tickets were only twenty bucks) about 15 minutes early.  Our plan was to take a train from Oslo Torp to Oslo Gardermoen, the main airport and what we had started calling "real Oslo."  We bought some lunch at the little airport shop and figured out that the train station was actually just a platform in the middle of the countryside, and we were supposed to wait at the airport until the shuttle would take us to the platform just before the train would arrive. Ninety minutes later, we hopped on the half-full shuttle and were driven 5 minutes around the corner to a parking lot with a train track going by, reminiscent of a commuter train to Manhattan from a small town in Connecticut.  We waited, waited, and waited some more, until there was still no train 35 minutes after its scheduled arrival time. Hmmm.  Unlike the small Connecticut town, the shuttle driver had stayed with us and was now speaking furiously into his cell phone.  Well, maybe it wasn't furiously, but we couldn't understand anything and it sounded bad.  Seems the train was not running because of the snow, and Shuttle Man was going to arrange for a taxi to come to take us to another station.  Some nice Norwegian women in their early twenties explained this all to us, and finally a taxi did show up that would accomodate all thirteen of us.  This so-called Maxi Taxi would take us from Fake Oslo to downtown Oslo, where we could get another train to Real Oslo airport.  While the girls were explaining this to us, our other travellers, a bunch of guys who looked as though they hadn't slept all night, ran into the Maxi Taxi and helped themselves to the best seats.  Nice.  The guys were all spread out in different rows, legs splayed and bags all over the place, so we all had to sit mixed in with them.  Sam and I squeezed into the back row next to two idiots who were talking music our driver, Lady Gaga.  With the club music cranked to aftermarket-soundsystem-only levels, we were on the party bus from hell.  

Hey, get a room! What not to do on the London Eye

Dear British guy and your American mistress,

While I know that you are excited to see each other, especially after all of that planning and secrecy, I am sure that you'd be much more comfortable back in your expensive hotel that you paid all that cash for.  I am not a prude, really I'm not, but I am trying to look out the windows of this little car thingie and I can't do that when you have your hands all over each other because it looks as though I'm staring at you.  My daughter also wants me to take a picture of her in front of the window but I don't want to look back at the photo and see a wardrobe malfunction, as we like to say on the other side of the pond.  So please, whoever you are, I am not here to judge you, I am just asking that you take a break and look out the window with the rest of us.  It really is a nice view. There is plenty of time for you to get back to business when we return to the ground.

Sincerely,

HomeRoamers

Why bus tours work doubly well for families...

Sam had 2 favorite attractions in London: the London Eye and the double decker bus.  He didn't care what bus, or to what location, but it had to be a double decker bus and he had to sit on the top. For a while, the London Eye was the coolest part of London, until he actually got a seat in the front on the top of the bus.  At that very moment, we got our money's worth on the bus tour - it was all about the bus.  For people older than 4, a bus tour is a cool way to pack a lot of sightseeing into a short amount of time, and if you're lucky enough to have a tour guide who isn't a total schmuck, it can be a good time.  Jon loves the very old buildings and cobblestone streets, Sara wants to see the shops and the people, and I am just glad not to be driving.  It's a real bonus when I can't tell that the tour guide is making everything up, and I can convince myself that I'm actually learning something.  Despite the frigid temperatures with the stong winds (did I mention that the top level of the bus is open-air?!), the bus trip was a huge success that even the London Eye couldn't beat...unless it was in a staring contest. Ha.