Posts Tagged ‘travel’


I just realized that it is not always easy being a Norwegian in an English mans world. For instance, one of the great vices of Norwegian people with half a grasp of our beautiful language is the dividation of words. Oh the hilarity which arises when people split a word that wasn’t meant to be split.

Why am I rambling about this? Well, brussels sprouts is the correct way to write it, as confirmed by THE ALMIGHTY WIKIPEDIA, HAIL! Alas, my silly Norwegian head twitches and wants it to be written brusselsprouts.

Now, I bet you’re thinking, why is this guy talking about brussels sprouts? Well, in about 10 hours, my plane leaves for Brussels. Oh glorious EU-capital and home of countless bureaocrats.  I am leaving, ooon a jetplaaane tralala. Well, my brotha lives there, so I’ma go visit him yo.

Brussel, Belgia: The recently renovated Atomium...bring your camera at night!

These aint no brussels sprouts.

That’s it for this time.

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As I was updating my personal “About”-page to fit more recent events in the location-like department (i.e. bragging about finally leaving Bodø to go live in Tromsø, which is way cooler!) I came to think of a political cause that I care greatly about, that doesn’t get enough focus in todays society, that the politicians deprioritize time and time again, but that is also really important…

Based on the title and this introduction there are two important political causes I could be writing about. Before we continue, would you like to venture a guess as to which one I am going to write about?

[poll id=”38″]

To avoid cheating i will fill some space with a big, old and edited picture of me with crazy hair, so that you can’t see the upcoming text. Do not cheat, capiche?

So… All the reasons why I love trains:

  • Trains are old-fashioned, and thus romantic.
  • There is no stressing when it comes to train-travel. No security check-points, no boarding and take-off and landing and what not. You get on, you hang out, you get to where you wanna be.
  • People are nicer on trains. (Probably because of the romance and lack of stress thing.)
  • I always meet the nicest, funniest or most interesting people on trains.
  • Trains are better for the environment.
  • You’re never as rested after a nap as you are after a nap on a train. (At least I ain’t…)
  • Trains are means to traveling that aren’t airplanes. Airplanes suck. Logically: Trains must be amazing.
  • Last but not least: How can you NOT love this:

There is only one problem when it comes to my current living situation and my love for trains… Tromsø doesn’t have a railway.

Bodø is the last stop on the norwegian railway. Everything north of Bodø and Fauske  is train-less. (Except for the stretch between the norwegian town Narvik and the swedish town Kiruna, originally used to transport ore, or something…)

Why is the north of Norway without trains? Because the only one ever to actually bother building railway in the north of Norway lost all power before he finished. I am of course talking about Hitler, so it isn’t a bad thing that he lost all his power, but it would have been nice if the norwegian government had continued his work in this general area. Like they promised to do. Time and time again. But never did.

There is a railway-station in Tromsø, actually. And 4 metres or something of actual tracks. They were promised a railway by the government, you see, and celebrated this by building a station. And aquiring 4 metres of track to pass this station. The train never arrived, and the station is now one of the pubs in Tromsø with probably the highest age-average. (Oh, and I’ve been there and will be there again, because I loved it a bit…) As for the 4 metres of train-tracks, they are leant up against some wall. 4 metres of train-tracks aiming for the sky. A true railway to heaven.

Anyways, I’m clearly trailing of, and I’ve lost all track of time, so I think this will be it for today….

Forever yours,

(Ps.: None of the facts in this entry have been checked against accurate sources. So it may be 8 metres of railway and not 4… Please don’t choo me! And I don’t think there’s any big mistakes, I’m just covering my tracks…)

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It cannot be denied that Jamaica is the most naturally beautiful place I’ve ever seen with my own two eyes (as opposed to someone else’s own two eyes). The colors are so vivid; bright blue water, intensely green tropical forest, pink, purple, bright yellow flowers- it’s absolutely picturesque.

Yet, when I looked a bit closer, I saw shacks tucked neatly between the palm trees- shacks with holes for windows cut in the shambles of material representing walls. I thought to myself, “Huh, I wonder what those are? Must be old ruins from long ago…nobody could possibly live in those.” However, people do live in those. Many many people live in those four walls, more or less, of poverty totally unrelatable to someone like myself, a member of industrialized Western Civilization.

And so comes the biggest beef I have with Jamaica…

I never experienced the real Jamaica. Here comes little Ms. American, easily suckered into believing the mental attitude of Jamaica is to relax and not to “worry about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright.” No, every little thing is not alright. And here I am, taking a luxurious vacation to this romantic, exotic island which in reality is a poor nation largely divided by old racial injustices and social class. In retrospect I feel borderline disgusted with myself.

Needless to say, I was not terribly impressed with Jamaica. The land is beautiful, the people are beautiful, but my experience did not feel genuine. Of course, the explosive diarrhea and vomiting as a result of the terrible resort food/water did nothing for my good opinion. I do not want to sound ungrateful or change anyone’s views on this country, the point of this blog is simply to document my opinions after traveling to this island. If I ever go back, I do not want to be catered to as the middle-class foreign folk looking for a relaxing, albeit hypocritical getaway. I want to get to know the real Jamaica.

Until next time, adieu adieu to you and you and you!

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