After running around on Oslo public transit all morning, getting lost at least three times, climbing through parks with dastardly turns, and sliding down icy hills, I finally walked into my hostel, HI Oslo Haraldsheim (read my review here) around 10:30 am. It had only been four hours since I landed at the airport that morning, after a six and a half hour flight and not sleeping for 36 hours. I thought I was doing pretty great for no brain function! Truth be told, I wasn’t really thinking much at all by this point.
As I was saying, I made it to my hostel and checked in with the lady at the front desk. I knew I was too early for check-in and that my room wouldn’t be available until later, so I was prepared when the front desk lady said as much to me. Then she suggested that I stay at the hostel for lunch, which wasn’t happening until noon. She says, alluringly,
“Then maybe your room will be ready by then.” But no, I can’t wait that long, I have to head out and start sight-seeing. I’m not staying for lunch. It’s only 10:30 am! Besides, what is lunch anyway? Brunch I get, but lunch? Sandwiches and salads? Who thought that brain trust up?
Before I mad-dash out the door like a crazy person on steroids I ask the front desk lady,
“Is there a bathroom where I can change my clothes?”
“Yes, there’s two on this floor, but the best bathroom if you want to change your clothes is downstairs,” she says. Okay, so she had prepared me for the stairs. What I wasn’t prepared for was this time-sucking vortex of a sub-basement bathroom. Total lack of awareness in hand, I gather myself and my belongings together to go downstairs.
I haul myself and all my things down the designated flight of stairs to this bathroom. I start going through my clothes. I pull out my winter boots and my skinny jeans and throw those on. I add an extra wool shirt to my outfit. I think I tried to brush my teeth, but now we’re really digging through the suitcase and stuff is going everywhere, so that’s enough of that.
“Just nip that in the bud and get out of this bathroom, Emily.”
“I.d., is that you? . . . I.d.?” No response from my inner dialogue. That’s strange.
I exit the bathroom and drag everything back upstairs. I still had some concerns about the winter weather in Oslo and what to wear, so I ask the lady at the front desk if I’m dressed warmly enough. She looks at me and says,
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in that outfit. And you have a big jacket.” Okay, awesome, I’m good to go now.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?” The lady at the front desk asks me again. “It’s only an hour from now.” I look at my watch. How the hell was I in the bathroom for half an hour!? No, I’m still better off getting out of the hostel as soon as possible. I thank her, but say I think I’ll find lunch while I’m out. Now to leave my suitcase in the locker room until I get back to the hostel.
“Is there somewhere I can put this while I’m out?” I ask.
“Yes, just make sure you don’t leave any of your valuables in there. Like a laptop. Just give anything like that to me and I’ll keep it here in the safe for you behind the desk.”
“Oh no, there aren’t any valuables in my luggage. Just my laptop, that’s in my backpack, and I’ll have to take that with me. Wait, do I need my backpack? Should I bring my backpack with me downtown?” I’m asking this poor woman so many questions that require actual decision making.
“I don’t think you need it, you’ve got that little bag there. That should be enough.” Thank god she’s taking pity on me.
“Okay, maybe you’re right, let me see if I can rearrange some things here.” I have no idea what I’m doing.
I give my laptop to the lady before I roll my suitcase over to an empty couch by the front desk to make sure I have what I need with me for the afternoon. Wallet, passport, hand cream, cash, who knows what else. I’m moving things around between the backpack and the suitcase. For whatever reason, I needed to fuss with my suitcase for a while before I parked it in the luggage room at the hostel for safe-keeping. Pulling stuff out. Putting the same stuff back in.
“Wait, do I need more clothes? Nah, she said I’m fine. Am I talking out loud right now? Whatever, it’s irrelevant.” I go back to her, ready to hand over my luggage. A thought crosses my mind. Is a surge protector with multiple outlets valuable? For that matter, what about charging cables, are those valuable too? What about converter plugs?? Where’s my I.d. when I need it to tell me to shut up already?
Instead, I start asking the lady at the front desk all these questions. Oh holy jesus f****** christ. This poor woman. Finally, she just tells me to leave all these things in the suitcase. It’s probably fine, she tries to reassure me. That should have been the end of it, but I can’t stop talking. I’m on a roll. No clue I’m chattering like a crazy person. This woman at the front desk is being so nice to me though.
I can’t help it. I plow ahead with more questions. I start soliciting advice about what to see in Oslo and how to get there. She pulls out a map and starts circling things for me to see. She writes out some information on a post-it note with tram numbers I can take from the hostel to get down to Oslo City Center, some station called Jernban-o something? I’ll figure that out later.
“What about lunch, where should I grab some food while I’m out?” I’m rambling on, until finally, the woman says,
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for lunch? It’s only a half hour away now.” What the literal f***. How is it 11:30 am!? Am I living in a parallel universe where time moves slower than in this reality? It’s irrelevant, just keep asking more questions, Emily.
“Is lunch a good way to meet other people?” I ask.
“Yea, sure, lots of people go to lunch here. It’s cheap.”
“Okay, I’ll go too then.” What the hell? When did I decide to just go to lunch at the hostel? Who’s driving this rollercoaster!? Without skipping a beat, I ask her
“Should I pay now, or later?”
“You just have to pay before you go into lunch.” Okay, so not now, I guess?
While I wait the last half hour out, I decide to get some coffee from the hostel’s coffee machine, which was way more confusing than it should have been. The machine hates me. It’s one of those coffee vending machines, and dear god am I not a coffee vending machine kind of person. The buttons won’t work, it won’t take my selection, then my credit card won’t go through. I have to ask the lady at the front desk (yet again) to help me. She’s still being very friendly, but at this point some part of my brain is starting to worry that I’m taking up too much of her time. Back in reality, the coffee machine is being so pissy with my credit card, and it’s taking so long, that the front desk lady ends up giving me free coffee.
By now, I realize this woman actually has work to do, so I try and stifle myself Edith, and I go wait in the hostel kitchen to keep out of her way. Okay fine, that’s not what happened. I tried to hover quietly at an empty table near the hostel entrance, and probably asked this woman about paying for lunch five more times, until she suggested I go wait in the kitchen around the corner. I went to wait in the kitchen . . . frantically. I don’t know how one waits frantically, but that’s exactly what I was doing. No brain cells. Waiting around in a kitchen. Feeling frantic. It’s okay though—I was in Oslo at the time.
Finally, it’s noon and lunch starts. I head into the dining room (I might have paid for lunch by this point), super pumped about meeting people. When I walked in there weren’t many people, so I plunk my jacket and my tiny bag down at an empty table. You would think that was a relatively innocuous thing to do, but somehow that too ended in confusion.
I leave my stuff to go pick through the short buffet line. I get back to my seat with a plate full of food only to find this table is now full of people speaking Norwegian who all clearly know each other. They didn’t even realize there was some random person’s stuff at their table until I show up, looking mortified. They apologize for taking my table and tell me I’m welcome to sit with them, but it feels kind of strange, so I just move to an empty table. “It’s fine,” I think, “maybe I’ll meet some other people traveling alone this way.” Except now I realize that everyone at lunch appears to be traveling with someone else, because I don’t see anyone sitting alone except for me. I shovel my food down and get out of there as fast as I can. At least lunch was cheap.
And now I’m really leaving the hostel. Out into the wilds of Oslo. Back through that damnable park, likely riding public transit around for seven more hours. Bring it on, girlfriend. I’m in Norway.