Where to start? Leeds. We went to Leeds with a few other people a couple of weeks ago, which, by train, takes about 20 minutes. A few days prior to this, Katrine and I were at a birthday party where we mentioned this to someone (who was from Leeds) and he said ‘Why?’ Well, we went anyhow. Of course, I was the only guy on the trip, so naturally a good deal of the day was spent trudging around in various shopping centres. To be fair, this isn’t Katrine’s cup of tea either when visiting some place new. Before all of that though, we went to see the ruins of a Cistercian monastery, where I learned that they used cabbage leaves as toilet paper. There was a replica leaf (unsoiled) in the museum. Not great brassica lovers apparently, those monks. We further learned that they must have been a bunch of massive party poopers, as they had to be absolutely quiet during meals, could only sit by the fireplace for a miniscule amount of time (in that draughty, dark and dreary place), and, for a long while, only ate vegetables (which brings up interesting questions cabbage-wise). Then shopping rahrahrahrahrah, and then, after searching for a good bit, we had dinner at a Chinese Buffet.
This was a rather seedy place, but it was relatively cheap and 80 per cent of the food was deep-fried. Ever since discovering l’ Art de Buffet as a small boy in a restaurant aboard a large passenger ship (actually I think this was when we first moved to Norway) I have never been able to accurately judge how much would actually fit in my belly (I seem to remember a huge heap of small sausages and two parental I-told-you-so expressions). Because the first time you go around you just grab anything good you come across, don’t you? Instead of scouting out the whole buffet first... So I end up with a big plate of good stuff and then I have to go for another round because somewhere along the way my plate was full. And then, while I am still eating I usually discover someone else in my company who has started dessert, and then I have to try that too. But of course, there is always ice cream AND those standard selection of tinned fruit and cream.At the end of the day we went to see Leeds –Walsall. Not the most exciting match set-up perhaps, but still jolly good fun. We were seated amongst all the Leeds fans (angry, angry men), the Wallsallers having been allocated to a little corner somewhere. We missed the first goal (Wallsall) because Katrine was being a potty-mouth and I lost focus on the game. Every time a Wallsall player was taking a penalty or the keeper was preparing to kick the ball, the stadium erupted in a beautiful unified ‘oooooOOOOO-MISS-YE-BASTARD-AAAAAaaaaaaah!’ It was marvellous. As was the great cheer that went up when the referee was hit in the head by the ball and bit the dust. This was very understandable, naturaly, as Leeds was losing (1-2 in the end) which was variously the fault of the referee, some new player, some player who was going to leave the club etc. All in all though, (probably because we didn’t care one way or the other who’d win) it was a great experience! And thanks to Stine Mari for organizing the whole thing!
Some weeks later York held its annual Viking Festival, the 25th this year. We didn’t see much of it, apart from hordes of children with the most horrific wounds on their faces (judging by the happy faces this was make-up) and a market with stalls from all over the world. We found a Dutch one and bought some poffertjes (small, Dutch pancakes) and a Frenchman where we bought a pork, a wild boar, a pheasant (well, some bird anyway) and a chorizo sausage. I went into a big tent with Viking traders, who sounded like they were from Eastern European countries. They had lots of swords and pins and little things carved from bone. And that’s about all we experienced, even though they were at it for a week. But the sausages are good.
Sometime after that two of Katrine’s friends, Synnøve and Nadir, stayed with us for about a few weeks. We went to something called evensong which is held almost weekly at York Minster. It was a very stiff and ceremonial happening with lots of reading of passages and singing of hymns. This was all extensively explained on a little card in our pew (rise. sing. read this aloud. turn that way). I went through the motions but, as devout atheist, didn’t feel a particular need to join in on the ‘amen’s’ and ‘I’ve been bad but do allow me to worship you, prithee’ (which was a bit too much for the Lutherans with me as well, I gathered). So been there, done that, although the Minster itself is very nice indeed. I can especially recommend the crypt!After visiting The Viking Museum (Jorvik) (which was a lot of fun when you are transported through a Viking settlement with Norse-speaking Viking puppets but is more for children really) we went out hunting for ghosts. York is famous for its ghosts and has several Ghost Walks, so we figured we’d go and see what that was all about. We turned up outside a pub by the Ouse where there was already a small gathering of prospective ghost hunters and were met by an elderly man in a black trench coat, black gloves, a black hat and a slight cold. He was lovely and ended every talk with ‘if you would just .......... follow me’. We heard some entertaining ghost stories (including about one near where we live), among others about Clifford’s Tower where, in the Middle Ages, the persecuted Jewish inhabitants of York had withdrawn and consequently committed suicide. According to our guide the walls of the tower look much redder than the walls of the surrounding buildings (which have been built using the same stone, although several hundred years later) because sometimes there is blood seen running down them. To us they had about the same colour... We still don’t believe in ghosts, I’m afraid.
In other news, I now have no more seminars or lectures. Huzzah! This because in England you have three terms while in Norway you have two semesters, so that if I had to attend both the spring and summer term I would have too much school (I guess. Which of course is completely out of the question.). I still have two large-ish essays to write and do an oral and aural exam. So I won’t be completely done until mid May, which is when Katrine is done as well (who has school all the way ahaha).
So here we are then, in Bergen, enjoying the company of friends, stable internet connections and water that doesn’t taste of swimming pool.
Finally two recommendations: See The Lovely Bones. Beautiful movie, compelling story and amazing scenery that made me want to a) photoshop and b) make ships in bottles. It’s received a fair share of flak, which I do not understand at all. And also, if you are going to read one non-fiction book this year (month?), pick up a copy of Bad Science by Ben Goldacre, which I think is not only a very useful read but also a very important one.
I will end with this: Yesterday, as Katrine and I walked home from the University we saw two geese waddling along the pavement. There was quite a bit of traffic and the pedestrian crossing lights were still green when one of the geese calmly started crossing the street exactly where pedestrians, human or goose, are supposed to. As the lights turned red the second one crossed while cars patiently waited. They were in no hurry, let me tell you. When we made it across they were eating grass, one of them staring at us defiantly.
