Despite the option of staying in Australia over the holiday I decided to go back to Norway for two months. A lot of my friends found this strange, since Australia (in the given time period) has
2. Delicious fruit and vegetables
3. Surf and beaches
4. Just about everything else Scandinavians look for in a good holiday
In Northern Norway (in the given time period) on the other hand, we have
1. No sun for two months
2. Imported fruit and vegetables that isn’t even close to being ripe
3. Snow. And more snow. And ice. (I consider this a bonos though)
4. Extremely high prices (especially when you’re not working, which I wasn’t)
My trip back to Norway took about 30 hours, and when I arrived in Oslo (after nearly missing the flight from Amsterdam), oh snap wait a minute.
Before I continue it’s worth mentioning that when I landed in Amsterdam I ran for 15 minutes straight, then struggled with the fucking ticket machine, had to run back to get my ticket printed elsewhere, and then head to the security control.
I did everything correctly, I really really really hate being stopped by the creepy security people, but apparently not good enough. When my bag went through the scanner (or whatever it’s called) the guy asked me if I had a computer in it. No, I said, the computer was in the next box.
At this point I’m sweating like a pig, looking around frantically, and desperately trying to get my shoes and jacket back on. I probably looked like a drug addict on a paranoia trip, freaking out in fear of getting caught with several bags of naughty up where the sun rarely shines.
After the guy got it confirmed that my computer were coming in the next box, he goes on to ask me if I have a camera in my bag. Yes, I say. Well, I have to look through your bag then, he says. It’s one minute til my plane is supposed to leave, and this is where I loose it. I had been awake for at least 30 hours, surviving on shabby airplane food and dried mangos, and had been away from home for a year. I couldn’t handle the thought of having to wait even more, so I did what most run down adults would do. I started crying like a baby.
I actually had problems speaking as I ripped the camera out of the bag, then realising that he wanted to look through it himself. The poor guy looked pretty terrified, and asked if I had missed my plane.
“Not yet, but Ih-Ih-I wiiiiiill! I haven’t be-be-be-been home in a yeeeaar!!”
Somehow I made it to the gate, and it turnes out that the plane was already delayed by half an hour. Gee thanks.
Anyways. I got to Norway safe, and had a great holiday! Here’s some pictures