An Oslo Fjord Tour

One of the beautiful things about life in London is the ability to jet away to European destinations for the weekend. One of the beautiful things about travelling with Dawn, a friend from my early Hornsey School days, is that she's an organiser. And so, in early August, I found myself on the receiving end of a completely booked weekend trip to Oslo.

When it comes to Scandinavia, I seem to make the same mistake time and time again. I've only ever graced the shores of these magical lands in the dead of winter. Finland in February; Denmark and Sweden in February; and now, Norway in December.

And so, for a weekend away, I checked my luggage in order to accommodate the boots, jumpers, socks, thermals that would be needed for the sub-arctic weather. And wow, was it cold. I can't remember specifics but the air seemed a lot bluer, a lot thinner in this southern part of the country.

And despite the limited daylight, when the sun was out, my goodness the scenery was stunning. Central Oslo seemed jam packed: 

Just kidding. We had two big itinerary tickets: fjord tour and Christmas market. So we took to the seas for a boat tour that quickly sold out. In winter, the service is less frequent. On the upside, in the winter, it comes with blankets.

Don't be mistaken by the low hanging sun; our trawler took us out at midday.

 

I could spout lots of facts here. That there are over 1000 fjords in the country. That they're all glacially formed. That they represent an untouched Norway of yesteryear. Or I could show you some stunning pictures that might entice you to go visit them yourself.

My favourite building, the Oslo Opera House, was built to represent a glacier depositing itself into the fjord itself. Ingenious.

These little houses are summer cottages where locals come to ditch their clothes and take a dip. They're now quite expensive to own but back in the day were an icon to endless summer days.

And then we literally boated towards the sunset.

The boat stopped several times with options for debarkation. From our table with the blanket and the reasonably priced mulled wine, we stayed put for the whole journey. When we eventually found our way back to the city centre, we'd frozen through the middle. And so, after suitable indoor thawing time, we eventually found a restaurant where dinner wouldn't cost both arms and both legs. 

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for a reasonably priced cocktail bar. So we wandered to a tiny little tented Christmas market in one of the town squares before trundling back to the hotel for room-side drinks. 

Dawn, having left no stone unturned, remembered to buy wine at Heathrow Airport. Now that's planning.