Weekend in Oslo (Part 1)

I knew it would happen; I just didn’t know it would be today.  There comes the time where one isn’t sure when sharing no longer becomes caring and the “what-happens-in-Vegas” paradigm should ring true.  Since the moment my weekend started, I’ve been seriously grappling with the idea of NOT sharing the stories of my weekend in Oslo.  “It’s too much,” I thought, “my parents, my family and my not-so uncritical peers will be reading this; judging; disapproving.”  Then I thought, forget it, at least I’ll make a funny story out of it (as you’ll see I say “funny” now because it’s over). So fair warning, what you’re about to read, you may not find pretty, charming, or anything of the sort, but writing this story will be good to remember; who knows, maybe the hindsight-hilarity of it will render it worthy enough of my memoire one day…

This Oslo trip was conceived on the Monday before the Friday that we ended up leaving.  Sitting around in one of the dorm rooms, someone casually mentioned the idea of taking a trip to Norway via the overnight ferry that runs from Copenhagen to Oslo.  Before everyone knew it, the Facebook message had been sent out and 23 of my nearest and dearest friends (24 including me) were completely invested in going on the trip.  The indecision and non-committal nature that seem to plague my generation had simply vanished with the promise of a two-word expression: “Booze Cruise.” The trip was to work as such… for $80 round trip (not including the hostel), we would book rooms of 4 on the overnight ferry.  We were to leave Friday afternoon, arrive in Oslo Saturday morning, spend a night in a hostel Saturday night and take the ferry back to Copenhagen on Sunday afternoon, returning Monday morning.  We had 10 girls and 14 boys going on the trip, and after our rooms of 4 were booked, we booked rooms of 6 at an apartment-style hostel in Oslo. (Private rooms with a kitchen and shower; aka no sharing a dorm room with some creepy old guy from some Soviet-bloc country that is so fresh from independence that no one’s even heard its name)

The plan was great until the hostel was completely booked after only 2 rooms had been filled by our group (we learned later that the Oslo marathon was that weekend and there was an influx of visitors on Saturday) but I was lucky enough to be in the girls’ room that had been booked and the 6 guys who would be staying at our hostel were shaping up to be quite the entertaining group. (the other half of the group found another hostel just outside of the city) But once this little hiccup had been reworked, we were raring to go. It actually ended up being good because being in a group of 24 all weekend would have been miserable.  We woke up Friday morning to a cold, cloudy windy day; clearly the best weather for a 17-hour boat ride. After buying our alcohol, cleverly concealing it in the never-to-be-detected water bottles in our bags, and packing up, the group was on its way to the train/metro stop that is a short 2-block walk from our dorm.  Did we make it there in one group, you may ask? Why NO, of course we didn’t and as half of the group jumped on the train, the other half stood angrily waiting for the few stragglers who decided to take a quick sojourn on the long, demanding voyage of about 400 meters.  

We got off of the train at the Nordhavn (“North Harbor”) stop and walked along what ended up being the Berlin Wall of impassable train tracks until we realized we would have to turn around, back track and go out of our way to get to the only railroad crossing within miles of the stop.  This did, however, give the other group (the ones who had to get on the next train) time to catch up to us and once we successfully crossed the tracks, it was an easy 10-minute walk to the boat.  What was waiting for us, I must say, was quite the surprise.  We were not simply taking a ferry to Oslo, we were taking a cruise.  Slightly smaller than a regular cruise ship, the “Pearl of the Seas” sat beckoning to us with her sweeping promenades, cafes, pool, cinemas, and bars.  Before anyone gets too excited (shout-out to the fam right now…) there was no all you can eat buffet on this cruise because, after all, this my friends is Scandinavia, the land of the $6-dollar tap water and where you have to pay for the bread that they put on your table at the beginning of a meal.  

Because, naturally, we had all booked the same lowest-fare rooms within 15 hours of each other, each room was on the same deck on the ship and after we literally walked on to the zero-security boat (there was a quick passport check just to make sure that your name matched your boarding pass) and put our stuff down, we began to explore just to realize our biggest fear.  Now, to those born before approximately 1986, this may not seem like a big deal, but believe me, to us, not having working cellphones, especially in a group of 24 people, was a logistical nightmare.  However, once we discovered that there was an on-board duty free shop with discounted, readily available alcohol, you can bet your ass that the group met up near the cash registers, smiling with the sweet satisfaction of a well-made purchase and the anticipation of a night to remember…or not remember, as was sort of the plan.