Cyprus

What a holiday! This was actually my first winter get away to date (not that I really needed a get away from all the the skiing and hockey) and I had  very enjoyable and relaxing stay with Per and Lill at their flat in Paralimni, Cyprus.

 
First and foremost, I must say you will never meet a pair as hospitable and generous as Per and Lill! Lill is a great cook and well acquainted with Cyprian cuisine while Per is a highly qualified wine connoisseur. He is equally skilled at scouting out the best Cyprus-grown strawberries in the country; we hardly went a day without a fresh juicy portion for dessert.

They are also both excellent tour guides in both English and Norwegian. We took a few walking tours around the area, and along the Cyprian/Turkish border. The Turkish occupation of Northern Cyprus is interesting, despite its implications. The border consists of a deserted “no mans land”, controlled by the UN, with Turkish and Cyprian watch towers on each side. The current circumstances are the subsequent results of the 1974 Turkish invasion, which happened to occur while my mom was staying at a hotel here in Famagusta with the rest of the family. They were eventually flown out of the country on a Hercules aircraft. Fortunately, I did not witness the same riots as my mom did, although I did become involved with one of the Cyprian guards as we walked past their watch tower! Per and I had intended to walk down along the border to see the UN post, as Per has apparently done on numerous occasions. Our promenade was cut short by a guard at the top of the tower who called, “Hello my friend, go back!” Oh well.

During this same walk, shortly before we approached the watch tower, we passed one of many stinking piles of garbage, which seem to conjure themselves up here and there and everywhere in Cyprus. I took a picture of the rotting tomatoes, cardboard boxes, old plastics, and you-name-it, and immediately afterwards discovered a sign banning all photography. It’s possible that the ban is in place for military reasons, but personally, I believe they are simply embarrassed about the garbage.

Apart from this, the Cyprian landscape is quite appealing, with a backdrop of jagged hills behind you, and an endless blue horizon ahead of you. Not to mention unbelievably beautiful weather! The forecast throughout our stay almost consistently called for rain. They were wrong not once, not twice, but every time! The sun beat down on us nearly every day, and we enjoyed summer temperatures of over twenty-five degrees! The locals apparently find this quite cold, as I was the one and only person to dive into the crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean. I had the beaches to myself, though I did have to share one of them with the old rusty wreck of someone’s abandoned scooter.



With the weather as nice as it was, my only excuse to stay inside was the excessive midday heat. Subsequently, I spent numerous hours outside running along the ocean and training toward the Birkebeiner. Per and Lill’s flat is in Paralimni, a smaller district inhabited mainly by locals, but only a few kilometres from Agia Napa, one of the main tourist centres. The authentic local setting made for some interesting jogging. One day, I was doing sprint intervals on a slight hill, and some local guys cheered me on in Greek each time I went by. I ran several times from Per and Lill’s place to the town centre. Each time I went, almost without exception, there was an old man sitting in a truck at the same place along the road, always with the door open a crack, and always reading a paper. It was definitely one of the highlights of my Cyprian running experiences. I also ran through of the neighbouring tourist communities. It wasn’t nearly as interesting, completely abandoned for the “winter” season, except for that every second building was under construction.
 
I also spent a fair amount of time walking the downtown streets of Paralimni. Per, Lill, Grete, and I went and looked around at the Greek Orthodox churches at the centre of town one day. There are three adjacent churches, each larger and a few hundred years newer than the last. The churches lie right across from the town square, where we joined a Greek Cyprian feast on the last night before Lent. Live music, and free roast chicken was more than enough to keep the locals happy. It was a good atmosphere, and no one seemed to take more than a reasonable share of free beer and wine. A school marching band opened the stage for some traditional music. Unfortunately, they neglected to turn off the background music, so we didn’t hear a single blow of a trumpet. In hindsight, I think this may have been the intention. We took in a little culture again a couple days later at a local dance performance. There were many enthusiastic dancers of all ages, each sporting a variety of colourful outfits. The dances, however, did not take on quite as much variation.


They brought the chicken in the back of a pickup and roasted it over coals on about 100 spits. The chicken was a big hit, and the dishes never made it to the table without each chunk of meat being snatched along the way.


During one of my downtown promenades, I spent a solid 3 hours walking around before eventually discovering that all of the shops close at 12:00 for lunch and sometimes open again at 3:00. I was a little confused, because half the shops that were closed still had up their open signs. I guess I timed it just right. By the time the shops had opened up again, I was tired of walking and ready to go home.

The view from Per and Lill’s place. Notice the water tanks on every roof. Each residence has a large cold water tank and a small hot water tank (solar heated). In the summer, the water is rationed and when they shut off the water each residence only has the water that’s in the tank.

Grete appears to be the official chauffeur in Cypress, or was at least during my stay. But the car was getting up in years, so we all went out to kick a few tires one day. If you’ve ever been sick of lousy salesmen in North America, you should probably re-evaluate your standards. It is quite a unique experience to purchase a car from someone with difficulty speaking English. But that’s not the least of it. Per explained to the man what kind of car they looking for in perfect English, but when the message didn’t get across, I stepped in and tried to help, saying that he wanted a used car, an old vehicle. “Vehicle?”
Yes, the man is a car salesman. One particular car we looked at had “4WD” stamped on the hatch, and we asked him if it was the case.
”Yes, this one is 4WD, maybe.”
In any case, we eventually made the purchase, in a small, cramped office, with a big desk right in the middle, behind which sat a very Greek boss smoking a cigar. I couldn’t have pictured the scene better myself.


Aside from a lot of training, I also used my free-time to read my first Norwegian novel, and translate the school website from Norwegian to English. The reading went well, and although there were many words I didn’t know, I understood the context and enjoyed the book. This combined with the translating helped me further the development of my Norwegian throughout the holiday.

One of the most interesting experiences in Cyprus was our trip to the capital, Nicosia, which also happens to lie on the border, making it “the last divided capital” in Europe. I read that on a sign along the border, and I was disturbed by the notion that they seemed to be commercialising the occupation, using it to attract tourists. The differences after crossing through customs were surprisingly distinguishable. There were far more street vendors selling knock-off Adidas and Nike, etc. on the Turkish side. That’s actually about all there was to buy.
The other thing you noticed right away was the Muslim culture. There are countless Greek Orthodox churches spread over the entire island, only those in the occupied territory have all been converted into to Mosques.
En route to Nicosia, we drove passed what I image were a couple of thousand cement trucks taking up  one line of the highway. It made for a slow trip, but it was interesting nonetheless. They were clearly on strike, and they were making a pretty effective protest.
I made a couple of purchases in Nicosia. The first was a locally crafted bamboo “dilly duduk” (or flute). The second was a T-shirt picturing the island, marked important historical sites and cities. But most interestingly, were the historical dates listed on the shirt:
Byzantine                396-1184
Richard Coer de Lion     1191-1192
Lusignans                1192-1489
Venetians                1489-1571
Otoman Empire            1571-1878
British Occupation       1878-1960
Republic of Cyprus       1960-1963
Turkish Rep of N Cyprus  1983-
I guess even Turkey recognizes that they’re just yet another invader.


My time in Cyprus was very enjoyable. Before I knew it, I was back on a plane bound for Norway. The flight was alright, I sat with a German music scout working with Euro-Vision (a European international music contest). We had a few good conversations, and I became quite aware that I was in Europe when he lowered his voice every time he mentioned communism.


All in all, a great trip!

Another Good Month

Time flies when you’re having fun! As usual, it’s been another busy month in Norway. Lately, volleyball has been a significant time consumer, as we’ve been practicing towards our first game! Although we began before Christmas, we have had very few opportunities to practice since everyone has different schedules and, in the period after the holidays, the players were literally on opposite sides of the world. One class was in Kenya, another in Guatemala and El Salvador, one in Cuba, and a couple classes in Austria (in March, one class will be in Alaska and another in the Himalayas!).



In any case, we have managed to hold a few practices in the last couple of weeks, and in that time, we have learned a rotation (volleyball strategy) in preparation for the game against our neighbours, the Valdres Videregående Skole (approximately the Norwegian equivalent of a high school). During a very recent phone call with the coach at the high school, he asked if we also had a girls team, as they had started one in December and had been practicing towards a game against us. I, of course, not to refuse a challenge, said we did, and then struggled and eventually succeeded in rounding up enough girls and getting a couple of practices in before the big day. So, last Tuesday, I got the gym ready and our opponents showed up at the school- three hours early, so that they could practice and warm up. We folk high school students were actually by far outnumbered by them that day; almost everyone had gone to Oslo for a career fair type thing. The bus back from Oslo was late, but we got the game underway eventually. The girls played first, in front of a large, and enthusiastic student crowd. They lost in two sets but played very well, especially considering the amount they had practiced. Then it was us. During hitting warm-up, I think we were a little intimidating, as their coach confirmed after the game! However, not everyone fully understood the rotation tactics and it showed in the first set. Part way into the second set, we started to relax a little, and we came back from a seven point deficit to push the game to a third set! Our second set really did look good, and we had a lot of good plays and great hits. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, but I can tell you that we lost. It was fun either way, and we had most of the school behind us, cheering, clapping and belting out over-dramatic “ooh”s and “aah”s. We’ve had one practice since then, and there was actually a surprisingly large number of girls who turned up wanting to play. We’re looking forward to our next game!

Much of my time at the school is clearly spent with different sports and outdoor pursuits, but there are also less-structured, quirkier ways to use your free time.

One of these latest endeavours happens to pertain to my sweeter side… Yes, I thought that might capture the attention of all the aunts out there who may be reading this, not to mention my mom (who asks discreetly in every e-mail and Skype conversation about the potential Norwegian blondes I may have become involved with; now I’ve really sparked your curiosity!) …
Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my involvement, as of yet, does not reach much further than volleyball practices. No, the particular endeavour I am referring to in this instance is the honourable 1kg chocolate challenge! (Drum-roll) Yes, the perilous pursuit of greatness and success, far more demanding than any hunt for blond-haired, blue eyed specimens of Viking lineage. The challenge is simple in nature: eat one kilogram of chocolate in one sitting. To date, only the contest’s founder has succeeded; the dog-sledding teacher, John Olav, allegedly ingested 1.00 kilograms of milk chocolate last year. This year, his legend has prevailed, with his recent conquer of a second kilogram of individually wrapped assorted chocolates. I witnessed this feat, and I can attest that each epic jaw movement, and each struggle of his throat directly reflected the revolting mountain of multiplying candy wrappers on the coffee table. Others have taken up the quest, but none have braved the entire trek. I myself do not yet feel up to the task but the looming gateway to manhood keeps me awake at night, and fate ushers me toward my sweet destiny. I must answer, and I kid you not, at this very moment, I prepare myself, as I consume the chocolate bar sitting next to me on the table (really)! I ask for your prayers. I will keep you informed!

Also occurring at the school recently is the LAN marathon. With nearly as much valour at stake as the 1kg challenge, the whole of Valdres Folkehøgskole flocked to the gymnasium, laptops in hand, for the entire duration of the weekend. The event consisted of everyone sitting at their pc’s playing video games together for as long as humanly possible. Does it get any better?! Well, to be honest, it gets a lot better in my opinion, although Nils did express severe disappointment upon hearing that I hadn’t participated. I attribute my passiveness to reasons of computer malfunction, lack of sleep, and most of all, plain disinterest. I spent the weekend telemarking and backcountry skiing instead!


Probing for possible snowcave locations. That’s a three metre probe.

And so it was that I and three other friends took off on a little ski trip last Sunday. We took to the winding highways of Norway after breakfast and after following a semi most of the way to Filefjel, we finely arrived at the Intersport ski shop where Hans (not me) needed to buy some climbing skins. This only took over an hour, and by two o’clock we’d closed the car doors and fastened our bindings! Despite the slow start, the sun was shining, and it was a mere 13 below compared to the –29 which read in the car’s display en route. None of us had been on skins before and we all appreciated the effortless climb up the mountain. We didn’t all make it to the top but it was a fun trip and we even made it back in time for me to skip supper and start another volleyball practice!

Since the trip to Austria, I’ve been on a couple short class trips. A couple of weeks ago, we went on a three day snow-caving trip behind the ski centre. I must say I was a little sceptic as to how we would find enough snow, and not to say “I told you so” or anything like that, but we spent the first night in the open air. This was in fact quite nice as well, but I did prefer the snow-cave of our second night. It was a fair bit of digging, but it was much warmer inside the cave and far more comfortable, especially with candles to light up the snow. Although our efforts were certainly worth it, our neighbouring snow-cavers were not so lucky. Unfortunately, they hollowed out a little too much snow, and were left with a rather overwhelming skylight which effectively defeated the purpose of the shelter. Oh well. And by the way, for those of you safety nuts, our teacher slept in a tent and checked each cave throughout the night.


Here, you see the class huddling together for warmth, as the conditions were not favourable for snowcaving.



I just realised that I nearly left out the most exciting part of the trip! Although, the area was not so remote, our teacher, Magnus, was not so familiar with the snowy roadways. We of course went the wrong way, and had to turn around. We drove the minibus up a driveway and backed out onto the road again. The trailer, on the other hand, took a nice little turn into the ditch! Our class cheered and tires spun, while Magnus kept his focus on the road. I got out and pushed the bus up the hill and out of the ditch, but that didn’t work (really?), so Magnus came and joined and started to unhook the trailer. As he did so, I pictured in my mind, the bus rolling back and squishing my poor friend between the bumper and the nose of the trailer.
Déjà vu. In my traction-less ski boots loaned from Paul, I skidded up the icy driveway, jumped in the moving bus, and slammed on the brakes! I may have saved the house on the downhill side of the road, not to mention the lives of my classmates, but I was too late to prevent a few decent scratches and dents along the side of the bus, from the corner of the trailer. Luckily, we happened to have the odd snow-shovel along on our snow-caving trip, and we eventually dug out the trailer and got back on our way. (True story, although I may have played up certain heroic moments!)



In order to bring myself back to a reasonable state of humbleness, I will recount a series of events which has slowly unrolled since my return from Austria.
A while ago, I was preparing for volleyball practice, but could not find my shoes. Anywhere. Not in my room, not in the hall, not in the dorm, not in the gym, not in the weight room … Nowhere. I even inquired about it at one of our weekly dorm meetings. No luck. I eventually moved on, and made do without my old pair of shoes.
Somewhere along the line, I next became aware of the absence of a certain pair of blue gym shorts I had. I checked everywhere. Not in my room, not in the laundry room, and no where in between. Again, I eventually relinquished the matter.
Then, as I was packing for a trip, I couldn’t find my backpack- which I kind of wanted to find. I checked everywhere, even in the first floor room with which ours was switched while we were in the Alps. Nothing. I thought about the matter a little, and eventually concluded that the last time I had used the backpack was during a trip to the gymnasium in Fagernes.
At this point, everything sunk in. Missing gym shorts, missing gym shoes, and a missing backpack, last used at the gym in Fagernes!!! This had been almost a month earlier, so I didn’t have much hope of finding it. However, I thought I may as well check up at the school. I walked in the door, and sure enough, first thing I see, is my backpack hanging on the coat rack, in it, my shoes, shorts, and even a shirt whose absence I hadn’t noticed! I’m sure it had been hanging there the whole time, and I’d probably looked straight at a good 100 times on my way to and from each meal for the last month.
Mystery solved!

Our most recent trip consisted of a short stay with the dog-sledding class. We slept in tents near the dog-yard, and had a laidback evening around the campfire. Earlier in the afternoon, we did a little skijoring, but my dog, Flaum, didn’t really seem to be aware of that. Then, later that night, we took the sleds out for a night-time ride amid the falling snow. It was really nice and I can only imagine what it would be like under a clear sky of stars and northern lights! The ensuing campfire was quite memorable; with about thirty of us sitting around a massive pile of burning logs, it was probably the biggest hotdog roast in which I’ve ever participated! Although there is no electricity or running water up with the dogs, John Olav (who lives there and owns the dogs, eats chocolate, and is basically just a great guy) brought out the generator, hooked up the stereo and cranked some rowdy Norwegian tunes, further enhancing our nature experience!
The next morning was, well … We had to get up at eight so that we could eat oatmeal and leave by ten to be back at the school for lunch. If we wished, we could get up early and take a second skijoring trip. I chose to sleep, and when my tent-mate and I eventually made it out of our tent by 9:30 (that’s 1:30am mountain standard time if you’re confused), the skijoring crew was only starting to leave. On top of that, we were to find out that there was in fact no oatmeal after all!
We packed up the tent and were ready well before ten o’clock, so I helped some of the others clean up around the campfire. We had to haul a bunch of square bales across the dog-yard, up a small hill, and to the shed. Of course, with only two or three of us, it would have taken quite a few trips to get all the bales over to the shed. Couldn’t we find a simple way to do it all in one shot? Luckily, we had a big tarp with us, so we loaded the bales into a big heap in the centre, and started to pull… Ingenuity has its weaknesses. I guess we slightly miscalculated the extent of our manpower, but we quickly compensated with the help of twenty or so other recruits. Having recalled these events again, I’ve just come up with what would have been a brilliant, if not obvious solution! We should’ve gotten the dogs to pull it, instead of letting them all sit there, laughing at our struggles!
Eventually (maybe 11:30), the others got back from their “early” morning excursion, and we all clamoured into the bus. The backpacks were all in the trailer, and although Magnus was chauffeuring, we were finally ready to go! It was at this point that John Olav informed us that he needed about thirty volunteers to haul firewood up the hill to the shed. Remember, none of us had eaten, and the dog-yard smelled like, well, dogs. We decided against the tarp technique, and got the job done in good time.
It was a fun outing, and just enough to get everything dirty the day before the holidays.


You can see I’m the only one who’s not making a weird face while looking at a map. Because I don’t need a map.

I’ve taken part in a couple of significant cross-country skiing events recently. I think I have mentioned before that I am planning to ski the real Norwegian Birki in March. Earlier in February, there was a Birki seeding race near Valdres which I raced in. 46km of hard work got me to the finish line in 2:57:11. I reached my 3 hour goal and it should hopefully be enough to seed me ahead of a few thousand racers at the Birki (there are 16,000 participants yearly)!
Last Monday, the skiing option class took a day (literally!) to trek the 50km from Beitostølen back to the school. It took a solid eight hours, and it was rather cold if you weren’t moving (about –20). But it was alright. The best part was being one of the first to come down a big hill, at the top of which stood a sign warning about the ice at the bottom. I’ll admit that I did fall; the entire trail was covered in ice, much like a section of trail in Athabasca, where water flows from a spring across the trail all winter long. Of the 30 or so skiers who were with us that day, I would guess that at least half of them fell. There was really no way of warning anyone before they came around the corner, so all we could do was watch, and laugh if they didn’t get hurt (no one got hurt, amazingly)! It wasn’t always the first thing you noticed on such a cold day, but when you did peek out from inside your balaclava, you took in some truly beautiful scenery.

My Norwegian is still progressing, I think? Not too long ago, I was talking about a possible job opportunity here in Norway with a friend, and I explained to her that “det ser ut som jeg kan egentlig jobbe så langt som jeg ville”. Or, “it sounds like I can basically work as slowly as I want”! I had meant to say “as long as I wanted”. At least I wasn’t talking with the boss!
Purely for your entertainment, Peter Solberg, a Norwegian racecar driver, made a similar blunder. I might suggest that his was slightly more humourous, but I’ll leave that up to your judgement. Before I continue, you must understand that he is nearly as famous for his poor English skills as he is for his racecar driving. During an English interview once, he is known to have said, “It’s not the fart that kills you, it’s the smell”! In Norwegian, “fart” directly translates to “speed”, and “smell” to “crash”.
Just imagine how easy it would be to learn Norwegian if there were such expressions for all words!
There is one rather interesting word which has made its way into the Norwegian vocabulary which is not so difficult to remember. Unfortunately, due to its online origin, it is not one I am too keen on using. “Laugh Out Loud”. Among Norway’s youth, the infamous MSN acronym is permeating the Norwegian language, in its transliterated form: “lol”, as a single word, pronounced “lool”. It drives me crazy. “Ya man, great story! It was so lool!” or “Do that crazy lool thing again! It’s so lool!” Ugh.

That pretty much sums up the last month here in Valdres. I guess I could mention that my camera doesn’t focus anymore, so I don’t have too many recent pictures of my own. (It’s under warranty and should be getting fixed right now, so I should be back in business by the time of my next blog post, which could be who knows when!) My luck with electronics is steadily going downhill. My computer only works about 20 percent of the time too, so aside from me being busy all the time, that could serve as a good excuse for my lethargic blogging practices!

I am currently on holiday right now in Cyprus, staying with Per and Lill under their extremely generous hospitality! I’ll post about that later but I will say that the weather is fantastic and I’m having a great time!
The morning I left the school for the holidays, I had a little time to kill, so I figured, “why not take a little skate on the rink before I go”? There were a good two inches of snow, and I scraped the whole rink. By the time I was almost finished, I had about 15 minutes to play hockey before I needed to catch the bus. I say almost finished because, as I set the shovel aside, the groundskeeper came with the tractor and took a quick circle around the edge of the rink to clean up the little snow I had missed. Thanks for the help!

One last thing. Happy Birthday Nils!
I would kindly remind each of you to call him and greet him on his special day! The number is 780-675-5248! He’s not usually very busy, so you can look forward to a good long talk! Don’t forget to mention that his older brother is still older and more mature than him! Lool!



’Til next time

The Alps Experience

I’m afraid that if I’m going to give you the real picture here, I have to tell you that the first week at school after returning from the Christmas holidays was the most boring, tiring, and un-enjoyable week of the year. I spent nearly every evening cooped up in my room mulling over university options and scholarship applications for next year. I stopped every now and again to play some hockey on the school rink which was ready for us when we came back. In any case, I did make some progress and I’ve applied to Augustana to study a BSc.
The next week proved much more exciting than the first. A trip to Filefjell to cap off our avalanche course with some practical training was worthwhile. Not because I was later involved in an avalanche (I wasn’t), but because it gave me my first real taste of fresh Norwegian powder. Great time, spent the whole weekend off-piste, taking drops and floating over the powder.
The educational portion of the trip was in the morning, and involved probing for a ski bag and searching for buried avalanche transmitters, amid other things. It was interesting, but the highlight definitely came in the afternoon when we were free to hit the slopes as we pleased.

My friluftsliv class also managed to squeeze in a short trip on our wooden skis at a small hill near the school before we left for Austria. Mine are 225cm long and 120mm at the widest part, so they floated quite well, but it was difficult to make nice turns. It was fun, and a novelty to ski on a pair of planks that you made yourself.


















Thirty straight hours in the bus and a couple days of icy skiing was definitely worth the reward which awaited us near the halfway mark of our week-long stay in Austria! Although temperatures of over 10 degrees Celsius were enjoyable during lunch, they were not so desirable on the slopes! There couldn’t have been a better surprise than to wake up one morning to the news that Zauchensee was covered in a 40cm blanket of fresh powder! The skiing was obviously fantastic and the trip was great on the whole. We stayed at Tauernhoff (a Torchbearers’ Bible school in Schladming) where we ate breakfast and supper. We also attended evening seminars where Tobias Kley discussed aspects of Christianity and delivered thought-provoking lectures. Tobi is a former boxer and decathlete and he has experienced many struggles, which he drew from on many occasions. The talks made a great contribution to our stay.
At these same meetings we shared the mishaps of the day and voted for a winning nominee who was then made to dance in a one-piece green snow-suit. The dance was pretty epic and the daily winner had to wear the suit on the slope the day after, but the stories were by far the best part. Although I was not a witness, the first day provided a story in which seven of my classmates posed topless at the top of one of the many mountains. They all faced away from the camera, looking out over the valley. All went well until they realised there was a ski-lift ascending that particular face of the mountain! The girls quickly hid themselves from the gaze of those on the eight-person chair-lift… The only problem was that we only had one green suit! We narrowed it down to one particular unnamed individual who sunk down in the snow, remaining stuck as she held her hands over certain body-parts.
College, eh?



The skiing really was spectacular. Tauernhof was located literally 50m from the gondola at the Planai’s base. Right at its doorstep were countless lift-accessible mountains; the map here shows maybe half of them. It was big enough that you could ski the whole day without meeting any of the 50 other Valdres folks unless you left with them in the morning. Great trip.

We continued to Prague for a couple of days on our way home, and although fun, it was kind of anti-climactic after an entire week of skiing in Austria. There’s not much to say about Prague aside from the shopping and gambling opportunities. There were some interesting historic points of interest, but none of them are free of drug dealers; I was offered “hash, weed, marijuana, whatever you want” (gee, there are so many choices!) a total of six times during my stay. A few more long hours in the bus, the first few of which were made enjoyable by a headache and overall body-ache (the result of a lot of telemarking and a couple of solid work-outs), took us to Kiel, Germany, where we boarded a very fancy ferry (where you could shop and gamble) which took us to Oslo. I slept most of the way.
During the home stretch, I began to look forward to sleeping in my own bed again and finally relaxing a little.
It was not to be.















I got home to find the same dirty clothes on my bed, the same piles of garbage on the floor, the same mess in my closet, the same empty box of cookies on my desk- I found everything exactly as I had left it. But no, that was not the problem. Obvious solution here: throw everything off my bed and crawl in, right? No, the real problem went far beyond this.
Everything in my room was exactly as I had left it, every picture on the wall, every candy wrapper, everything lay exactly as it had. The only difference was that my room itself was no longer where it had been when I left. You say what?! Exactly my reaction when Sindre, my room-mate, said (in Norwegian), “Somebody switched our room with Ida and Camilla’s!”
I understood what he said, but I only understood what he meant upon opening my second-floor door to find the belongings of Ida and Camilla lying in my room as if the two of them had been living there since the beginning of the year! I, of course, immediately ran downstairs to Ida and Camilla’s room which lies directly beneath ours with an identical floor plan. The report? Well, I found “my room” exactly as I had left it, as I think I may have mentioned already. It looked as if we’d “been living there since the beginning of the year”. Despite someone’s intricate work in reproducing our room, it felt completely wrong, and the first-floor view just wasn’t satisfactory. Somehow, it just didn’t have the atmosphere.
We considered moving permanently simply to avoid a bunch of unnecessary work, but we all liked our own rooms for some unexplainable reason. The move back up the stairs took a couple of hours, and it was a relief to be finished. I could finally unpack and sleep! Actually, I went out and played hockey first, but…
I must say the prank impressed me. The pranksters have not yet disclosed themselves, but I have a pretty good idea who it was. Sleep with one eye open!

At the moment, I’m trying to fight off a cold. I went for a good long ski yesterday and I think it worsened my condition (nothing too bad, it just wont go away). While I sit here writing, all I can think about is that the other guys are all out training for the Birki while I’m inside blowing my nose. Oh well, such is life.
I had a great time in Austria and I believe I will be going on a randonné trip in Jotenheimen soon. A bunch of alumni arrived here this evening and there is a hockey tournament planned for tomorrow. I’ll be wearing my Habs jersey.

Take ‘er easy.

God Jul!

The Christmas holidays were fantastic! Although I wasn’t home, I had a great time with family in Denmark and Norway.

I had a blast with the Aalborg folks (Hanne, Jørgen, Henrik, and Henriette, and Keld, Sanne, Stine, and Simone, Ruth was also visiting). We of course subscribed to all the good Danish traditions and ate plenty of delicious food. Although beneficial, the “pre-emptive pre-holiday” training turned out not to be completely necessary after all. If you know anything about Keld or Jørgen, they’re not your average couch potatoes… Given the abnormal amount of snow in Denmark, and a couple of brand-new sets of skis (Henrik and Keld’s), we took to the trails of Denmark, which, were actually quite impressive. In three days, we put in a solid five hours of skiing. (And yes, while traveling, I was asked numerous times why I was bothering to take skis to Denmark?) I also went for a run with Stine (fast!) the day after I arrived. While in Denmark, I realized the extent of my progress in Norwegian. Although there is certainly plenty of room for improvement, I appreciated being able to speak Norwegian with the Danish family and being able to understand a little bit of the Danish conversations. It was incomparable with my visit in August. It was a great time with everyone in Aalborg.

The next stop was at Sten, Dorthe, Niklas, and Jesper’s place. We enjoyed further Christmas treats, took in a movie (with Danish subtitles and butter-free popcorn), and went for a very enjoyable hike in the Viborg area. The weather was great (although maybe a little cold for the Danes!) and we went down to the lake where they keep a small fishing boat. Sten and Jesper provided me with some interesting geographic background while we enjoyed the crisp fresh air.

During my stay in Herning with Vivian, Birthe, Torben, Helle, Holger, and Allette, we continued to take advantage of the unusual winter weather. Being avid hockey fans, Torben and Holger had cleared off a hockey rink in front of their house. Along with a few neighbours, we picked up a game which revealed Holger’s very impressive skills! Torben and Helle: enjoy Holger while you can, I wouldn’t be surprised if Canada picks him up in next year’s draft! In the evening, we all piled in the car and went to The Herning Blue Fox hockey game. It was a nice change to be right at the game instead of listening to internet radio at three in the morning to catch some of the NHL. I also stayed with Vivian and Birthe. Birthe, you are a fabulous cook! We had a relaxed visit which was a much needed break. We stopped by Kirsteen’s and said hello but the rest of the family was off at swimming camps and practices preparing for national races! Vivian and I started up where we left off in August and we all had a few good laughs watching some of Vivian’s home videos from the 70’s. I was told lots of stories. Vivian and family had made a trip to Whitehorse when Dad was living there and particular footage emphasized the time-frame. I like your style Dad!

On my way to Sarpsborg to visit Per and Lill, I walked the streets of Gotenberg amid countless decorations and lights for a couple of hours- all while carrying my ski bag and a very heavy and overfull duffel bag. Per and Lill provided their unbeatable hospitality once again and I had a nice New Years with them and many of their friends (without a doubt the rowdiest 90 year olds I’ve met! They’re actually 70 but they could easily pass for 29!). I toured around Sarpsborg a couple of times while out jogging and I later went for a drive along a chain of islands with Per and Lill who provided professional commentary. I was also afforded the pleasure of seeing Lill’s sister, Grete, again, and meeting Flemming and Lisa and their families. I had a great stay in Sarpsborg and I managed to catch up on a lot of sleep which I had missed over the last four or five months.

                                     Lill

Thank-you to everyone I stayed with over the holidays! It was a memorable time and look forward to seeing you all again!

Skiing and More Skiing!

December has come and gone, and with it, has arrived a much awaited and over-due fall of snow in Valdres! I’ve made much use of it at the ski centre, both on my telemark and cross-country skis. In mid-December I was in Beitostølen with my “langrenn” class where we did a 10km classic time trial. I was expecting to get my but kicked by the Norwegians, but as it turns out, I managed to come within a minute and a half of second place! I’ve also experienced some fairly significant improvement on the slopes, but not without some fairly entertaining falls! During one of my more recent trips, after a 50cm “pudderalarm”, I went head over heels down the mountain side, effectively ploughing the snow away right down to the rocks- with my face. I was fairly painfully winded, and after lying there covered in snow for a minute or two, I struggled onto my feet clenching my wrist. But it was all in good fun, because I managed to recover my poles and goggles from beneath the snow and my bindings had held themselves together this time!
Valdres Alpinsenter is not the largest ski hill but its big enough and its not usually too busy, which makes it quite nice. There’s a great view from the top. I took in a nice sunset during my last run before the Christmas holidays.

Of course, as often as I`m out skiing, and as often as I write about it, there are other things at the school with which I occupy myself. After all, something must have been keeping me from posting on my blog all this time!
In pre-emptive preparation for the Christmas season, I’ve been spending many hours on the stationary bike in the school gym.
Also in preparation for Christmas, I’ve spent a fair amount of time playing guitar with my band class, practicing for the school Christmas ball at which we performed. Although we had difficulty adjusting the sound equipment, the performance went over half-decently.

The “Jul ball” continued with what, to my knowledge, is a uniquely Scandinavian tradition. I had previously thought it existed only in cartoons and Dr. Seuss. There were about 150 students and staff in the gymnasium and we all gathered in circles around a tall Christmas tree. We sang carols as we walked and ran and jumped and clapped and spun around the tree in what was at first, true Christmas spirit. There were three or four circles going around the tree in alternate directions. It was nice to experience Christmas from a slightly different perspective but by the time we started singing the twentieth song, I conveniently remembered that my only set of bedding had been forgotten in the washing machine! Not wishing to wet my bed, I mean not wishing for a wet bed that night, I ran down to the laundry room, hoping to make it before they locked the doors for the night. On my out, I was greeted by many Norwegian Grinches, who had also left the celebrations, clearly tired of the Whoville atmosphere. One friend commented:
”It’s fun with little kids. But when there are over 100 people dragging their feet around the Christmas tree, hanging their heads [like empty stockings], and no one is singing, its just…” [When I actually come up with a good simile I can’t help but use it!]
For the record, many people were singing, as I was one of them!

The event-planners took a blind-date approach to the evening, and I had been set up with Hillegonde, a girl from Holland. We had a good time and I sent her home with some poetic words (of the type only a non-native English speaker could appreciate) accompanied by a rose and some guitar. Turns out lameness is cool after all! Oh yes, I almost forgot to mention that we were named King and Queen of the night! In reward we received two Norwegian “crowns”. Fitting, but not enough to buy half ‘ a chocolate bar in Norway.


I’ve also been out dog-sledding again. This time we took it off-road! Or off-piste I should say. There wasn’t yet a ton of snow, so it was a bumpy ride, but it was incredibly fun and exhilerating. The dogs love to pull and the sled miraculously held up to numerous tree stumps and clumps of earth protruding up through the snow. I’m no expert and I still find it quite difficult to steer the sled or direct the dogs (okay, I’ll be honest, I can’t direct the dogs in the slightest!) but we had a blast.
 

It’s been mostly things like this keeping me busy lately. As for the “blog-ly” Norwegian-progress update, it still seems to be improving, and I’m feeling more and more confident in conversations. I’ve decided for myself that at the ski resort, every time I sit with someone on the lift, I have to spend the entire seven minute journey speaking Norwegian. It is actually a fairly helpful tool, because it’s in short chunks, which makes it easier, and it adds up to quite a large amount of time when you ski two full days every weekend. I’m speaking Norwegian more and more often now, but it’s good to give myself some mandatory practice.

One thing I’ve been missing is hockey. It’s never on TV and no one talks about it. Aside from myself and a friend from Sweden, it doesn’t seem as though there are many who play very much. Over the holidays, they are supposed to be flooding a rink at the school, so I will be looking forward to it when I get back. Go Habs Go!
I have been out skating once though. Some friends and I went down to the lake and skated amid falling snowflakes- at two in the morning! We had a great time and it felt nice to finally be back on skates. We glided through the snow for a solid hour and a half before unlacing and trekking back up to our dorms for a couple hours of sleep! We may have been later if we hadn’t noticed a particular sign in the middle of the lake.
”What is that sign there?”
”I dunno. Let’s check it out.”
”It looks like a person swimming.”
”No, isn’t he drowning?”
”No, he’s breaking through the ice!”
I realise that this is a serious matter, especially at two or three in the morning, and that we may have been lucky, but what’s done is done, and what is there to do but laugh? I guess next time they should think about putting the sign nearer to the shoreline so that you don’t have to go all the way out to the middle of the lake to read it!


I hope you have all been enjoying the holiday season. I wish a belated Merry Christmas to everyone and a Happy New Year! I’m currently celebrating with relatives in Denmark and I will be heading up to Sarpsborg (Norway) for the New Year shortly. Next time I will give you all the low down on what has, so far, been a very enjoyable Christmas!

And to finish, here is an updated picture of the wooden skis that I made so long ago. Varnished, signed and refitted with new bindings (after they broke as I was putting them on for their maiden voyage).



Happy skiing!

Same Old, Same Old

Potatoes and fish. Hallelujah!

Need for Speed

I returned from London last week to discover quite an exciting schedule. First thing after the holiday, we put the pedal to the metal and made the trip to Lillehammer’s Olympic bobsledding facilities! I’ve always thought bobsledding to be a fairly extreme sport. Fortunately, we did not have to expose ourselves to such a risky discipline. Instead, we tried skeleton!
In all honesty, I was not actually all that scared or nervous during the pre-run build-up. It was not until a few seconds into the first run that I began to seriously ponder my chances of survival. I’m afraid I won’t be able to provide you with the same rush that I experienced but I will do my best to describe the adrenaline.
Imagine yourself with your face only centimetres from the ice, so close that you can’t actually focus your vision. Imagine the ice shooting past you at speeds of up to about 90 km/h. Imagine realizing that you have absolutely no control of your fate, with your legs and shoulders slamming into the side walls. Imagine a sudden three “G” (plus) turn, which you notice not because you can see it coming, but because you feel it in every part of your body, aside from your hands, which are clenching the sled handles, almost literally in a death-grip.
Now imagine the overwhelming relief that rushes through you when you finally dismount at the bottom, and you realize that you’ve survived!
I’m not even going to tell you to imagine how awesome it was (or how scared I was)!
When everyone had finished their first run, we were given the opportunity to give it another go. Of thirty people, there was only one who actually had any desire to do it again… That number eventually grew to five risk-takers, of which I was one (not to be outdone by four girls). It was not until I had made my decision to take the dive once more that my friends asked me, “Did you hear what happened to Martin?”.
”No, why? What happened? Actually, don’t tell me.”
Having already experienced the terror of the track, I was now quite nervous about gong down for a second time, but once you’re on the way down, there’s no stopping. However, despite the heaviness I felt at the start line, I inexplicably acquired a false sense of confidence somewhere before the first mind-boggling turn. I made it down in one piece.

”Martin. What’s up? The others told me something happened to you on the way down!”
”… Yes… Well…”
”Well?”
”I fell off.”

It wasn’t enough to scare me! I was two for two and I needed a faster time. My third and final run got me through 1.5 km in a mere 72.07 seconds! The track record is 53 seconds so I guess I have a little work to do, but, really, what’s 19 seconds?


The Norwegian is still improving. I’m seeing some things happen that certainly weren’t possible in my first month here. Helping friends translate a Norwegian word to English for instance, or better yet, providing them with the appropriate Norwegian word! Rare events but satisfying nonetheless. Of course, there is also the other side. I sent an e-mail to my Danish relatives, giving an update and inquiring about Christmas plans. I took up the challenge and wrote to to them in Norwegian, to which I received surprisingly positive responses! Of these, my favourite is, “godt at se at du skriver en blanding af norsk og dansk! (good to see that you’re writing in a mix of Norwegian and Danish)”. Thanks Holger! (Not to worry.) I guess there’s always room for improvement.


Last week, someone discovered bed bugs in one of the kitchens. Great! It was announced at lunch and we were told to pack sandwiches for supper because dinner would be cancelled. Fortunately, they were not found in the building where I’m living, so I wasn’t as worried as some. Inhabitants of the infested dorm got to opening windows and putting bedding (and even beds) outside in the cold (-20 that day). Every window in the whole building was open, in order to freeze out the pests.
Instead of dinner, there was a meeting planned to discuss the problem. It was here that we learned the whole thing was one big joke! The “meeting” was followed by a surprise “circus” put on by the school staff.
That night, windows were closed, and beds were sheepishly returned to their places. The best part is that the dorm’s heating system quit that evening!


The ski hill has opened since my trip to London so I’ve been spending the weekends there trying to improve my telemark skills. It’s a lot of fun; I’m going faster and I’m starting to make tighter turns. Of course, I have some falls too. On Sunday my ski slipped out halfway through a turn and the binding broke… It was kind of a damper on such a sunny day but I returned to the school and helped with the construction of my dorm’s Rube Goldberg Machine for yet another of the school’s many “inter-dormal” contests.


Yesterday, I returned from a class trip to the school hut just above the valley. It was quite a relaxing trip; we slept two nights in the cabin and went for a day trip up to one of the nearby peaks (it was the kind of hiking trip where people spend more time tripped up or pushed down on the ground than anything else- great time). On our way back, instead of taking the bus, we took sleds down the road, which was mostly downhill. It was fun, but it didn’t work so well and we had to carry the sleds most of the time. Mostly we just hung out, stayed up late, and had fun; it was a good trip.


My dog-sledding option class is starting to get pretty fun; last week we tried ski-jouring and this week we tied the dogs into the sleds. Ski-jouring was nice but the sledding was incredibly fun, quite difficult to steer though. And you have to dress really warm! With more than 30 dogs it got pretty loud at times but once the ropes were all untangled and you got on your way, the dogs were surprisingly cooperative. It was really nice.



All these trips and outings mean a lot of laundry. I had misplaced my woollen toque, and I couldn’t seem to find it anywhere. It eventually turned up while I was extracting my clothes from the washing machine… It must have made it into my pile of dirty clothes somehow. I think I managed to un-shrink it enough for further use.



Let it snow!