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scandinaviacroatiaengbergs · 5 years

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Sunday: Oslo to Gothenburg (Bye-Bye to our Car, for Now!) and on to Copenhagen

There are a few things I wanted to note, just in general, but I’ve been forgetting to do so. One: there are wind turbines all over the countryside in Norway and Sweden. Two: the recycling program in Norway is very ahead-of-our-time (or the U.S.’s time, and I know to roll out such programs on a nationwide scale is easier to do in a smaller country than a larger one) and everyone recycles and composts and the robot-directed sorting of bags of garbage is a sight to see (I saw it in a video that Ryley showed me). Three: there are sooooooo many Teslas in Norway. It is an actual fact that there are more Teslas per capita in Norway than in any other country (per my source: Eric Engberg). Now, you’d think that this must just mean the people are super stoked to protect the environment and have loads of money to spend on buying expensive electric cars, and that is partially true, but Ryley and Roar said that many people spend way beyond their means and the government really incentivized electric car ownership, and Tesla was a huge resulting beneficiary of that. Electric cars could drive in the bus lane for a while and there were more benefits, too, which I am forgetting. It is really crazy how many Teslas there are on the road, and aside from that, there are just a lot of new cars, with very few that would qualify as “old” in the central city. When we drove out of town, we saw more older models, but in the city, nope. I’ve also been thinking a lot about immigration in the late-19th and early-20th century to the U.S. from Scandinavia. So I will digress for a minute: I know that when countries are war-torn, it makes a lot of sense for individuals and families to leave those regions, when they can (and as we see globally today and throughout history, there are so many tragic regions in which civilians are stuck in unlivable circumstances with no respite from the wars surrounding them). I also know from my own family history that people fled, say, Ireland because of famine, or Lithuania to seek an improved life in the U.S., even before abject ethic and religious persecution made conditions unsurvivable. I need to learn more about the causes for migration out of Scandinavia during the turn of the last century. But, the lure of the “American Dream” was strong, even when a country wasn’t in a depression or there wasn’t a crop failure (though Norway had a huge potato crop failure that made many people leave, at the same time as Ireland, according to Roar), as far as I know. And we see that immigrants from the turn of the last century to the U.S. have, by and large, left improved socio-economic legacies for their descendants. But, when I travel to these areas today, and see some of the beauties of their regions, and size of cities and how these countries are able to develop social systems where there are many fewer people in poverty per capita than there are in our own U.S., I realize I need to learn more about why so many people left in the first place, and what the crises they were fleeing were, or whether they were just leaving to pursue riches in the U.S. when its doors were more open to such waves of immigrants (I mean, I wrote a book about this period, so I know very well the increasingly tight immigration laws of the late-19th to early-20th centuries and what “kinds” of people they privileged). Anyway, I thought this about my Grandpa Sam too when we were in Lithuania, since he could certainly not have predicted the genocide that would develop there thirty years after he left. He came to the U.S. alone from his family of two parents and five siblings (all but one of whom perished in the Holocaust), and seems to have traveled with a cousin. I do think about the asylum seekers who I’ve volunteered with in Albuquerque and somewhat like my uncle, they were really going into the unknown, because they hoped that gamble would make their lives better. In the case of the asylum seekers, they’re often fleeing so much death, corruption, and destruction around them, and they hope that in the U.S. they’ll have a safer home for their children and more viable earning options for themselves. So, I am sorry to go along this tangent for so long, but I really do drive through the countryside here and I wonder why so many people left in the first place – simple as that. I am sure different people left in different decades for very different reasons. Anyway, our last morning in Oslo was leisurely. We had to go out and find an ATM, though, since I had to leave about $70 for our Airbnb hosts to pay for parking, since we’d agreed upon this. To find an ATM on Sunday, though, was no easy task, so we went on a long walk to get to the nearest one, but that actually turned out very well, because we didn’t have to be out of the apartment at a particular time and we got to see some more neighborhoods that we hadn’t seen before. We even found a little park right near our place that had a high hill, and we could see quite a panorama from the top. So, around 1, we left Oslo, avoiding by the smallest margin a collision in a roundabout (the Volvo’s brakes work really well, we learned!), and then made it to Gothenburg without much trouble at all. Eric booked our Airbnb in a suburb, and by the time we got in, the kids were ragged, unruly, and wild as hyenas with their squawking and back-talking and general silliness. It was a mess. It took some stern words and some taking away of things (Rowan’s beloved Blundstone boots) to get them to know that they needed to pull it together, which they did, and we went to the Willy’s grocery store and got some dinner and got back and ate dinner, and the kids ate voluminously. After that, we tried to get the kids to bed, but that, again, was more protracted than ideal, and they weren’t asleep until nearly 10 p.m. I should mention that the navigation in this suburb called Askim was hilarious and so convoluted; it was like driving from driveway to driveway, on tiny, tiny roads that, before GPS, I have no idea how anyone could’ve given directions to anyone unfamiliar with the area. So, the kids needed one thing after the next at bedtime – a story “from your mouth” (specifically, the serial saga of the cats Pickles and Mr. Pink that I’ve been telling since last summer), a story from a book, some water, to go to the bathroom, it’s too hot, there’s too much light, I want to sleep in with Cece, I want to go downstairs, etc. etc. It was endless. But, finally, they both zonked out, and then I couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight. I hope it doesn’t seem like I am complaining about the kids or their behavior a lot, because really, they roll with all of this traveling and moving from town to town pretty well, and they seem to love the adventure, and Rowan even expresses how much he loves it, repeatedly, and how sad he’s going to be when it’s over (though he has his art camp later this summer, and he *is* excited for that). But, our kids really are the loudest kids in any given room and the goofiest, so that is fun for us sometimes, but sometimes we need a knob with which we can dial down their volume considerably. We dropped our Volvo off this morning for its journey home, and while we were there, we saw another family, with two kids ages probably 8 and 6, and they were just sitting at a table with their parents while they waited for their car to be brought out. Our kids, by contrast, were needling each other and I actually heard a scream out of Cece when I was in the bathroom right before we left. Some great things can come out of their energy and curiosity, and we’re grateful for that, but, as I noted, sometimes, a dial would be useful ;) I guess what goes around, comes around, since my mom once left my brother and I (at ages 4 and 6) with the guard at the front of some Smithsonian museum because we were being intolerable and she wanted to see the exhibit without our annoying behavior, so with the guard we sat. That was also the day I flat-out insisted on wearing pleather boots and jeans in the humid, insane D.C. summertime weather. Anyway, I guess my kids come by their low points honestly ;) Anyway, so we *did* return the Volvo for its ocean journey home! And now, I write this from a train to Copenhagen, and we’ll spend two nights there before flying to Croatia, land of my grandmother’s mother and ancestors. The kids and I know, from Grandma Marion, how to say “I love you!” in Yugoslavian (as she calls it), so we’re ready for our travels there! This train ride started a bit stressfully, a) because we have a lot of loot to get situated on board, and b) there are no seat numbers above all of the seats, so it was a total frustrating guessing game to figure out which seats are ours. But we did, and since then, the ride has been uneventful, with some beautiful ocean scenery and small towns (and some not-so-small towns) with red houses and intensely green fields. The kids have had some iPad time (Cece is doing a Montessori “hundreds board” right now and Rowan was laughing loud enough for all in our car to hear to Shawn the Sheep). They are going to be tired tonight in Copenhagen, but we might tow them around in a bike trailer, so we’ll see what develops! More soon!

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