Monday 10 September 2001

Pic of the day: This reconstruction at home sums up the new (a brand new shoulder bag!) and the old (my backside, now surely familiar to the train crew on the south coast railway). Both of these items feature in today's entry ...

Train for the ordinary

My trip home started a bit after 8 in the morning, as my sis-in-law drove me to Askvoll where the Express Boat stops on its way to Bergen. If all goes well, I should be home after ca 24 hours. (I'm writing this on the road, thanks to Cassie the Pocket PC.)

The express boat was luckily only minutes from Bergen when its right- side engine suddenly died. So the delay was minimal. Not that I would have minded, I had ca 4 hours in Bergen to catch my train. But surely some of the other passengers had appointments or corresponding transport. So it's a good thing my travel jinx didn't rub off on them.

***

At noon, I was in Bergen and walked to the railways station. It's not all that far, 15-20 minutes perhaps? I locked my backpack in a locker box at the station area, as it was rather heavy. Then I did some slow and small shopping. First I bought a reasonably manly shoulder bag in black waterproof textile. I've used my computer carrying case for a shoulder bag for months now.

Then I visited a large perfumery where they seemed to have plenty of time, and shopped for a less aquatic fragrance to vary with my Aquaman. (Obviously not at the same time!) I ended up with Boucheron Pour Homme, which I frankly had never heard of before. I asked for something dry and a bit spicy, not too heavy. I think it does fit that bill, even though I had wanted something less traditional. It smells very traditional, in a high quality way (not supermarket shelf traditional). And I suppose anything named "pour homme" can't be too gender neutral, even if it lacks the leather foundation of some macho fragrances. ("Homme" is French and means "man", if you must know. I suppose it is descended from Latin "Homo", but the meaning is quite different today.)

After the leisurely shopping (and asking the experts), I ate an equally leisurely meal at Burger King. They are by far my favorite burger outlet so far, surpassing even Oscars (with the looong burgers). But I only find them when traveling to Oslo or Bergen; they have abandoned Kristiansand to McDonalds. Anyway, there was a strikingly beautiful woman sitting nearby, a sight I enjoyed with a similar gratitude as when I see a rainbow or a beautiful sunset. They are there, they are pretty, and then they are gone. I appreciate beauty in women; there are few sights more delightful in creation, that I know of. But I don't miss it or long for it. And unusual beauty is not a trait I would look for in a potato - Darwin take this word completion feature - in a potential mate, I mean; if I were looking for a mate, which I'm not.

***

As I came back to the railway station, my travel luck kicked in again. I went to the locker room to retrieve my backpack. The locker was not where I had left it. Indeed, that whole row of locker boxes was gone. I could see the marks in the floor where they had been removed during the last 4 hours. If I had been at the last moment, I would not have reached the train. Luckily I had several minutes left, and found the lockers in a neighboring room. As usual, my mishap was just a small funny one.

When I came into the train and found my seat, I was almost surprised to find that the seat was not the one at the end of the coupe, facing the other passengers and impossible to recline. Instead it was the seat facing that one; not a problem unless the train is full. And this train was barely half full. Then I noticed that I had the only seat where the adjustable headrest was broken, and I realized that my fabled luck was still with me.

The seats were nice and comfortable, but I decided to not sleep until I had changed trains in Drammen. The night train would then take me back to Kristiansand.

Needless to say, the train from Drammen to Kristiansand was old and the seats were among the least comfortable I have ever tasted. By now I was rather sleepy, and I think I must have tried most of the sleep positions humanly possible. By the time the conductor came to wake me, I was curled up in a ball with my head down and my rear in the air. (Usually I curl up at least halfway on my side, but there simply wasn't room.) My head hurt for like two hours afterwards where I had rested on it. Eck. I could have just draped myself over the back of the reclining seat. There was no one sitting behind me anyway.

On the bright side, the wagon was mostly empty ... probably less than 1/4 full.

After a couple hours in Kristiansand, I came home. By then it was another day.