Ramblings from Eden Terrace, in Norway

Boring goodness – Tunneling in Norway

Posted on May 13, 2012 by admin

Norwegians like tunnels. And bridges. But, especially tunnels.

Tunnels here come complete with underground roundabouts and intersections. The mountain behind our apartment has a criss-cross of several tunnels bored through it, all of which are longer than the longest tunnel in NZ. And, they´re still boring more.

Norway´s love of tunnels seems to be correlated with the discovery of Ekofisk in 1969, and this love affair is still growing stronger by the day. Wherever we go we see yet more massive holes bored into mountains, to the point that you begin to question the mountains’ structural integrity.

Coming from a country with relatively few tunnels, the novelty of driving into sub-aqueous or subterranean territory still hasn´t worn off.

In fact, you can tell New Zealand, although fond of tunnels, is rather deprived when reading the NZ Wikipedia tunnel page, which contains road, rail, pedestrian, disused, and the Devonport battery tunnels all on the one page (although the page does exclude caves). We also proudly list tunnel length to the nearest 10m, rather than 100m as the world’s big tunnel players.

Norway, it seems is the world boring expert when it comes to building road tunnels, both in terms of ventilation, boring, and safety. For every 120km of road, 1km is either sub-aqueous or subterranean. The world’s longest road tunnel is 24.5km in Laerdal, not far from Bergen. Norway also has the most tunnels over 3km in length (54 of a world total of 178). (In second place is Japan, followed by Switzerland).

So, to put it into perspective, here’s a wholesome boring tabular comparison.

	Norway	Switzerland	New Zealand
Total tunnel length	750km	220km	12km
Total tunnels	>1000	?	?
Area	385,252 sqkm	41,285 sqkm	268,021 sqkm
Population	5,000,000	7,900,000	4,400,000
Road network size	93,509 km	71, 454 km	93,951 km
Longest road tunnel	Lærdal Tunnel – 24.5 (World’s longest)	Gotthard Tunnel – 16.4 (World’s 3^rd longest)	Lyttelton Tunnel – 1.97
Tunnels over 3km in length	54	?	0
Tunnel to Road Ratio	1km per 120km	1km per 360km	1km per 7829km
Tunnel to Person Ratio	1km per 6,666 people	1km per 36,000 people	1km per 366,000 people
Tunnel to Area Ratio	1km per 513 sqkm	1km 324 sqkm	1km per 22,300 sqkm

Conclusion: Tunnels are cool.

Note: These statistics only apply to road tunnels, and don’t include rail tunnels, which are more difficult to collect, and also require less engineering technology to build – so not as exciting. Of course given that Norway’s rail network is not particularly large, the honor of having the most extensive rail tunnelling metrics would probably go to Switzerland or Japan (although maybe I should confirm in a separate blog post).

Posted in Norway, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Sola drugs

Posted on April 30, 2012 by michelle

Bergen is affectionately known as the wettest city in Europe, with only a small village in northern Scotland being able to claim more rain. Still, it’s a trait that is a little unfair if you look at the global distribution of precipitation and see there isn’t all that much variation. All it really means is we have a bit more rain than Auckland, and a bit less sunshine than California. Well actually, it’s quite a bit less, which is why Norwegians all look ten years younger, and people seem surprised when we tell them we are both in our 30s. We once told people we were in our 50s, only to be believed (although they did say we looked good for our age).

However, one trait that Bergen does have, is cloud cover. Pretty much most of the time we have intimidating snow or rain clouds that look like they’re about to blow their load any minute.

So, when the weather forecast is blue skies, it’s not unusual for it to make national headlines.

Today was such a day.

Blue skies and a sunny warm 12C.

Now not only does the lack of sunshine seem to preserve the Norwegians, but when we do have it, it induces a drug-like euphoria. In Bergen every Norwegian makes a beeline for the mountains. All 300,000 of them, children and dogs included.

Fortunately, we have quite a few mountains here, and no shortage of tracks. So even on a beautiful blue sky day, you can head out, and still like feel you are completely alone (at least until you get to the top).

We decided to head up Lovstakken, the mountain that more or less rises up from behind our apartment.

It’s a two hour trek to the top. The summit seemed to be quite the party zone. Although there was still plenty of space for us to quietly sit and enjoy lunch.

The view from the mountain tops still moves us every time. Most of Norway comprises uninhabitable mountains, along with a an insanely complicated coast line and a smattering of islands. It all makes for an epic view after view. Within just a couple of hours’ walk from the CBD you find yourself peering across a vast, desolate landscape, with a small city hugging the main harbour in the distance, and everything else vast inhospitable space.

They are scenes difficult to capture in words or photos.

But here are a few lame attempts below.

: Norwegians walking along the ridge. Sun’s out. Everyone heads for the mountains.

: View from the top. Busy busy.

: Taking an important phone call. “No, really, can I see your house from here?”

: Cookies and map at top – trying to work out best way back to town

: Still litt kalt

: Tramping barna, complete with drinking bladder. No sooner have they learned to ski and walk, weegie children need to start conquoring mountains

: Heading back down

: Exhausted Russian

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Cultural Differences

Posted on April 29, 2012 by michelle

We were at the professor’s birthday dinner. As the evening progressed, it came to Brian to make a speech. This is what Europeans (or maybe just extroverts) do, it seems.

So, Brian stood up, and began his speech. He decided to open with a joke, in honour of the professor.

An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar.

The first one tells the bartender he wants a beer.

The second one says he wants half a beer.

The third one says he wants a fourth of a beer.

The bartender puts two beers on the bar and says “You guys need to learn your limits.”.

The professor had heard the joke before, but it still immediately got a smile.

The rest of the group remained silent, staring back at Brian, like in an akward Friends moment were Ross has just made some completely inappropriate remark. The professor tries to explain the punch line. All being mostly engineers, they soon get it, and laugh belatedly in a feeble attempt of support.

Ok, Brian tries again, with his favourite joke.

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

Again silence.

Eventually someone chuckles.

They explain it to the rest of the group. “See, it’s funny because time flies like an arrow – you know like an arrow, which flies through the air. And fruit doesn’t fly like an arrow, more like a banana.”

“No, no”, someone else replies. “It’s funny because you have fruit flies, you know the insects, and they’re attracted to the banana.”

“Oh I see it works on different levels”. “Your version is funny too, but I think my one is better”.

Exasperated, Brian makes one last attempt.

Where did Napoleon keep his armies?
In his sleevies.

Alas, this joke didn’t hit the mark either, and no amount of explaining seemed to make it funny at all.

One more, for the professor:

So I was at DNB (Den Norske Bank), and this old lady there comes up to me and asks me “Unskyld, can you hjelpe meg check my balance”?
So, I pushed her over.

One chuckle.

A while later, it was my turn. I tried my joke with George Bush and the Brazilian soldiers in respect to the Brazilians at our table.

Back in the 90s Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing. He concludes by saying: “Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed.”

“OH NO!” the President exclaims. “That’s terrible!”

His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits, head in hands.

Finally, the President looks up and asks, “How many is a brazillion?”

Eventually the Brazilians at our table did get it, and even thought it was funny, but only after explaining it to each other at length in Portuguese.

It was at this point that I realised that Brian and I are the only ones in our norsk circle of friends who are native speakers of English. Our humour is usually based on complex puns, taking into account obscure expressions, and double entendres. This is something that will take an ESL years of mastery and experience of English to appreciate. In the same way, I suspect I will never be able to understand Norwegian (or even German) humour.

Needless to say, we have now been banned from telling jokes.

Still, we spent the following day researching, and found a couple of possible contenders, which might more likely hit the mark (should we ever be asked to give another speech, that is).

An out-of-work actor gets a call from his agent one day. “I’ve got you a job,” says his agent. “That’s great,” says the actor, what is it?” “Well,” says his agent, “it’s a one-liner” “That’s okay,” replies the actor, “I’ve been out of work for so long I’ll take anything. What’s the line?” “Hark, I hear the cannons roar” says the agent. “I love it” says the actor “When’s the audition?” “Wednesday” says the agent.

Wednesday comes and the actor arrives at the audition. He marches on stage and shouts: “Hark, I hear the cannons roar”. “Brilliant,” says the director, “you’ve got the job. Be here 9 o’clock Saturday evening.”

The actor is so happy he got the job that he goes on a major bender. He wakes up at 8:30 Saturday evening and runs to the theatre continually repeating his line; “Hark, I hear the cannons roar, hark, I hear the cannons roar, hark, I hear the cannons roar.”

He arrives at the stage entrance, out of breath and is stopped by the guard. “Who the hell are you?” asks the guard. “I’m “hark, I hear the cannons roar.” “If you’re “hark I hear the cannons roar”, you’re late. Get up to makeup right now!”

So he runs up to makeup. “Who the hell are you” asks the makeup girl. “I’m “hark I hear the cannons roar.”" “If you’re hark I hear the cannons roar”, you’re late. Sit down here.” And she applies the makeup. “Now quick, get down to the stage, you’re about to go on.”

He dashes down to the stage. “Who the hell are you?” asks the stage manager. “I’m “hark, I hear the cannons roar.”" “You’re “hark, I hear the cannons roar?” Get out there, the curtain’s about to go up.”

He tears onto the stage. The curtains rise, the house is full. Suddenly there is an almighty bang behind him, and the actor shouts “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

Or there was this one.

A NORWEGIAN applied for a job at the Chicago police department. He was given test after test, but could pass none of them. Desiring to have a Norwegian in the department, as a member of a minority, the Police captain decided to try one more test . . . this one with only one question, “Who shot Lincoln?”

The Norwegian answered, “I don’t know.”

“Look,” said the Captain, “take this question home and study it. Maybe when you come back tomorrow you’ll know the answer.”

That night, the Norwegian’s friends asked him how is job interview went.

“Really well,” replied the Norwegian, “They’ve got me working on a murder case already.”

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Spring Break

Posted on April 23, 2012 by michelle

The following day we take a bus to Stavanger, hanging out for another couple of days before taking the 25 minute flight back home.

The rest of the trip was awesome. Haugesund is a very pretty and authentic town. I don’t think I spotted a single Viking or troll shop. It seems to be largely ignored by tourists (maybe because of the journey there).

We had brilliant blue sky days, and the tired weatherboard architecture reminded me of walking through the older streets of Devonport.

Except of course it was freezing.

All up, it was a lovely trip, but our two days down the coast of Bergen cost more than a week in Germany (flights included).

Our aim was to experience Norway in typical (non-backpacking) tourist style.

I think we succeeded.

Everything went better than expected.

: Wenches Hair Salon

: Spring in Haugesund

: Derelict Buildings

: The classiest under motor bridge around

: Norwegians drink a lot of milk. (It’s the drink of choice at lunchtime. Beer before before 5pm is very much frowned upon)

: Bridge connecting two main Haugesund islands

: Haugesund Canal. North Sea rett frem. Mainland on the left.

: This place was for sale. I was a little tempted. The insides looked a bit like our house when we moved in, only rougher.

: Haugesund Church

: No pooping

: Spotted on a weatherboard garage on a Devonport-like street. I felt an instant connection.

: More neglected buildings

: Arty shadows in Haugesund town park

: Hore Central. Brian took this photo.

: Something in the pavement. Brian took this photo.

: Haugesund town – waters are beckoningly carlm.

: The mysterious Eidsvaag Polaris. I should probably do a seperate post on this.

: Lots of valvey things on the Eidsvaag Polaris

: Typical Haugesund corner building.

: Bus photo from Haugesund to Stavanger. We crossed a lot of bridges and tunnels (both undersea and through mountains)

: And still the bus, too had to go on a ferry. Ferry took 240 cars, and fortunately back in the fjordland it was once again a very smooth trip.

: Massive Sverd i Fjell, Stavanger

: Rodent spotted on the beach. We weren’t quite sure what exactly he was.

: You looking at me? Sverd i Fjell, Stavanger

: Farmland, near the Telenor phone tower, Stavanger

: Finally! New! The Toaster! – Yup, the toaster has arrived in Norway. This one even has radio.

: Brian took this photo. Statue outside catholic church

: Bridge porn. Stavanger.

: Under-engineered bridge? Why did they only use for cables on this cable-stay bridge?

: I wonder if they have a permit for that?

: Lots of derelict weatherboard houses in Stavanger too

: Paint job needed more urgently than Dave’s house

: Curious sign – close-ups follow

: Mummy, why is the moose missing a leg?

: Evil squirril chopped it off

: Spring in Stavanger

: But still freezing. Outside waterfront tables, had heaters built into the table legs. Nice.

Posted in Norway | 1 Comment

Penny

Posted on April 16, 2012 by michelle

Norway is an extremely geographically challenging country. Situated partly in the Arctic Circle, the mainland has an alpine mountain range running through the length of it, rising near vertically out of the sea and carved up by massive 200km long fjords. Add to this some 80,000 islands peppering the coastline, most of which seem to be scattered around Bergen (a fact which will become significant later); it makes for a cartographers nightmare.

And, with only 5 million inhabitants it is Europe’s most sparsely populated country, with only places like Australia, Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Canada, Iceland, Greenland and a few African countries with a lower population density.

Norway is, for the most part, inhospitable.

What all this means is, it’s actually rather difficult to get from A to B.

The nearest city from Bergen is Stavanger. In terms of distance, it is about the same as Auckland to Hamilton. To fly it takes 25 minutes. To drive, or take a boat, it will take 5 1/2 hours.

Combine this with the fact that this is also one of the world’s most expensive countries; it is not an ideal place to take a holiday.

It is however, awesome for tramping.

But, with the weather not quite warm enough for tramping, and with the country closed for five and a half days over Easter, we decided to nonetheless and try and explore Norway non-backpacking tourist style.

Our destination was Haugesund, a coastal fishing town situated half way between Stavanger and Bergen.

To get there, we would take a boat.

It should be a pleasant enough 3 1/2 hour journey, flanked by snow-capped Scandinavian mountains to our left, negotiating our way through a maze of islands on our right (and left), on a comfortable and laptop friendly ferry, complete with restaurant, and motion sickness control.

Queen of the world - leaving Bergen, trying to renact the Titanic scene at bow of the boat travelling at 65kph

Although, usually susceptible to sea sickness, I’ve had a very positive experience with Norwegian ferries so far.

They’re large, fast, and very smooth.

Within a few minutes, our boat, travelling at 65kph, was soon in the middle of nowhere. And once again, we were reminded just how rugged and wild Norway is.

Last houses leaving Bergen

Boat wake

Smoothly weaving its way through the myriad of islands (I can only imagine the technological challenge this trip would have posed before the time of GPS), we enjoyed the expansive scenery, while occasionally tinkering with the iPad, and other techno devices on hand.

Another ferry - Scandinavian mountains in background

And, then three hours into our trip, something happened.

I could no longer see land to my right.

The Scandinavian mountains remained on our left. The boat had definitely not turned around. But, the cosy buffer of islands was gone.

We were now in the open sea.

The North Sea.

The waves proved too much for even this boat to cut through. The last 20 minutes were a heaving hell, as I unwillingly rocked back and forth huddled in the back corner of the boat, nauseated, and trying my damndest to not make use of the foil-lined sickie bags (the staff were prepared).

I had no choice but to wait it out.

However, this too would pass.

We finally reached our destination and stepped off at Haugesund.

Arriving in Haugesund. Such calm waters.

Still overwhelmed by sea sickness and unable to function properly, we made a beeline for the nearest hotel at 900NOK. I collapsed on the bed and stared at the wall. I’ve never been a fan of hotel art, but now my eyes were centered on a hideous monstrosity that could only have been put in place by Penny the sadistic, basil-fawlty incarnate, people-hating hotel owner from an NZ town which shall remain nameless.

Knowing their guests would likely have just stepped off a heaving boat right off the North Sea, the owner decided to adorn the walls, with a mind regurgitating dizzying Photoshop overlay disaster. Unable to do anything but lie on the bed, I weakly summoned Brian to cover up this projection of evil, so as I could at least stand some hope of recovering.