Living Hard

I'm living hard, want to make the most of my last days here. But I need to chill out too, or it won't mean anything.

Anyway Saturday I slept in, then Becky and I went around Svartediket to swim in our waterfall. Enjoyed the view, had a little picnic, then I came home and Skyped with my family before a barbecue with Lukas and Monika. It went until late, what with the sun still high in the sky at 10 pm. Finally though it started to disperse, and Lukas and Monika invited me and John (another random American who just arrived) to a party, somewhere far away. We had to all run home and grab our camping stuff, since we didn't know what turns the evening would take.

I had the furthest to go, so I hurried. Ran to the Fantoft bybanen stop. Got off at Kronstad and went the rest of the way to Alrek on foot. Quickly informed Becky and Nash about change in plans, then compressed my sleeping bag, threw everything I needed into my backpack, painted my face and put on party clothes, and ran out to the bus to get downtown. I was actually there ten minutes early, so I strolled through the Nattjazz festival with it's whimsical wooden constructions and the salsa dance and smell of sausages on the streets.

Then I went over and met Lukas and Monika coming off the bybanen, we found John and tried to figure out the busses, ended up making the last free one up to the northern part of town. On the same bus we met a few others headed to the same party, they helped us find the stop and then we started hiking up through the darkness on the Munkebotn path, looking for this mysterious party.

We were hiking straight up mostly, taking shortcuts instead of following the paved road, so we quickly left our new friends behind us. We kept passing groups of people on bikes, smoking pot. Suddenly, sirens and lights. As we hiked up the shortcut between switchbacks, the police car drove up and talked to some of the bikers. All very calm and relaxed. As we emerged from the woods and passed them, they didn't so much as spare us a look.

The path got darker. We started to doubt our directions. But suddenly we started to hear music - far away but unmistakable. Another few corners and a bunker came into view, lit candles on the staircase, strange music and lights, people sprawled out everywhere over a remarkable view of summer-twilight Bergen. We went back and forth from the chill viewpoint to the inside of the bunker, where banners were hung over the small windows to keep out the sun and green, red, white lights danced around us. Cloudberry liquor and tequila and Daim Chocolate.

The party was set to go on until 10 am, but we left around 4:30 and climbed the rest of the way up the mountain. It was almost fully light by then, we scrambled to find a campsite up on top of Svartediket before the sun came over the ridge. Felt like we should be packing up and making breakfast, not saying 'goodnight'. Fell asleep nearly on the path, slept about 4 hours totally dehydrated and in the bright sun. Was proud of my sleeping bags versatility. Woke up in the 'morning', and went for an impromptu swim in the perfect, cool lake water.

John was freaking out, what was this, we were so close to the city, we had walked here from a rave, and it seemed like we were so far from everything - on top of a mountain with the pines all around. Drinking from clear streams and swimming in the cool lakes. The air smelled so pure.

I know, I know. Can't decide if it's good for me to meet John now, hear his first impressions. This was his first trip up into the mountains. I remember mine. Partly I've gotten used to it by now. Partly I haven't. I certainly haven't gotten used to being used to it. I smiled for him, for myself. His time here is beginning as mine is ending. A beautiful sort of pain as we put our bags back on and walked the well known trails over to Fløyen. I kept asking myself if this wasn't the last time I'd see that pond, that stream, that tree. But it's useless to think that way.

Raspberry chocolate ice cream from the kiosk over the city. The place was swarming with tourists, and again there was this wave of strange feeling. 

Went down to the city and met Becky, and we headed up north by bus to Gamle Bergen, a sort of open air museum with 18th and 19th century homes and a few reenactors. There were a handful of people walking around, but most of the people in the area were there for the seaside access, with it's diving board, sunning areas, sparkling blue water.

We headed back downtown afterwards and had a very rare lunch out at Zupperia. I had Rudolph's Soup with reindeer, berries, mushrooms, and cream.

I stumbled back to Alrek and put down my things at long last. Hiking around with my backpack and just a spaghetti-strap party shirt on had rubbed my shoulders pretty raw. I wasn't sure if I had the strength, but I'd promised Ffinlo and Sylwia a hike up Løvstakken, so I put a smaller day-pack together and set off with them, semi-deliriously.

We were always sort-of and never completely lost. Paths became smaller, bigger again, joined others, split constantly. We just kept walking, uphill when possible, towards the peak when possible. The sunlight was bright and strange. We sang silly songs and made ridiculous jokes that barely made sense. Finally we reached the infamous section of the ropes and metal bars, the climby bit. Sylwia got nervous, I had to come down and help her over one section. Then she got really eager and half-sprinted the rest of the way up. My legs were a bit shaky towards the end.

Beautiful view from the top and water in all directions. I could tell why people liked it, but I guess I still prefer the views from Lyderhorn, Sandviken, Ulriken. More photogenic, this one was too spread out and there was no obvious peak in a way. But lovely. Lovely, lovely.

I've gotten so used to mountains and sea and boats all fading into a blue mist below. The painful beauty of the sinking sun. It's awful. One shouldn't be able to get accustomed to such things. It should be a rare and hard-earned pleasure. But here it's been commonplace and that's ruined me. Tea and quick lunch and brownie-flavoured milk. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

The way down was easier, a well-worn and stony path. Our feet were killing us though and we couldn't figure out how people manage the 7-Mountain-Challenge. Still, I would probably go for it if I had company. Totally unsure as to whether or not I would be able to finish. It would be hard at least. I guess it's supposed to be.

Strange noises and a distant ruffle of black feathers. We took pictures of some strange birds doing some strange courting ceremony. 

Then we walked across the city during the sunset, beautiful clouds over the city. I showered and a thousand different smells washed off my body and down the drain. Pine and dust and more.

Then I slept, unwillingly.