Here, Eat This! The Adventures of Kiki Maraschino

Olive Garden has nothing on these people. I was wandering around looking for a place for lunch and saw a Mexican restaurant. Whaaat? But I saw camarones al mojo de ajo and that sounded so good. So did a margarita, but what was I thinking, of course I can’t have a margarita.

The decor would interest my friend Linda.

Teaching them to make iced tea. One. restaurant. at. a. time. Someday they will write songs about me.

The mojo de ajo was an appetizer, Look at that. Alfalfa sprouts! It was OK, the shrimp here are awesome, but it was not al mojo de ajo.

So, I gave in to my surroundings and ordered the famous local fish soup (fiskesuppe). In a Mexican restaurant. It was HUGE. I gestured to the server that she had to help me eat it and she laughed. The broth was thinner than clam chowder, seasoned with dill. It was crammed full of both bay shrimp and jumbo shrimp, plus a little salmon and probably cod. I started eating it.

I kept eating and eating but there was never less soup. I asked if it was supposed to be split between four people, again making her laugh. It became like a curse. Would this bowl ever end?

Could I ever stop eating it??? Would I be eating this fish soup for the rest of my life???

After a half an hour I gave up and the bowl was at the same exact level of fullness. I asked her if they had cats and to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

Somewhere in a parallel universe I am still eating that soup.

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OK, so I had to move hotels due to the complicated juggling we had to do in the wake of my hospitalization. I came to the Magic Hotel (K..K something…Magic Hotel Kierkegaard? Kunterhurst?) to drop my bags and they said they had my room ready. Already. At 1230 they had my room ready! So I went up the elevator and walked into a maze. The hallways are zig zags and some doors are actual MIRRORS so it looks like a hall…but it’s noooot!

One elevator is busted, so you have to search for the other one. When I came out of the elevator once, a man ran into it with a mad, crazed look in his eyes like he had been lost for hours.

The secret is that the guest floors are each a circle made of zig zags. So, if you just keep walking eventually you will end up where you want to be. That last sentence sounded very Alice in Wonderland. I’m picking up the vibes.

My room’s vibes are Cafe Flesh and the Red Room from Twin Peaks. Maybe a little New Wave. The carpet’s optical illusion works really well in this first shot. I’m glad I didn’t bring Space Bars.

My windows open into the courtyard, so not a lot of privacy, and I never know if I’m raining (although the answer here is usually YES. They don’t even mention it, like if it rained like this in LA it’s all we would talk about). BUT I can watch the kitchen!!!

I could wash a baby in this sink. Yeah, sink, not tub.

So far it is quiet, good wifi signal and the bed is comfy. That is all.

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View from hospital window, watching the rain

The whole time we were in Oslo I had a bit of a sinus thing I attributed to the new plants and spores of a new country. But I was also unusually tired, having weird nightmares, falling out of bed and being even more confused than usual, like leaving my purse in a taxi and spending all day retracing my steps to find my lost pills that were in my backpack all along.

Bob and his mom went to Latvia and I planned to do Bergen and Kristiansand, with awesome activities and trippy restaurants. This is where I was going to go.

Under

and stay here

Lindesnes Havhotell

But it was not to be. After my first day doing art museums in Bergen, I noticed I get tired so fast “these days” I thought maybe I’m getting too old to travel.

Well, I woke up in the night sick as a dog. It’s a good thing I missed that ferry to an isolated island. I managed to get the hospital on the phone in the morning and the advice nurse said, “Take a paracetemol” and left me on my own. So I went to their version of Urgent Care.

The doctor walked in and confirmed, “You’re Elise, and you’re a Taurus?” I thought, what, we are doing astrology now? Then I realized she had said tourist.

They didn’t like my “vitals” so they sent me to the hospital ER and I was delirious from fever. It’s all a haze of people sticking me with so many needles, trying to get blood from my impossible veins and asking me confusing questions. They could never hit a vein. The nurse who finally succeeded in getting blood from me softly sang to herself, “Ok, I got it, here comes the blood…” I loved that she had a blood song.

At the ER I was in a daze, hallucinating. I thought my brother Greg was in the room, and since he had died of pneumonia, I thought I was taking his place in a Twilight Zone kind of way. I also thought I was cursed for having tried whale.

This was on the wall, and I knew it wasn’t the phases of the moon. I asked, “Are those the phases of the winter sun or something?”

The nurse replied, “That is the air vent.” So yeah, phases of the sun? I was delirious.

I also threw up and needed clean clothes. But their hospital clothes are pajamas, none of these robes with your ass hanging out. They were very cozy.

They admitted me for pneumonia. I had lung x rays and they were clear, so they downgraded it to bronchitis. They were obsessed with my high heart rate, low blood pressure and something about my oxygen. My blood tests showed an infection. The health care here in Norway is better, in that they see you immediately in the waiting room, and none of the nurses or doctors are harried or overworked. They have time to chat with you.

The food is very simple but delicious, like this butternut squash/carrot soup with little pieces of fresh ginger. Most meals were two slices of bread, a slice of cheese and a slice of an unfamiliar lunchmeat. They were pleased when I asked for brown cheese. I was in the hospital overnight, and they wanted to keep me one more night to be sure I was OK, but I really wanted out of there. I had already paid for a nonrefundable hotel room for the night. And they kept checking my blood with fingersticks and sticking me with needles and could never hit a vein, so I wanted out.

I sometimes wished I had stayed in the hospital so someone would be bringing me cold water all night. I am slowly getting better, my voice is still a croak, but I’m coughing less. I feel like I just need 24 hours of sleep and I’ll be OK. There was a nice green area outside my window.

So, I lost out on a lot of prepaid hotels and things in Kristiansand, since we all decided it was best if I just stay in Bergen for the last 3 days of the trip and recuperate. So, with Bergen hotels, I am basically paying for that week of vacation twice. “I will never recover from this financially” from Tiger King comes into my head.

Bergen is beautiful and although I am stuck in a hotel room there are way worse places to be. Zander K is an amazing hotel, seriously the quietest place I’ve ever been, and the staff is bending over backwards to cater to me. They even moved my nonrefundable/nonchangeable reservation after they heard my situation. I can’t recommend it enough. It is a bit pricier than others, but if you can afford it, stay here. I also discovered room service is not a thing in Norway. I might not have left the hospital if I knew that. But they made exceptions for me.

I had this nice tagliatelle and a confusing deconstructed dessert. Deconstructed desserts are HUGE here right now.

I guess this beam got in the way of the curtains. They cut the curtains around it.

TL/DR: I’m slowly getting better and will never make nonrefundable reservations again.

And the good news is I am not getting old and tired. I was just sick, and I will get my energy back again.

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OK so I arrived in Bergen and checked in at Hotel Oleana. Like many buildings that have added bathrooms, this one was weird.

I had an amazing, tender steak from room service, but they had really heavy clay plates so when I tried to lift the salad, it flipped and broke on the floor.

They made me clean it up myself and charged me for the broken plate, so I’m kind of salty, but otherwise it’s an excellent hotel and the breakfast buffet was astounding. Seriously, Europe.

And they had amaaazing chandeliers

I had a boat scheduled to take me to Rosendal where I would have dinner at the weird and exotic IRIS is the middle of a fjord then spend the night in a little local hotel. Iris is one of the restaurants the movie The Menu was referencing. they pick you up in a boat and show you where they catch and grow the food, then they take you to this big floating eye in the middle of a fjord. It’s like an 8-hour experience.

Iris – Expedition Dining

I arrived at the ramp on time, but the boat had left maybe 7 minutes early. Bye, boat!

So my hotel room was in Rosendal and Bergen hotels were booked up. So I had nowhere to sleep. I called Bob and they were able to find me a place. So I spent the day wandering, checking out the cool buildings. I was kind of relieved I missed the restaurant when I found out it is owned by a salmon farming company and there are a lot of problems with the farms, both with the health of the fish and pollution. Also, this interesting-looking dish was made with insect powder.

LOTS of insect powder

THE MENU | Official Trailer | Searchlight Pictures

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I have loved Edvard Munch since I randomly bought a book of his art in my early 20s because I liked the cover. I’m not a big fan of The Scream. Like Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman” it seems like the greats are often known by their worst works. I was really excited about seeing Vampire. Here is the woodcut, showing it in reverse.

The Vampire print

On the top floor, the first room concentrated on his woodcuts. They even had a table where you could color on drawings carved into the table, making your own. This print, after which the exhibit is named, does not have a single print made by Munch.

But I was in a hurry to see the paintings. The next room was an artistic rendering of Munch’s home. It was really cool and I stayed a while in spite of the paintings calling my name. I even posed in the bathtub. I’m in Munch’s bath!!!!

Although the set-up was a re-creation, they did have some of Munch’s original possessions behind glass. His palette!

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We are fans of nose to tail dining. Den Glade Gris was just a block from our hotel, and specialized in slow-cooked Grilled pork knuckle (at least 5 hours on the grill), with house mashed potatoes, rustic vegetables and mustard sauce. We really liked the trotters at Au Pied du Cochon in Paris, so this is the one place in Oslo where I made a reservation.

It was pretty casual, so I thought we might not have had to make a reservation, but as we left, there was a line down the block. My only hesitation with the place was that their 3-course Prix Fixe menu started with

Smoked whale from the Norwegian Sea, served with red onion, ruccola and lingonberry sour cream.

I do my research, and I had studied up on Norwegian food before the trip. Norway is one of three countries, along with Iceland and Japan, that continues whaling. Whale hunting has been a part of Norwegian culture for centuries, and the minke whale is so populous that it is the one they fish (harpoon? ). It’s a small whale and not endangered, so it was kind of a dilemma, don’t judge people’s traditions, a little bit of curiosity as a foodie, and my years as an animal rights activist hanging out with members of Sea Shephard. My morality won out and I made the decision not to try it.

I ordered the pork knuckle, and Bob’s mom ordered the pork steak. They asked, “The chefs?” and we all looked at each other confused, and said, “sure.”

They brought a single plate to the table and put it in front of Bob’s mom. Since Bob and I didn’t get plates, I realized in horror, “Oh no! We ordered the whale!”

Bob’s mom nonchalantly popped a piece in her mouth, and my jaw hit the floor. But she had lived in a refugee camp for several years as a child and was probably grateful for whatever food she gets. Then Bob reached over and ate a piece. Who is this man? What is happening? I asked, “What does it taste like?”

And they said, “Smoked leather.”

Having grown up with brothers, it is hard for me to resist even the subtlest peer pressure, or dares that involve me proving that I am tough. So when Bob’s mom put a bit on a cracker for me, I did take a little nibble. Smoked leather with a liver-y aftertaste. I immediately ordered a beer because it was needed by both my palate and my conscience.

The pork knuckle was tender and flavorful, well worth coming back for. I tried some of the neck steak and it was nice, like pork loin. I don’t remember if Bob ordered the neck, or anything at all, because I was kind of freaking out about whale the whole time.

Bob’s mom’s third course was ice cream with candied bacon. I don’t think I even tried it. I had had enough adventure.

Our very friendly and exuberant hosts

Suicide food

When I got back, I told this story to my neighbors. The husband asked what kind of whale it was.

“Minke”

Wife: Ohhhh aren’t those the cute little ones that look like dolphins?

Me: Crawled into a hole and died.

I later told my brother “They made me eat whale.”

He asked, “Did you blubber?”

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Today I was trying to get a cruise on this sailing ship

But I ended up on one of these. I think the fancy sailing ships are only for sunset wine cruises. Well, make the best of it. There were nice shaded areas to sit. We passed by my mecca – The Munch Museum!

And the opera building

…and a UFO apparently.

The Oslo Fjord was pretty much just a big harbor, but it’s always nice to be out on the water on a sunny day.“She Lies is a public sculpture by Monica Bonvicini made of stainless steel and glass panels, measuring approximately 12 metres (39 ft) by 17 metres (56 ft) by 16 metres (52 ft), next to the Oslo Opera House in Norway.” wiki

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What a crazy few days of jetlag. We arrived around 5pm yesterday and I was knocked out. I had taken a back pain pill to sleep on the plane. Bob’s mom arrived around midnight and they went and hung out. Our single beds have these plush fake down beds on top of the bed, and they slid around. Think nylon sleeping bags on stairs. So I slid off the bed twice. Otherwise it’s a very nice place. I also went from 98 degree weather to 58 degree weather, which is refreshing but weird.

I have two q2uestions I ask myself when I am in a new place:

Do people look at you or smile or greet you when you pass?

Norwegians not only look at you, they openly stare at you. But it is kind of a frank, open look with no judgement, just a vague bit of curiosity. Mostly men stare at me, but their eyes never leave your face. (After 2 weeks I had only seen one other redhead, and I dye mine a bright color, so I realized that was probably the cause for all the staring).

The buffet breakfast was even more elaborate than others we have seen. And they say Americans eat too much! I love beans and eggs, plus they had my weakness…Swedish pancakes! I was not into the liverwurst or pickled fish, but Bridin was.

I LOVE beans and eggs! Maybe it’s my British heritage or maybe it’s Anne Margaret.

We need to talk about the brown cheese, or brunost, as it is more appetizingly called. It is the pride of Norway, produced on mountain farms. One would expect it to be strong and dark, but it is very mild and creamy. It is lightly caramelized, almost like dulce de leche, and it is eaten in small amounts. It was originally a way to be frugal and use up natural by-products. The cheese is made with whey, milk and cream from goats and cows. It varies by brand and farm.

Then we just slept the Jet Lag on and off. We woke up in time to have tapas at La Sangria. It was very authentically Spanish and very dusty. I realllyyyyy liked the Spanish tortilla. It’s more like a frittata full of potatoes. My old roommate taught me how to make it. The meatballs and bacala were really good. Bob liked the wings. There was also charcuterie, a decent beef stew and so. many. olives.

I got back into bed and woke up on the floor between the beds. Then I had a dream that my brother Greg’s ghost was teasing me and I ran at him, like, “I’ll get YOOUUU!!!” and I reached out the snatch himm but he dissipated into Scooby Doo smoke. And then I hurt so bad. I had violently thrown myself off the bed. It felt like someone socked me in the jaw and I hurt my shoulder and hip. We pushed the beds together to try to fix it, but I just slid down between the beds. Considering some of the horror stories you read about what is under hotel beds, I was grateful I didn’t land on a dead body. I took the slippery featherbed off and slept just fine right on the bed thing. Finally we were moved into a normal room with an awesome view.

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