Hurtling towards Hell (part 4b of 5)

Many of the days I spent in Norway were travel days as there were so many kilometres to cover to get up to Hammerfest but along the way we made some absolutely amazing stops. One of those stops was the Winter Olympic Bobsled track where we were offered the opportunity to hurtle down the course at speeds that caused my head to smash quite violently and unladylike against the metal cage. It was very scary but great fun. They strap special braces to your stomach and back so that the g-forces don’t do permanent damage to your spine and guts. You have to hold onto the smallest handles I have ever seen and just before they push your sled off at the start line you get an attack of the panics and want to scream “Let me out!” I am very pleased to announce though that my sledding team won third place. We were even awarded bronze medals at a mini award ceremony on the bus afterwards too. Photo - my bobsled team preparing for take off. I'm the scared one at the back.

We also stopped at Trondheim which is a beautiful and quaint little city located about midway up the side of Norway. I loved the feel of this place. It is home to only about 145,000 people and it certainly makes a difference to the 7.4 million people I fight with every day to get a seat on the tube in London. Most of the Trondheim townspeople are actually students studying at the local university. It was slightly chilly and I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like in the middle of winter as snow would cover the city like a big, fat, fluffy doona. I bet that they celebrate Christmas in style there! I could just see them hanging fairy lights and decorations through the trees and the snow lining the pavement.

Another stop was at the Geiranger Fjord which is an amazing valley and river system nestled in the crevasses of mountains. We took a boat cruise down the river and the scenes were simply stunning - beautiful, shimmering water at the base of monstrous mountains. Waterfalls cascaded down the rock faces, racing to meet the river like a lost child might race to its mother. Breath taking doesn’t do the fjord justice. It is a magical place where your imagination can run wild. It sounds clichéd to say that you almost expect dreams to come true there, and for one couple on our tour it did - Andrew asked Bree to marry him. Photo - Standing just above the Geiranger Fjord.

We pit stopped at Hell, a small dot on the map not that far from the Geiranger Fjord. Many people spend their faithful lives questioning the meaning life, of the existence of heaven and hell and I can safely assure you that yes, there is a place called Hell and it is in the “Middle-of-Nowhere, Norway”. What is in Hell, I can hear you asking? Well, as disappointed as I was not to meet the red horned little fellow carrying a pitchfork, he just wasn’t waiting for a train that day. The only thing in Hell is a train station, with a post box! That’s all. The station has only one platform. Trains come in, trains go out. And that’s about it. Hell was a strange experience for most, but more so for poor Ryan, who spent the night before becoming acquainted with some local ladies and reacquainted with the bottom of a few beer bottles, promptly overslept and was woken by his room mate 3 minutes before the bus was to depart. He grabbed his unpacked suitcase (I’m sure that the next hostel patron will love Ryan’s towel, undies and Aussie green and gold socks) and hauled his butt onto the coach. Sleep was all he could think about and didn’t seem to mind that the only part of Hell he saw was the flat top of the garbage bin! To add insult to his already fragile head, we decided that for his own safety Ryan needed to be tied into his coach seat. He was swaying dangerously from side to side in his slumber and as his seat with directly opposite the back door, we could see him tumbling out of his seat and down the back stairs at any moment. Imagine his surprise however, when he woke up at lunchtime and couldn’t get himself out of his seat. Photos above - The train station in Hell. Photo below - Ryan having a kip on a skip in Hell.

Oslo and the Viking games that will never be (part 4a of 5)

Norway is without any doubt, the most expensive country on the face of this planet. I knew that I would be financially hard up for this leg of my journey because Norway has notoriously high taxes but I was not prepared for the reality of paying the equivalent of $AU7.00 for a 300ml bottle of Coke! Plus as I was spending a great big chunk of tour time in Norway being frugal was the only way I was going to survive. Photo - Wellsey in the cook tent next to the girl's cabin.

We spent all of Saturday driving and arrived at our campsite in Oslo, Norway around dinner time. After Team Tent got to work putting the cook tent up and Canadian Dave purchased a wheelbarrow of dry wood, we settled down for the evening in front of the fire with some soup and pork chops for dinner. Andy, our tour manager, had been organising us into Viking Clans for a special Viking Games Tournament he had been talking about since Copenhagen. He even managed to locate a bag of goodies - helmets with horns, swords, axes and the odd looking blonde plaited wig. Sarah, a high school drama teacher, was in absolute heaven and declared that she would remain in Viking character for the evening. Unfortunately for the Viking Games, there was a dog show also scheduled at the same campsite that we were staying at, and the grounds were already full of dogs, their trainers and the officials. So the games were postponed...

That’s okay though, we found ways to entertain ourselves, usually at the bottom of a bottle. It was certainly amusing to watch people declaring themselves camp fire experts and then set about building only a flicker of flame. Kept you entertained for hours! Especially when Andy decided the best way to break a log in half was to get Canadian Dave to grab the other end and then they both ran at a tree trunk to smash their log against it so that it would snap in two. Probably could have worked, except that they had mistaken a metal flag pole for their “tree trunk” and only discovered their drunken mistake when the flag pole made a huge “ding” sound when the log collided with it and they left a massive black mark and dent in the base of it. Don’t think the caretaker and his wife were too impressed! Photo - Vikki and Barbara sitting next to the fire at our Oslo campsite wearing their viking helmets.

The next morning we got our first real glimpse of Oslo city. Unlike the sea side feel of Stockholm and the random nature of Copenhagen, Oslo actually feels like a city with structure, age and romantic tendencies. A prime example of this is the royal palace, where Yes, I did see another changing of the guard ceremony. The palace in Stockholm is right on the water, accessible by sea and land. It is surrounded by the city and can easily be mistaken for just another museum. The palace in Copenhagen is located on the fringe of the city centre, surrounded by the infrastructure of the economy and the embassies of its neighbours. Both palaces in Denmark and Sweden are functional, hiding their opulence and grandeur behind large and imposing stone buildings. The palace in Oslo is situated in a slight incline, nestled in what Jane Austen’s Catherine de Berg (Pride and Prejudice) would call “a pretty-ish kind of woods”, looking down the main street of the city. It gives you the impression of implied wealth rather than flaunting it in your face. The changing the guard ceremony feels the same way too. Instead of the grandeur we saw in Stockholm, it was rather simple, straight forward and classic.

I’m not a fan of galleries and museums but I am glad that didn’t pass up with opportunity to see “The Scream” at the National Gallery. There were lots of other artworks in there but really, art is art to me and nothing jumped out and grabbed me as fabulous. I’d much rather go and see the beautiful stained glass windows of cathedrals or the sparkling jewels in the treasury vaults.

The end of my day in Oslo was spent at the Kon-tiki Museum, which wasn’t a really a museum, more like a journey of discovery. It was all about Thor Heyerdahl and his expeditions as he tried to prove that the Egyptians could have sailed across the oceans to South Amercia to begin colonisation there. He did this by attempting to sail the same route in a papyrus boat, just as the ancient Egyptians would have. Heyerdahl also used the opportunity to do a social experiment and crewed the boat with people from different continents, backgrounds and races. He wanted to see if people with nothing in common could live and work harmoniously together. It took him three tries to cross the Atlantic Ocean but eventually he succeeded. Thor Heyerdahl also researched primitive colonies. He even took his new wife on her honeymoon to live for a year on a semi-deserted island with a tribe of pygmy people. They eventually had to leave because the tribe had discovered a substance like alcohol and were becoming violent whilst under the influence! Reading about his journeys is very inspiring and makes you think about what you plan to contribute to the world.

Stunning Sweden (part 3 of 5)

Arriving in Stockholm we went to the Nobel Prize Hall and Swedish Parliamentary Building. With all the hoopla that surrounds the Nobel Prizes, especially the peace prize, you would think that the official hall would have been magnificent and grand but in reality it is a brown brick building that has creaky floors when you walk down the corridors. The official room where they present the prize isn't even a room! It's a boring looking courtyard that they had to pop a roof on (there wasn't one in the original design of the building) because the snow build up in winter was too much to bear! The parliament rooms are old and maroon. Everything is in a shade of maroon. The tour was rather boring (I guess it is the word I would use to sum up the Nobel Prize Hall experience really) but I did enjoy learning about how the rafters and beams in the ceiling of main parliament room were exposed to represent the underside of a viking boat, where the first parliament meetings of Sweden actually took place.

There is also a Golden Room which is a reception room made up completely of small gold tiles. I am not sure what the designer was smoking when he came up with idea but even the Nobel Hall tour guide said that the Swedish people were ashamed of it and thought that it was an eye saw. Eventually the room gives you a headache and you are very glad to walk out of it to be faced with the mundane brown brick.

Most people travel overseas to see museums, art galleries, monuments. I travelled Scandinavia to see changing of the guard ceremonies! Not really, but it sure felt like it as I ended up seeing one at every royal palace I went to. None matched the pomp and circumstance of the Swedish Royal Changing of the Guard ceremony. And I include the English one in that group too. We were told that the ceremony would take about 40 minutes and is a lavish affair with horses and a band. True with the lavish affair and band bit, not so true with the 40 minutes part. I think it actually was closer to an hour and a half in the end. The ceremony itself is a awesome spectacle with horses, mounted guards, guards in training (all complete with Steve Urkell glasses - must have the same dodgy army optician) and canons. Unfortunately it bucketed down half way through the ceremony and the guards must have been extremely uncomfortable in their blue and white woollen uniforms. The horses didn't seem to mind though. I can't believe that the band were playing their instruments on the back on those horses in the pouring rain. Very skillful.

As grand and impressive as the changing of the guard ceremony was, it was actually more entertaining to watch the poor guard stationed in front of us who was in charge of keeping the crowd out of the way so that the horses could come through. He was tall, buff, had a rifle and a bayonet and still, he didn't stand a chance against a bus load of middle age Mediterranean women who were determined to get closer to the action. Even if that meant standing in the no standing zone when a platoon of cavalry were streaming toward them. The guard tried his hardest but he just couldn't fight them all off. They were coming at him from all directions. He had to call for back up 5 times. They were ruthless! When the back up arrived, they all lined up, removed their bayonets and then used their guns to push people back out of the square. They were yelling at people in a manner that, had I not have been standing behind the barrier, would have made me pee my pants. Very scary, but not scary enough to move the Mediterranean "mafia".

My favourite moment was actually a quintessential Aussie moment. Sarah and I were standing with a bunch of the guys off our tour. We had a good position right at the front of the barriers. We were all set to watch the action but a problem soon became apparent when the guard tried to get the Mediterranean masses to move on - they just stepped to the side in front of us. Which was still in the way of the guard, who by this stage has resorted to repeating his "No. You can't stand there. Move on!" speech in all 4 of the languages that he was no doubt fluent in. Still, they did not move. So, in the Australian spirit of lending a hand Dezzie, Mark and Mick lent over us, tapped the offending males in the group on the shoulders and told them to move. When they still didn't budge, a resounding (and loud) "Listen here mate, F*** O**" and a thumb in the desired direction was quickly issued. Now, I didn't see the face that went with the command, but Mick is a pretty big guy (6ft 4 at least - he's the guy in the red shirt kneeling down in the photo at the end of my last post) and not a skinny mini. I tell you, I have not see people move that fast before, ever! And I've seen people running from burning buildings!

We had a Contiki dinner that night which comprised of traditional Swedish food. Can't really recall what each of the pieces of food were that was on my plate, but I can tell you that it all was delicious. I got to talk to Wellsey, our camp cook, and Lee, our driver, which was really good. Last time I didn't get much of a chance to talk to our Contiki driver and tour manager. But maybe that was because I was too shy or I wasn't 18 and blonde! :)

As is the deal with budget Contiki adventures, everyone has to pitch in. At the beginning of the trip you are asked to put your name down next to a job that will be your responsibility for the tour. I had already been a cookie and a dishie (cook helper and dish washer) on my last trip so I put my name down next to the job listed simply as "tent" and thought nothing of it as I passed the clipboard behind me to the next person. Ha! "Tent" was actually putting up and pulling down the marquee style cook tent at each of our stops. It was also the most difficult job to have and as it turns out, the only job that no other female put her hand up for! So, for the entire tour I spent my job time working at 'erecting' and 'making flaccid' (the boys words, obviously not mine) that tent on "Team Tent" with 6 guys. And it was the most laughs I have had in a very long time. Can't tell you how chuffed I was when 10 days into the tour and 10 days into putting up and pulling down that white marquee Mick turns to Mark and says "Hey, there's a chick on Team Tent!". Yep, we had one hell of a switched on team!

Next stop, Oslo and then straight to Hell. No joke, I actually went to Hell which is conveniently masquerading as a town in Norway.

Scandinavian Traveller (part 2 of 5)

After my marathon 4 hour interview I caught the bus home with just enough time to pick up my bag, forget my travel insurance information and my Euros, and head to the airport. Within two hours I found myself sitting in Terminal 3 of Heathrow airport about to board a plane to Copenhagen to embark on my second Contiki trip. I wish I could say that I was eager and excited to be going, but in truth I was so scared. Spending 3 weeks travelling around in a bus with 40 unknown people is a daunting experience. I was really lucky last time I went on a Contiki trip because I made 7 wonderful friends (huge hello to Mel, Craig, Sarah, Dave, Lulu, Jess and Jezza) that I still keep in contact with. What if this time I wasn't so lucky? I needn't have worried. The Scandi crew were great and I loved every minute of it.

My first impression of Copenhagen was....dark. That might have something to do with the fact that my plane was late and I didn't get the the Contiki compound until midnight. My poor tour manager Andy had to wait up for me. Got to my room and met Bree, Jess and Nicole. Nicole (21) was from Melbourne and travelling for the first time. Bree and Jess were from Dee Why (15 mins up the road from Mum's place in Sydney). Mad how you travel to Copenhagen to meet people who shop at Warringah Mall too! :) Bree and Jess were 19 and I felt so old compared to them. Maybe not old exactly, more like world weary. They hadn't seen anything yet and were so eager. Also so over each other's company too. They whinged a lot that first night!

I had missed the first day of the tour due to my interviews so at breakie the next morning I made sure to sit next to random people so I could get to know some other people on the tour. I ended up sitting next to Vikki (32, nanny) who lives in Chiswick too. Again with the small world! Also met Sarah (pronounced Sara, 23, Brisbane), Annie (21, English, PhD student), Barbara (18, Italian, High school kid) and Michael (31, lawyer, Brisbane). This was fabulous because I found some friends to spend the day touring Copenhagen with.

After our quick coach tour of the city sights I opted out of visiting the Carlsberg brewery (seen one seen them all really) and instead decided to go to the Rosenberg Castle and gardens on Vic the man's recommendation. This is where they keep the royal jewels. Vic had said that she had seen them when she visited Copenhagen with her parents and that I would like them too. Always a sucker for sparkling things I was keen to see the ruby and diamond necklace and tiara set that Mary wears all the time. Unfortunately they were not in the vault (she must have been out there wearing them somewhere) but I did get to see Queen Margarethe's spectacular emerald version and some absolutely beautiful pearl and diamond necklace and earring sets. The ceremonial crowns were also on display. The king's crown was strange to look at because the gems were so big they looked fake. I reckon I could have swapped them with something I had brought in from a costume jewellery shop and they'd be none the wiser.

After viewing of the dark and depressing rooms of Rosenberg Castle we walked through the castle gardens and sat for half an hour people watching. Everyone was blonde! And riding a bike. But mostly I noticed how blonde everyone was. It was strange to see.

Then we wandered up to Amalienborg Palace which is the Royal Family's official residence although I am told that Mary, Fred and the kids live outside of town. I had hoped to go inside and see the State rooms but unfortunately they were only open on the weekends (and it was Wednesday) so instead I went in and saw an exhibition on Queen Ingrid (Fredrik's grandmother). There was a whole section on her style and they had on display a selection of her evening gowns from when she became Queen right up until her death. Some of the earlier ones were amazing and I loved the black tulle ball gown with slightly gathered capped sleeves. So subtle and elegant. It was really fascinating to she how much she had shrunk over her lifetime. The mannequins kept getting smaller and smaller.

At the top of the main staircase was picture of Mary and Fredrik's wedding day with all the European royals in the background. We had a competition to see who could name the most royals and I am happy/sad to report that I won!

I got busted by a guard yelling at me in Danish for sitting down on the palace steps and tying my shoelace. Apparently this is a national disaster so if you go to the palace and have a shoelace blowout, wait until you have left the compound before tying it back up again. I call it a compound because there are four palace buildings built in a circle fashion around a statue of a previous king in the middle. There are four roads in and four roads out. All of the palace buildings face into the centre and it gives you the impression of being enclosed, or wrapped around. I kept thinking I was being held in the middle of cupped hands. You can tell which is the current monarch's residence because there is a glittering necklace type ornament on top of one of the palace buildings, just underneath the flagpole. Apparently when Fredrik becomes king they will move the ornament over to his and Mary's residence.

When you read articles in Woman's Day and New Idea about Denmark they always show a picture of the Inner Harbour with it's colourful buildings and boats moored alongside them. I thought that all of Copenhagen was like this but no, it is just the Inner Harbour which would only be about 500m long if that. It was a little disappointing because those coloured buildings are so charming and the rest of the port areas are rather dull in comparison. We took a boat cruise around the harbour areas and saw Christiannia, a hippie commune that is located in old Army barracks. We were told that the hippies denounced the Queen and her laws and live there free of laws, taxes and apparently health care.

My evening in Copenhagen was spent in Tivoli Gardens which is a large amusement park. What separates in from normal amusement parks is that it has been built into the original garden area so you walk through canopies of trees and around ponds and water features. It is a very beautiful place and Vikki could be heard screaming from atop of the ride she chose. It was a mega version of the swinging chairs. It went up so high and then as you were swinging around it dropped you fast and then rose you back up again.

By this stage I had met a lot more people on the tour and was pleased to see that there was a large group of older people (by older I mean 25-35). Plus it felt easier this time around introducing myself and making friends. I had a good feeling about the tour and was eager to get on the road the following morning to Sweden.

Filling in the blanks... (part 1 of 5)

You'll have to bear with me as I try and recollect all my thoughts, experiences and memories from my Scandi trip. Man, there is so much I want to type. So many places I visited and people I met that I want to tell you about I am struggling to find a place to start. So I will start at the beginning and to understand the beginning you need to understand my state of mind. And to understand that, you need to know the bigger picture ... This photo is of Kay (my teaching assistant) and me at Book Week. The teacher's theme was Dalmatians. I had an advantage of living with the world's most Dalmatian obsessed person, so it was easy for me. There is a jacket that goes with my outfit too.

I ended my English 2006/07 school year on a bittersweet note. The sweet part - I had a fabulous time teaching the Year 1 class and learnt heaps about the curriculum and planning process which was the main professional reason for me moving to England. The staff at the school were lovely and I am really pleased to say that I will keep in contact with quite a few of them, especially Shannon, Karen, Mary and Kay. My kids were beautiful souls who, whilst they will never match my awesome St Martin's kiddies, brought me many laughs and smiles (and a strange trip to Birdworld). The bitter part - When I went for my initial interview with the headteacher he said that I should treat the term's supply work as a trial for a full time temp job in the 2007/08 academic year as they would have two vacancies. He said that if I could meet the goals he set then there would be no reason why I wouldn't be asked back next year. So I started work, redid all the things that he said were a problem with my planning and programming and tried to make sure that I was on top of all of the special classroom requirements he set for me. A good example of what it was like is that I was reprimanded for having too many bibles on the prayer table at one point. At this time I begun to suspect that something wasn't right. However, with the support of Shannon and Kay we kept going. I got in my weekly program review saying thanks for trying really hard and he appreciated me going the extra mile so to speak. Then at about 3 weeks before school ended, just after I had written all of the reports, I noticed some young women sitting in the foyer of the school looking spiffy in their best duds. Didn't think much of it until I was called into the H/T's office and told that there was no longer a position available for me for 2007/08 even though I had fulfilled all of the requirements he had set for me because he wanted to "restructure" his teaching team to include an early years teacher. My reply was that I understood but that I would like the opportunity to apply because I have and Early Years major. This was met with the response "No you don't". He maintained that he didn't know even though we had discussed it in my initial interview. But I bet you've guessed who those well dressed women were by now huh? Long story short, he had already filled the position before telling me. From that point on he made teaching there an even more difficult task. My favourite point was on the last day when, in front of the whole school at mass, he stood up on the altar in church and made me be the representative of the teaching staff in the ceremony right before announcing to everyone that I had fulfilled all his set requirements and it was a shame I couldn't stay. It was an excrutiatingly embarassing moment.

I'm not always the most positive person, my new friend Sarah will attest to that (another story for another time). I believe in fairness over kindness. So I spent many days frustrated, angry, hurt and generally p***ed off. I couldn't believe that he had lied to me. I much prefer someone to be up front and honest. Tell me to my face is my motto. Looking back I was angry at myself for letting myself be fooled. The English school system and it's subsequent parts (teaching agencies, head teachers, local authorities, national curriculum council etc) has never been kind to anyone I know so why I thought this time would be different I don't know.

Anyways, when school ended I was emotional jelly. I needed a change. Which brings me to part two...

I applied for a change of pace. I applied for two jobs with the London Fire Brigade. I was over teaching and over being treated like dirt. With massive help from the magnificent Andrew Veitch and my brother, I wrote my applications for the jobs. I was really surprised to get an interview for not one, but both. To be accepted to the London Fire Brigade you need to go through a 4 step interview process. The first one is the application. That is a task and a half and involves providing a lot of evidence on what skills you have. The second is a written formal exam. The third is a presentation that you have to give to a panel on a subject of their choice (complete with PowerPoint slides) and the fourth is the actual interview itself. I like interviews. I am good at the face to face stuff but even this was daunting to me. One of my written exams was 2 hours long. In one interview I was asked 37 questions. It was a tough process. Had to laugh when I realised half way through one of the interviews that the buttons on my pants were undone! I reckon it was God telling me this wasn't for me.

During the exam of my last interview I realised that I didn't want these jobs. I wanted the jobs, but not here. I wanted it at home in Australia where I knew the government legislation and other governing bodies. Looking back I probably could have just stood up, thanked them and withdrawn my application. Ah well. When I found out I didn't get the jobs (one I was under qualified for and the other had a problem with my VISA for 2009) a huge wave of relief washed over me. I was actually happy. Would you believe it? Ha! How's that! I might not have got the jobs but I got something else - my passion and drive back.

Which brings me to Scandinavia. I picked the trip because it left the day of my interview so I could be in London for my interview and still fly out that night to Copenhagen. Strange how things make you choose a certain path. Being on that trip has changed my life. Now is that dramatic or what? :)

Since this entry is a million miles too long already I'll stop here. Tomorrow I will write about Copenhagen, complete with pictures.


The pictures in this blog (after the one of Kay and me) are of what my classroom looked like. The first three are from my first day there. Please keep in mind that this was at the beginning of the last term. For those of you who aren't in teaching, haven't seen my classroom or haven't seen other classrooms then these photos show an unusually bare classroom. The last three are of the classroom at the exhibition evening in the last week of school. Slight difference huh? I hope that this gives you a picture of what I started with and what the school ended with.

Scandinavia... update soon

So much Scandinavian travelling adventures to write about, so little time at a computer in a Finnish hotel with 12 German backpackers stragetically coughing behind you to hurry you up.

Having a fantastic time. Met and made lots of new friends.

Will write about it all when I finally reach English speaking soil again.

:)

Watering Cans

I found out something today...

A watering can holds 10 and a half pints of Snake Bites!

P.S: A Snake Bite is half beer, half Strongbow with a liberal dose of blackcurrant cordial.