A Weekend in Oslo

View from the top at Frognerseteren.

Within a few hours of landing in Norway, I was having one of the best Saturday afternoons of my life. Mind you, that was kind of predictable the moment toboggans were mentioned! 

 

Frognerseteren is definitely my favourite thing about Oslo. Where else in the world can you catch an ordinary metro to the top of a mountain, hire a toboggan and then skid your way down a 15 minute long, former Olympic ice track?

 

...and then catch the metro back to the top of the hill and do it again as many times as you want?

 

We managed to do it six times. And it was awesome every time. You have to learn quickly how to throw your weight around to stop you careening off the side and down the icy cliffside. 

A big part of the trick is using your heels. The only downside is that you end up sending large mounds of shaved ice shooting towards your nether regions, and everyone on the metro thinks you've wet yourself.

 

In-between races we warmed up at the beautiful old traditional Norwegian wooden lodge, where two hot chocolates and a small pastry to share will set you back just £25 (equivalent). Needless to say, we brought a lot of our own food to Norway out of necessity!

 

Inside, they have lamps made with antlers.

The sun was setting as we ascended the hill for our last ride of the day. That view alone was worth the whole trip to Oslo.

The next morning, after an amazing breakfast at the Radisson (everything is so expensive in Norway that the Radisson was one of the cheapest accommodation options!), we checked out the Royal Palace.

 

The view from our room at the Radisson.

Then we caught a bus to the Viking Ship Museum, which has the most intact remnants of Viking life, including four incredible boats.

This beast is over 1000 years old.

Next stop: Vigelandsparken Sculpture Park, which was far larger than I expected and completely blew my mind with the detail and sheer number of incredible works.

Just one of the many impressive sculptures on display.

The jewel in the crown of the sculpture park is 14m high monolith consisting of over 120 human figures all carved from a single stone and intertwined together. It really is breathtaking.

To cap off our incredible weekend in Oslo, we visited the two major art museums which include Edvard Munch's most famous work: The Scream.

Waitangi Snow

I hear Zoe shriek with excitement. Rushing into the living room, I realise she’s peering out the open window at a thick haze of spiralling snowflakes.

Horizontal snow fogging the lens on Westminster Bridge.

Like a true antipodean, I put on my warm clothes immediately. Before I’ve finished, I’ve had an excited txt from Kat (despite being sick in bed), seen countless facebook updates about the snow from fellow London based Kiwis, and noticed that ‘#uksnow’ is already trending on Twitter.

How interesting to watch modern communications reflect that most basic feeling of joy that every antipodean feels when they see flakes begin to fall. It’s like being nine years old again.

I’m soon on the bus, bundled up tight. I get off at Westminster, determined to see Big Ben under snow. Of course I’m a little premature... 20 minutes of snow isn’t really enough to whitewash parliament!

The central city is filled with rowdy Kiwis, all dressed as sheep or wearing marmite T-shirts. Today was the infamous Waitangi Circle Line Pub Crawl. They're all as obsessed with the snow as I am. I yell "kia ora" and a guy with a full face tattoo smearing across his cheeks grins and calls back "cheers, bro!"

I meet Paul at the National Gallery, where we have tickets to see the Leonardo da Vinci exhibition in an hour (see blog post here).

We fill in the time skidding along Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square under a layer of snow.

One of the infamous Trafalgar Square Lions.

Snow continues to fall heavily the entire time we’re at the exhibition. By the time we leave, London is covered in a thick white blanket. It’s late, dark, and freezing, but people everywhere are running, shouting, and having snowfights.

The fountain in Trafalgar Square is icing over.

We're standing on a pedestrian island halfway across the road, walking towards our bus stop, when I see a an out of control van skidding towards us in what felt like slow motion.

The driver is tooting his horn and looks terrified. I realise he's skidding on the fresh ice, and dive out of the way. He smashes into another guy, and then Paul, then about half a metre later is stopped in his tracks by a traffic light.

Meanwhile, the momentum of being hit by a car has pushed Paul backwards. Spooked, and trying to keep his balance, he runs backwards. Across the road. I hate to think what could have happened if the lights hadn't been red at that precise moment.

On the other side of the road, he promptly slips and falls on his bum. Then stands up and yells at the driver. There's the Paul I know and love.



I go to comfort him. He's white as a sheet, cold, wet, and shaking. He didn't realise the van was skidding on ice until well after he'd been hit.

Our bus stops only halfway home and everyone has to get off. Apparently London transport isn't very well equipped for snow. We walk the rest of the way.

Paul is fine the next day and has barely more than a few bruises to show off, but we both have trouble sleeping from all the adrenaline pulsing through our veins.

Ice Sculptures in London!

After missing the ice sculptures twice in Russia, Paul couldn't resist surprising me when he found out there was a day long competition and exhibition right here in London!

It was a great surprise, and I was amazed at the detail in the frozen water! My favourite was this downhill skier.

Day Two in Moscow: Serendipity

Our second day in Russia was all about serendipity. After dismally failing to see ice sculptures the night before, I had googled my little heart out and learned about the annual Vyugovey Ice Sculpture Festival, which had apparently opened only two days earlier.

Again, we didn't get ice sculptures. It turns out that not only is the All-Russian Exhibition Center absolutely enormous (not so much an exhibition center as a suburb), but it is most definitely not hosting a Vyugovey ice sculpture festival (thanks to this website for putting me wrong!) So, instead of just getting a long walk and some muddy boots to show for it, I got a long walk through a bizarre communist version of a business park! Which was actually pretty cool.

The first thing we discovered was the Monument to the Conquerors of Space, which is was made out of titanium in 1964 to celebrate Soviet achievements in space exploration.

As we walk into the park we're surrounded by buildings like this one. It's creatively named "central pavillion". Inside are some tacky market stalls and an aquarium with sharks. I kid you not. Stalin would turn in his grave!

The Central Pavillion.

The Space Pavillion.

The 'Friendship of Nations' fountain; glorifying the workers.

Though bummed we'd missed ice sculptures for a second time, we felt lucky that we'd had the chance to explore such an unusual, empty, space that could only exist in a Soviet country.

One thing that takes a bit of getting used to in Moscow is the metro system.

Not only do they have escalators so long you could finish a novel...

...and bronze statues and chandeliers everywhere...



...but the metro map is in Russian. Now this is logical of course, except there's nowhere to pick up a copy except the hotel. And the hotel gives you a copy in English.

So, on our map, our stop is called Izmailovsky Park.

On the actual map, it's called Измайловский парк.

Every other station's name is similarly warped between our map and the actual system.

Again, this would be doable, except there's nowhere down inside the metro with a complete map, just a list of stations.

We ended up getting on in the wrong direction, walking in massive loops, or standing in confusion while trains whizzed past just about every time we disappeared down there!

Our last stop of the day was the Tretyakov State Gallery.

It was closed.

I'm getting used to that!

Life Lesson #38 - Ice, Ice Baby

Ice sculptures. That's how I ended up in this park in the middle of nowhere in Moscow. Ice sculptures. 

My best friend came here ten years ago and raved. There were photos. Good photos. I was jealous. Now I'm here to see them for myself, and there's nothing.

Or at least, it doesn't look like there's anything.

We've been walking for an hour since we got off the metro, and finally reached Krasnaya Presnya Park, home of the Gallery of Russian Ice Sculpture, aka an ice amusement park!

Except all we can see is two temporary looking buildings. One is a massive deserted building, fenced all round with an ominous looking warning sign. It looks like a great setting for a nuclear horror movie. The second building is on the other side of the park and looks like a bouncy castle dome. Neither of them looks much like a gallery of Russian Ice Sculpture.

So we walk into the park.

Whoever designed this park has sliced it into long strips by placing a hairpin shaped body of water running the entire length, with a tiny island at the other end from us.

We walk all the way along and get hopeful: there's a truck unloading fridge-sized blocks of ice.

Then we spot this on the tiny island:

Success! Sort of. This photo was taken with a very zoomed in lens. We can't actually tell what the tiny sculpture is. The ice block carrying truck men won't let us on to the island.

So I become convinced that this isn't actually the Gallery of Russian Ice Sculpture. "This is just the foyer of sorts", I say. I'm convinced of this because the website says they're open year round.

I decide we should walk right back along the other side, certain that we'll locate the ice sculptures.

We walk all the way along the river's edge and then discover that we've locked ourselves in. The only way to get to where we want to be is to either cross the river, or walk back.

The river looks sort of frozen. ish.

There's a spot where we can cross without having to put our whole weight on the ice. Just one foot on the ice, the other on mud and rocks. There's a hurricane fence to hold on to on the way down, and weedy looking roots as we cross the water.

About halfway across, I go through the ice. And shriek like Fay Wray.

Thankfully, the sludge beneath the ice is only ankle deep, so though my leather boot looks like it's been up close and personal with elephant poo, I don't tumble in completely.

But somehow my weedy looking root has snapped. Paul's on the other side already and laughing at me.

I make it across.

That's when we realise that we've miscalculated, and rather than being on the other side of the river, we're just on another island-y bit in the middle. We have three choices: go all the way back; cross another, much deeper looking river; or scale a large hurricane fence with barbed wire at the top and walk around.

We scale the fence.

A moment later I see a familiar looking sign and realise where we are.

We're inside the nuclear horror movie. Although on closer inspection, the red warning sign could also say something about live landmines.

Paul want to sneak in further and check out the abandoned building. I'm not sure what'll happen if we do, but I know it will either involve death or the KGB, and probably both.

So I scale one more fence, this one at least 2.5m high, and get groundshock as my feet thud to the ground on the correct side.

We're standing exactly where we were about an hour and a half earlier. We could have walked the long way back around the river and back about four times by now.

You live and you learn, eh?

Oh and we checked out the bouncy castle dome thing before we left, just in case.

It was an indoor tennis court.