Crossing Paths in Oslo

Summary

A traveler's serendipitous experiences in Oslo, Norway, are recounted, including encounters with locals, jazz music, and cultural discoveries.

Abstract

The narrative follows a traveler from California who arrives in Oslo seeking relaxation and finds it in unexpected places. The traveler enjoys a local beer at Cafe Håpløs, humorously noting the irony of the cafe's name, and settles for a sandwich from a surprisingly well-stocked 7-Eleven. A chance conversation with a bartender leads to a memorable jazz night at Herr Nilson, where the traveler meets local artists and experiences the vibrant nightlife until the early hours. The traveler also visits iconic locations like The Vigeland Park and Nasjonalgalleriet, and shares a poignant moment under an umbrella with a local who reveals personal stories. The journey concludes with the traveler giving away a sketch, the only one they kept from the trip, and reflecting on the allure of distant cities.

Opinions

The traveler finds humor in the name of Cafe Håpløs, appreciating the dark humor behind it.
The traveler is pleasantly surprised by the quality of food available at a local 7-Eleven in Oslo.
The bartender's recommendation to visit Herr Nilson for open mic night is highly valued, leading to a memorable experience.
The traveler is initially confused by the late start of the jazz band at Herr Nilson but ultimately enjoys the energetic performance.
The traveler is impressed by the local talent, including singer/songwriter Randi Tytingvåg and actor John Brungot.
The traveler reflects on the beauty of exchanging stories and art, as evidenced by giving away a sketch to a new acquaintance.
There is a sense of melancholy as the traveler witnesses a local's discomfort on the streets of Oslo, highlighting the contrast between the traveler's romanticized view of the city and the reality for some residents.

It’s all about the locals

After the long flight from California, I arrived in Oslo looking for refreshment. Ale was found at Cafe Håpløs on Øvre Slottsgate and as I sat at the bar I pondered the spelling and pronunciation of Håpløs. Using what I had studied about Norwegian in the weeks before I was able to sound out the Nordic characters and had a good laugh once I understood the cognate. It was quite far from my state of mind but I appreciated the dark humor.

I asked if they serve food, no, but there is a 7-Eleven one block away on Grenson with sandwiches to go. Hmm, not what I had in mind but hunger got the better of me and I took the short walk to a rather small 7-Eleven. It was not what I expected, no ancient greasy hot dogs rotating under heat lamps, instead, there was actual food in the refrigerator case including paper-wrapped “pakken” sandwiches.

I returned to the nearly deserted cafe and sit at the bar, making light conversation with my bartender. He asked if I like Jazz, and hearing my agreement, says I should go to Herr Nilson (named after Pippi Longstocking’s monkey) on Wednesday for open mike night. Perfect timing, as I would be returning to Olso from Bergen on Tuesday.

Vigeland sculpture, photo by the author

After an early morning of tour of The Vigeland Park, coffee on the rooftop of The Grand Hotel, and more art at the Nasjonalgalleriet I found my way to Herr Nilson at 9:30. The place was dead. As my most recent experience with live jazz had been in Pasadena where the last set ended at ten, I asked the bartender if I was too late. A raised eyebrow was followed by an explanation that the band does not even arrive until ten. At eleven the band finally showed up, my second pint almost dry. I joined the conversation at the next table, meeting John Brungot and Randi Tytingvåg. John was currently playing the lead in Arsenic and Old Lace at Nationaltheatret and Randi was a singer/songwriter.

At the stroke of midnight, the band finally started and based on the energy, could easily be forgiven the late start. They played solid sets without a break until three in the morning. Randi sang some sultry tunes that night and you can hear her on YouTube.

After closing, I talked with one of the other singers outside. He asked me why I chose to visit Oslo the way I might ask someone from Norway why they would want to visit Sacramento. The cities far away seem to sparkle most.

The only sketch I got to keep is the one I gave away

I shared my sketches from the evening and since he liked them I gave him the one of himself, taking a quick snapshot with my flip-phone under the light of a streetlamp before tearing it out. He was grateful and said he would give it to his young son. After returning to California I lost the sketchbook so the only sketch I got to keep is the one I gave away.

Sketch by the author

A soft rain was falling and as I put up my umbrella to depart a diminutive man who just bid farewell to his friends asked if I would share. I said that would be fine if he didn’t mind heading for the train station. As we walked, he shared portions of his life including an affair with Brian Singer. The streets were empty until we came to a late closing bar and a trio of burly, singing, drunken men came spilling out. In a blink, my traveling companion had made a U-turn and was heading away from the potential trouble. I was amused by him but saddened that he needed to suddenly seek refuge on the streets of his hometown.

The trains had stopped running at 1 AM and I hailed a cab.