To introduce myself as a writer and adventurer, I would like to share a story from my time studying abroad in Budapest and traveling around Europe. Before I arrived in Budapest, I took about three weeks visiting good friends in Norway and then Sweden. I had an amazing time, and I could not thank the Hjemdal family and my good buddy, Klas, enough for showing me around their amazing countries. I could go on and on about these amazing people, but for now, I am going to talk about what I think was my most interesting experience in Scandinavia: my weekend trip to Bergen, my first solo traveling experience.

Now, Bergen is a very scenic college town about seven hours by train from Oslo, Norway, where I was staying with the Hjemdals. As much as I loved Oslo, I still wanted to see what the rest of Norway was like, so I planned a weekend trip to Bergen. I wouldn’t really say planned – all I really did was buy the train ticket – Jørgen (papa Hjemdal) was gracious enough to lend me a tent and sleeping bag, and doing that, gave me a fall back plan, but other than that, I just thought I would find a tourist information center and map out where I’d stay and what I’d do from there. I didn’t even bother to look up a map of the town or find out where the information center even was. I’d like to think all travelers come from such humble beginnings.

Fast forward to the end of a very long but very scenic train ride. I am now in Bergen, getting off the train and exploring the town in the fading sunlight. Seems like a pleasant place, cobble stone streets and pastel townhouses that have that not-too-tall-but-not-too-short classical look to them. Then, I wander by what appears to be the tourist information office with a red “stengt” sign in the window. My heart sank, I didn’t even know what part of the city I was in, and I sure as hell didn’t know where I could find somewhere to stay since I didn’t even have a map or a basic knowledge of Bergen. After some more aimless meandering, I came to a lake in what I judged as the center of town. It was here I explored my options. Should I just try to walk straight out of town until I found somewhere to camp? Unlikely. Pay for a hotel? Fuck that. And then the beautiful harmony of drunken college students singing aloud graced my ears. I looked past the lake and saw the bar district, now with small clans of students dressed up in different costumes, parading around it. I went over to some students dressed like the cast of M.A.S.H. and made an inquiry as to what was going on. They told me this was the last Friday before classes started and much celebration was to be had. I immediately went back to the train station and threw all my possessions into the luggage lockers save my wallet, my flask and the clothes on my back; I knew where I was going to stay tonight.

The first few bars I went to where dead, but it was early in the night, so I didn’t let my spirits get to low. If I was going to sleep with a roof over my head tonight, I needed to find a lovely Norwegian girl and win her over with my dashing good looks and charming personality. I tried to avoid buying drinks since one could easily spend about $12 on a beer in Norway, but I needed some liquid confidence/blanket, so I took gratuitous pulls from my flask. By the time the bars started to pick up, my flask was already half empty. I started talking to anyone who was in a position to listen but found that the Norwegian girls were very shy and reserved. All the guys were more than happy to chat with me, and they always ended up talking shit about the rest of the Norwegians, exclaiming that all Norwegians are antisocial and that, unless they were drunk, didn’t talk to strangers. This scared me because if I couldn't find someone who was outgoing enough to talk to me, then I would never be able to find a place to stay, but then I saw her. A beautiful Norwegian girl standing alone at the bar, doing that awkward look-at-your-phone-then-around-the-bar-then-at-your-phone routine most young people fall into when they’re by themselves in a crowded place. I approached her, and we made some small talk, but Norwegian bars have a habit of playing the music loud enough to drown out conversation but not loud enough to get people dancing (I don’t think Norwegians would dance regardless), and this made the awkward small talk even more awkward. She seemed like she was going to be another socially awkward Norwegian, and I thought it was going to be another dead end, but then she said those magic words, “Would you like to meet my friends?” Hell yeah, I would like to meet your friends. I couldn’t think of anything I’d like to do more. She took me to a side table, and I sat down and quickly became the center of attention. Using some well-crafted Norwegian pick-up lines Martin (oldest of the Hjemdal offspring) had given me, I quickly broke the ice. From then on, I stayed with these ladies going from bar to Kebab shop to bar, never paying for things on the way because they were nice enough to buy me beer until I couldn’t see straight anymore. The night seemed to be drawing to a close, and one of the ladies asked me where I’m staying, and I told her at the moment, I didn’t know. They all jumped at the prospect of hosting a lowly traveler and immediately offered me a spot at their places. I took the first option I got and went home with two of these very kind ladies but opted to sleep on the couch since I still didn’t know where I would stay tomorrow night, and I didn’t want to spoil my chances here.

The next day I woke up to a random guy cooking eggs in the kitchen that was attached to the living room. Apparently, he was the other roommate's boyfriend or something, and I thanked the lord he didn’t freak out to some random guy sleeping on his couch. He offered me some eggs, and then gave me a ride into town, even gave me sushi (he worked at the fish market) and directions to the mountain I wanted to hike. Nice guy. So, I think I am going to just do an easy hike up one of the low mountains that surrounds Bergen, but I try testing my limits (as usual) and end up doing an amazing 12-mile hike that summits two mountains and winds around various mountain lakes. When I get to the end of the hike, I run into no other but the original, beautiful, shy Norwegian girl. She was just as beautiful (and shy) as ever, and I was still in the exact same clothes I had on last night, so we just said hello and went on our separate ways. That night, I was exhausted from all the events of the day and the night before, so I decided to find a place to camp. I took the tram and then a cab a campsite (more like an empty lot behind a motel) that seemed to be only a few miles out of town and settled down for the night.

I was up and ready to go by noon, but my train didn’t leave until 4, and since it was a nice day, I decided to walk back into Bergen to kill the time. It started pouring about 1:45. I was lost by 2. I started freaking out about 2:45 since I had no idea where I was and my departure deadline was coming up. By 3, I had gained my bearings but realized I was still aways out of town. So, I started running, with nothing to eat since last afternoon and a 40-pound pack on my back. I ran when I could and power-walked to recover. I was exhausted, but I could not miss this train. By 3:30, I reached the outskirts of the town, but it was obvious I would not make it there in time by running. Then, I stumbled upon the tram tracks, and I took a tram that must have been sent from heaven to the town center. From there, I ran the remaining kilometer to the train station and made it on my train at 3:52. I bought as much as I could from the dining car and passed out, exhausted, until I got to my stop in Ustaoset where I met Jørgen.