Does It Snow in Scandinavia?

Before I say anything else, I want to thank you all for your comments and support. This hit me out of nowhere. We thought it was her back that was giving her the trouble. There’s some kraut expression that grief shared is lighter than grief felt alone and I’ve always thought that was bubkes. But its not. There is a value to other people having felt the same thing. Cleo was one of those special cats that was more Spirit than cat and she saved me more than once. She is missed terribly.

It’s time for something less depressing don’t you think?

I cleaned the house from top to bottom yesterday and even mopped. I never mop. I hire someone to mop and only then every six months or when Sparky’s mother comes to visit. I did some gardening and I fixed the slow drain in the shower. I have no housework to do anymore. I could organize more, but when you live with Markus, organization becomes less of a goal and more of a sign of mental illness. I need to keep a little chaos to keep his OCD in check.

Well, let me tell you about Scandinavia. I’ll just do bullet points (without bullets because I don't know how to do those in blogger and I don't have the patience to figure it out right now) of relevant observations if you don’t mind.

Scandinavia in General

We think it might snow there in the winter, but we’re not really sure.

Denmark, Sweden and Norway all have their own currency. Let me clarify: There is the Danish Krone, the Swedish Krone and the Norwegian Krone. The Danish win for the prettiest coins because they have hearts and crowns.

Burger King accepts Visa.

It is a seriously slow driving region with a max speed limit of 110 km.

Smoke free restaurants. Less smoking in general. Very cool.

I have never before seen so many blondes in my life and I used to live in California.

Denmark

Totally cool, clean and the widest streets I’ve seen since Salt Lake City. I don’t know how they’ve done that since they are one of the oldest cities in Europe and a Harbor city, but that’s how it is and it’s beautiful.

Copenhagen is expensive, but you can still get a Cola Light/Diet Coke for less than six Euros, unlike Paris.

I would totally take kids to this city. Lots to do including Tivoli – Europe’s oldest amusement park. It has rides and an arcade and was Disney’s inspiration for Disneyland.

A great hotel – Hotel 27. It’s being newly renovated and Sparky and I were the first to stay in room 275. I have never stayed in a more friendly and helpful and happy hotel in Europe as a whole or frankly, anywhere. These people were awesome and… it was a smoke free hotel. No smoking, anywhere. Free wireless access and awesome brunch with requisite bakery good, the Danish.

The Danish (the people, not the bakery good) really know their design. I mean it when I say it is a gorgeous city. I’ve never seen such beautiful furniture and architecture without the balance of crap. They have the yin of beauty without the yang. I think Germany took the yang.

Sweden

Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

There are no Swedish Fish in Sweden. Are Swedish Fish the bastard candy of Sweden? Do they get exported so as to never to defile the candy section of a Swedish gas station? They had pukey wein berries, but no fish.

There really are Ikeas in Sweden. It’s not just an export.

Speaking of Ikea, every town we passed seemed to be the name of a table or lamp in the Ikea catalog. I wonder if they knew that when they named the towns?

Rea seems to be the Swedish word for Sale. I seem to have a nose for sales.

The Swedish language seems to be a lot like German, but in disguise. They sound similar when you say them out loud, but look very different.

A hamburgare is a traditional Swedish meal and varies greatly from Hamburgers. It’s a flattened Köttbullar, made from breadcrumbs soaked in milk and a meat mixture. Traditional and tasty. Yummy.

Norway

Warmer than Germany, bluer sky and better sunset/sunrise.

My favorite landscape of the three. It looks like the rocky part in “The Never Ending Story”. I kept expecting a rock man to sit up and say “Slooooow dooooown, you are driving tooooooo faaaaaaast”.

The Norwegians are freekin’ serious about driving slow. We hit a max of 90 km/h and every other kilometer had a radar camera. They do warn you, though. “Radar control ahead” seems to be a sort of Babelfish. It’s understandable in any language.

Fjords are freekin’ amazing.

I like Norway because you can wear your sunglasses at night and not look like a poser because you really actually need your sunglasses at night. Thank God for Corey Hart.

Oslo looks like Sausalito without the view of San Francisco. It even has a bridge that looks like the Golden Gate, but its small and white.

Everyone was partying and the streets were full of people. The hotel where we stopped and asked for directions was so busy that it added to the surrealism of sunlight at midnight making you feel like it was early evening.

The hookers in Oslo wore tight jeans and not the traditional hooker wear. It was odd.

I’m going back as soon as I can. Oslo felt like an awesome place to be. Hamish, I think you’d like this city and suggest you go over the summer. We thought of you and Calvin there and not because of the hookers.

The air there is like nothing I have ever breathed before. It felt like a gift, pure in a way I never knew pure could be. Even on the Autobahn. It was addictive and I couldn’t get enough.

In general, Sparky and I learned a few things.

I am never allowed to give directions, either from the map I’m reading wrong or from my gut. I’m always wrong and I’m never right. In fact, I am so totally wrong that if you always do the opposite from my “gut” reaction, you will never get lost. Ever.

Sparky always follows my directions even though he knows I’m going to be wrong because I apparently get all pissy when he doesn’t follow my directions. This is a double positive for Sparky because once my directions get us lost I have to apologize for the bad info AND he doesn’t get yelled at for not listening to me.

Somehow, if Sparky gets us lost in any city in the world, we end up on Hooker Row. Not the red-light district, per se, but where the girls are lined up on corners and using cell phones to call or text whomever. This, for some reason, is unsettling.

Sparky can drive a BMW 540i and use less than 10 liters per 100 km. This is the main reason I am not allowed to drive his car. I cannot and the car tells on me via its onboard computer. Stupid computer.

Traveling without maps in first world countries in Scandinavia works out just fine if you know your cities. I’m still not going to chance it in the rest of the world.