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By Norway, things got a little desperate for us (financially speaking). We didn't expect Copenhagen to be so expensive,
and Norway was going to be just as bad, so
we made a vat of lentil soup and carried it everywhere so we wouldn't have to pay for food.
Here we are eating out of a bucket in our room on the ferry to Oslo, while others
are off enjoying endless culinary delights in one of the five restaurants on board. Bastards.
The best advertising campaign EVER.
Soph is pretending to be holding the bars of a jail cell because of what we are about to do here, which is: load as much food from the
breakfast buffet as we can into our bags, then flee. It was completely stressful, as we were sharing a long table with a bunch of other
non-food-stealing boat people. Desperate times, people...
On the train to Bergen, touted as "THE MOST BEAUTIFUL TRAIN RIDE IN ALL OF NORTHERN EUROPE!"
This ponytailed dude was reading Kierkegaard and carrying a sitar. We almost beat him up.
Still on the train.
On a hike in Bergen. Note the lack of rain.
"Look! A fjord!!"
"Sorry, I can't hear you over the din of the NO RAIN!"
We own this town, bitches.
Fish market. Soph ate every single one of those. Just kidding.
We loved this ketchup label. Look closely... the tomato never ends. Ha!
This is the work of a famous Norwegian stencil artist Dolk Lundgren. His work is all over Bergen.
Visceral, disturbing, irreverent, humorous...
You can find more of it here.
We snuck into the Aquarium right before it closed. Not so much that we were desperate to see fish in captivity,
but it was more like, "this was FREE! We just saved a hundred kroner!"
Staring at colorful buildings: also free.
Free.
Free. Too free, perhaps. We spent hours swinging on these and trying to take the perfect photo of us swinging at sunset.
In my head I was thinking, "Look at us! We don't need money to have fun..."
"...We are SWINGING! It's SUNSET!! We're in LOOOOOOOVE..."
"...FUCK YOU, NORWAY!!! You won't break us!!!"
Soph being broken by Norway.
Free band in the local hipster hangout. They sang in English and spoke in Norwegian, something I didn't quite get.
In Olso... Soph making the largest amount of potato salad known to man. The theatre hosting us was having a party that night and we
volunteered to stick our dirty hands into all the food.
Vigeland Sculpture Park. Gustav Vigeland was given a lifetime commission to carve his way mightily through this magnificent public space.
The sculptures are all tributes to the human condition, and are often incredibly moving.
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Vigeland was also fond of depicting the hairy troll mounting his subjects.
Park gate.
Our bikes, calmly reflecting on the greatest journey of their lives.
The Scream was actually recovered while we were in Norway. This was not the original.
Jon Fosse, a Norwegian writer, is the most widely produced playwright in all of Europe. Here he is receiving an award
for his meaty flatulence.
Okay, "fart" means "speed". But you WANTED to believe me, admit it.
The folks at Det Teater Åpne made us dinner one night in the courtyard adjacent to the theatre. They were such warm, lovely people.
Remind me to tell you a funny story about that Chinese playwright.
Public art project in Oslo: the city dumped a bunch of white leggos and some toy soldiers into an open square and invited people to build. And build they did.
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We couldn't take our bikes on the plane to Ireland, so we sold them to the theatre to be used as errand bikes.
It was a heartbreaking moment, but it made us feel better that the bikes were in good hands and not being used for parts or
tortured in some Norwegian POW camp.
The theatre asked us to autograph our bikes for posterity.
Goodbye, Tyrone. Goodbye, Little Cally. We miss you so..
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