So I'm back in Europe, but this does not mean I have stopped travelling. In fact, I'm travelling more than ever, nearly to the point of delusional exhaustion which results in me walking into doors. Safe to say I'm happy that I will be in ONE place for a whole three weeks. Amazing.
At the end of June I went to Norway to visit that one there > and had a great time. It was beautiful. I discovered that fjords in Norway are everywhere (it is one of those things you have to see to believe) and the people are lovely, albeit slightly sceptical of my very obvious foreign-ness. They are also very tall. I have never felt smaller than when surrounded by tall blonde Norwegians in blue blazers in a cramped bar in Stavanger. It's not like you exactly care though when you're in the company of good friends and you're all acting a bit loopy on the dance floor.
Stavanger is the cutest little seaside town/city. It is technically a city, because it has a cathedral, but it really feels more like a town. Especially when you see a giant cruise ship docked in the harbor towering over the wee wooden pubs and houses. Old Stavanger lies on the left of the harbour if you're facing inland, and is comprised of tiny white wooden houses, tiny flower gardens and cobbled streets which lead you up the hill to the tinned mackerel museum. Very cool and interesting if you're into old labels and adverts, but it was enough just to see the free exhibit at the front. To the right of the harbour are pubs, restaurants and more meandering cobbled streets which lead you to more pubs and restaurants.
I would like to say that many Norwegian stereotypes apply. People are tall, blonde and outdoorsy. They dress very smart in navy blue blazers, or practical down jackets and wind breakers. A trip to the coast includes a fishing trip on a boat. Rocks and boulders resemble trolls and wooded areas look like they were taken straight out of an illustrated fairy tale book about the animals of the forest. Unexpected factors of this trip included the sheer number of pale peach jelly fish in the sea, the exploration of spooky nazi bunkers on the cliffs of Hausvik, and the horrible monster of a hangover that I had after drinking one too many øls. Locals beers are delicious. I particularly recommend the White Dog Lervig øl from Stavanger.
Finally, the landscape. I think this is where I finally understood the utter fascination some artists have with landscapes. Don't get me wrong. I have always enjoyed a good view, but never really understood why. Then standing on the side of a cliff peering out into the ocean, I realized that nothing compares to that feeling you get when you are confronted by the sheer size of the world in comparison to your tiny self. There is nothing that compares to standing on top of a rock or a mountain surrounded by nothing but scenery, giant jagged rocks plunging into a sapphire coloured ocean, bright blue sky above you, wind whipping at your hair and waves crashing against the rocks below you. And then the technological addiction kicks in and I understood the frustration so many landscape artists must have felt as the tried, and still try, to reproduce an image of their surroundings. Try as I may, no picture will ever capture that feeling. But a drawing might.
 |
| This one |
Stavanger is the cutest little seaside town/city. It is technically a city, because it has a cathedral, but it really feels more like a town. Especially when you see a giant cruise ship docked in the harbor towering over the wee wooden pubs and houses. Old Stavanger lies on the left of the harbour if you're facing inland, and is comprised of tiny white wooden houses, tiny flower gardens and cobbled streets which lead you up the hill to the tinned mackerel museum. Very cool and interesting if you're into old labels and adverts, but it was enough just to see the free exhibit at the front. To the right of the harbour are pubs, restaurants and more meandering cobbled streets which lead you to more pubs and restaurants. 
I would like to say that many Norwegian stereotypes apply. People are tall, blonde and outdoorsy. They dress very smart in navy blue blazers, or practical down jackets and wind breakers. A trip to the coast includes a fishing trip on a boat. Rocks and boulders resemble trolls and wooded areas look like they were taken straight out of an illustrated fairy tale book about the animals of the forest. Unexpected factors of this trip included the sheer number of pale peach jelly fish in the sea, the exploration of spooky nazi bunkers on the cliffs of Hausvik, and the horrible monster of a hangover that I had after drinking one too many øls. Locals beers are delicious. I particularly recommend the White Dog Lervig øl from Stavanger.
Finally, the landscape. I think this is where I finally understood the utter fascination some artists have with landscapes. Don't get me wrong. I have always enjoyed a good view, but never really understood why. Then standing on the side of a cliff peering out into the ocean, I realized that nothing compares to that feeling you get when you are confronted by the sheer size of the world in comparison to your tiny self. There is nothing that compares to standing on top of a rock or a mountain surrounded by nothing but scenery, giant jagged rocks plunging into a sapphire coloured ocean, bright blue sky above you, wind whipping at your hair and waves crashing against the rocks below you. And then the technological addiction kicks in and I understood the frustration so many landscape artists must have felt as the tried, and still try, to reproduce an image of their surroundings. Try as I may, no picture will ever capture that feeling. But a drawing might.
come back soon! :D
ReplyDelete