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.

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).

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.

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.”

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.

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.

WTF

Covering up the hotel art

Eventually, I did recover sufficiently from our ordeal, to venture out.  One thing was certain though; I would never be going on another boat again.

We were stuck here.

In the middle of nowhere, so close, yet so far from Bergen.

The weather kept cycling from clear blue skies, to a howling blizzard over the space of 1/2 hour.

Apparently this is normal.

Photo essay leaving work on Paskeaften.

Norway has very strict import tarifs with astronomical taxes.  This stimulates the local economy (think ‘Think Big.  NZ. 1980s.), but the consequence is we have a rather limited choice in produce here.  It’s expensive, if not a little draconian.

When it comes to chocolate or cookies, we have one brand to choose from (Norwegian Freya), and of that only a limited selection, rather than an entire double supermarket aisle of chocolate/candy as seems to be the norm for first world countries.

Anyway, here’s our booty from Germany.  We are allowed to bring back up to 10kg of food, and 2Lt of spirits (or 3L of wine + 1L of beer).

Mmm. Tasty Munich wheat beer.

German booty - three tasty beers, 1 Aperol, three bottles of wine, selection of cookies and fine German and Swiss chocolate. And all for the price of two Norwegian coffees and cake (well almost)

Security personal open several more check points. Soon, Brian and I are separated.

As my turn comes up, I start preparing.

I empty all my pockets.

Wallet. Passport. Boarding pass. Camera. Phone. Keys. Loose change.

I put these items into the first tray and push it through.

Next, it’s my ‘liquids’. Pre-prepared, I pull out my airline-approved clear plastic bag from my luggage and put it on the tray. I lift up my bag and place it onto the bench into the next tray, taking out my netbook and iPad, for the tray after that.

Four trays so far.

As I’m about to push my jacket and back pack through on the fifth and sixth tray, the woman before me has trouble. She needs to take off her boots, and puts them in a tray in-between mine.

I pre-emptively take off my boots and push them through also.

Meanwhile, my wallet, cash, camera, computers are sitting out in the open at the other end, while several stressed and frazzled passengers repacking the items from their trays. I see someone lift up one of my trays and push it aside to make room. Someone else seems to be rummaging through my jacket contents tray, but I can’t tell for sure.

Anxious, I hastily go through the metal detector, but promptly set it off. I’m delayed further. I see, what I think is my computer, sitting there amongst some stranger’s trays.

I have to remove my hair clip, and send that through in another tray.

I finally make it through to the other side, and try and reclaim all my items.

Brian is nowhere to be seen.

How many trays did I have? Was it four, five, or seven? I hastily package my nondescript computer, and personal items, put on my jacket, stuff my change back in my pockets, and try not to drop anything.

Finally I’m reunited with Brian who had a similar experience.

We hurriedly head off towards our gate. I’m trying to think what I forgot to pack, or if anything was missing from my trays. I’m too distracted to remember.

Later that evening I google theft and airport security.

It seems it’s a common problem, ranging from opportunistic thieves – “Hm, that’s a nice phone sitting next to my jacket, I’ll just casually put my jacket over it”. “Oh look at that iPad. Hm. Let me just conveniently forget that I already packed my computer, so this one here must be mine, and I’ll just pack that”. “Oh, this looks like my bag, I’ll just take a quick look through and see everything is still there” – to more full scale professional thieves.

They buy a cheap flight, with no intention of ever flying, and instead work the security for the day. They watch for harried passengers, the ones who have decided to carry their entire luggage on board instead of checking in, the ones with children, or those looking disorganized and inexperienced. They conveniently queue ahead of them, and then pick one of their victim’s a laptop, camera, or wallet, whatever looks valuable.

By the time the victim has noticed something is missing (if they even notice) the thief is long gone, slipping out of the airport again and requeuing for the next victim. The next day, they’ll move on to another airport.

If you’re a victim of theft, the security personal have neither the authority nor time to assist you. Your best bet is the local police department, but chances are, you’re in a foreign country, speaking a foreign language and not aware of the process. And, you have a plane to catch.

And even if you are lucky enough to have police come through and assist you, the best they can do is look at blurry camera footage, but of course by then the thief is long gone.

After some more research, here are my tips:

1. Check in your luggage. Even if you’re on a two hour flight. By the time you’ve traveled to the airport, gone through security, and caught connecting trains/buses, you’re on an eight hour trip, so waiting an extra 15 minutes for your luggage to arrive, isn’t going to make a big difference to your day. It also means you have one less bag to haul up the stairs, through security, and throughout the airport. If you have personal items (deodorant, creams, shampoo), check these in, so you don’t have to bother with security, and as an added bonus you get to take your toiletries and cosmetics in that lovely bag your mother bought you for Xmas. Note: that even checked in luggage can still be misplaced by airlines, or subject to theft. So, still keep valuable items with you.
2. Pimp your luggage (regardless of whether you check it in or not). When we were having a hot chocolate in the Munich airport cafe, we were surprised at the number of people walking past with identical looking luggage. 80% of passengers have the airline approved trolley bags, and most of those are black. They’re made to airline standard, right down to the location of the compartments, and length of zip. If someone wanders off with your bag while you’re studying the departure board, (or when on a connecting bus/train with separate baggage department) you’d never find it again. All our luggage is pimped to the max with ribbons. It might look a little unmanly, but immediately is less of a target for accidental or deliberate takings.
3. As you begin queuing for security, take all items out of your pockets (wallet, phone, keys, money, passport, boarding pass etc.), and stuff into your bag, rather than into the tray. Leave a compartment in your bag free especially for this, so you do not need to rummage around for these items afterwards.
4. If you have liquids, check these in. But if you can’t, have them accessible in the airline approved ziplock back, along with computer in the top of your bag. If the computer is in a case, take it out of the case ahead of time.
5. Put your laptop through in tray #3.  As it’s your turn to go through security:
1. Take your shoes off first and put them through first in tray #1
2. Then, put your bag through into tray #2. As you lift it on to the bench, take out your laptop (and any liquids), put that through in tray #3
3. Finally, put your jacket, through in tray #4 – The important point is to ensure your laptop/camera go through in one of the middle trays, so they aren’t adjacent to a strangers’ who can then ‘accidentally’ remove your computer instead of theirs. If you have five trays, put laptop/valuables through in #4, to minimize the time it is unattended on the other side.
6. If you’re traveling in pairs, send your partner through first, with minimal ‘problematic’ luggage – i.e. Once your partner is through, then follow with your more valuable items. If you are delayed with questions, your partner can start packing up your items on the other side.
7. Don’t chance it. Security may or may not pick-up that tube of toothpaste at the bottom of your bag, depending on how passionate they are about their job. However, if they do, they’ll drag you away from your other belongings, and want to go through your luggage, while other passengers queue up behind you, and your trays are in the way for everyone else, leaving them susceptible to be ‘moved out of the way’. If in doubt, take it out (or check it in).