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I smiled through that one, even though it hurt like hell. “Of course I do. But I’m in Norway alone and could use the company.” I glanced at the parents. “Feel free to tell me no, I know this is a weird proposition. I just got in to Oslo yesterday and, so far, I’m not all that impressed. Maybe seeing it all through your eyes would help.”
The mom mulled that over for a while before the dad spoke up. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Shay.”
And that was that. So, together, we’ve seen the Viking Museum this morning, which was a nice respite from the rain and I got to show off my geography skills by telling them about the various Viking ships and the history of the people (which I hobbled together from actual textbooks, Lonely Planet, and binge-watching Vikings), and then we took the tram and walked a bit to Frogner Park and the Vigeland Sculpture Park in the middle of it all.
On a nice summer day, this place must be nothing short of amazing. But it’s late April here and not only do we have gloomy weather to contend with, but the buds are barely appearing on the trees and though the air smells sweet, there’s enough chill in it to seep into your bones.
You’d think I’d be used to this weather since I just spent so much time in Ireland, but there was something about that place that made it all more bearable. I think it was Mumsy, the innkeeper whom I was helping out, and the townsfolk that I got to know. Even Capri would have some dark and quiet days in the fall but, being around friends and keeping busy with work, I never paid it any attention.
Needless to say, it threw me off guard. For all that I’d been looking forward to with Norway, I felt personally offended that the country didn’t bring out the smiles and sunshine just for me. Kind of nuts to think that, I know, but then again I’m tagging along with a British family I don’t know, so what do you expect?
I head down the steps, taking in the fresh scent of the rain and trying to find the positive. I’ve decided to spend another day in Oslo, but then I’m hoping on a train and heading up north, where I really want to go.
My heart starts to thud at the thought, an uneasiness running through me. So far I have plans for the train to take me to Trondheim, then I might go up north to Tromso in the Arctic Circle before heading back down the coast, maybe taking the ferry along the fjords. There’s a million different places to explore in this tall, narrow country, and yet the fact that I’m going to Trondheim puts me a bit on edge.
Trondheim is supposed to be just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Anders Johansen, the reason I became so obsessed with Norway to begin with.
“You up for seeing the royal palace, Shay?” the dad inquiries as I approach them, making the thought of Anders vanish from my mind. “You’re not cold?”
I shake my head and give them all my most placating smile. “Not at all. The palace sounds wonderful.” I smile at Michelle. “I’ve always wanted to see a princess, haven’t you?”
“We’ve seen the Duchess of Cambridge drive past us in their car,” Stuart says, sounding both bored and proud. “She had her finger up her nose.”
“Stuart,” his mom quickly admonishes him, while the dad tries to bite back a laugh. “We don’t talk about Kate Middleton that way.”
“Well,” I say to them, “I’ve read that the princess of Sweden was a commoner when she first met the prince.”
“Like you and me?” Michelle asks. “Ordinary people?”
“That’s right. Which means it’s possible for any girl to become a princess if she wishes.”
“It means you have to live with a boy though,” Stuart says smartly. “That isn’t me. He’d probably be worse than me.”
Michelle draws her lip between her teeth and seems to think it over. “I don’t know. I bet I could find out a way to be a princess without having to live with any boys.”
I grin at her parents. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“Yeah, hope she keeps it that way,” her father says, as we head off out of the park.
The rest of the day goes fairly well. We find our way to the palace, which is perched at the end of Oslo’s most iconic streets, presiding over it like a giant wedding cake, and watch the guards do their serious strutting while Stuart does some pretty funny commentary over it. Seems all Brits are born with the best sense of humor.
Our hotel is near the palace, so we end up parting ways afterward, with me giving the family my email and Instagram name in case they want to keep in touch. Even though it was a bit awkward at times having spent the day with this family—and I’m pretty sure I’ve given them an experience they’ll remember, if not rather forget—as I walk back alone, I’m hit with a pang of sadness. It’s the same feeling that I got last night, after I Facetimed with Amber and texted my sister, the realization that even though I want to be here, everyone I’m close to is a million miles away.
