3rd DAY (10.8.22)

2:00 PM

I awoke with the first rays of sunshine filtering through the mosquito net of my hammock. Finally, I had gotten the much-needed sleep that I had missed during my train journey. Slowly, I opened my eyes and took in the landscape around me. The morning sun reflected off the gently rippling water of the rocky lake. Above me, the branches of the pines wound around the hammock I had strung up. I sat up, unzipped the net, and stepped barefoot onto the needles covering the ground. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I put on my swimsuit and walked to the shore. The morning air was cold, but I couldn't resist the urge and jumped into the icy water. Slowly, I found a rhythm of arm movements and swam towards the nearby island where two canoeists had set up their camp for the night. I felt the rough edges of the rock wall at the shore and relaxed my body and mind. I leisurely floated back through the water to the peninsula where my hammock hung. I grabbed my towel, dried myself off, and quietly passed by the camp of the two Swedes with whom I shared the spot, heading towards my backpack.

I packed my things with a familiar routine, fastened the last buckle, and took one last look at the landscape before setting off again. I decided not to walk back to the city and instead headed to the nearest bus station. There, I couldn't buy a ticket because I should have purchased one at the train station, but the bus driver didn't seem to mind. I asked a young Swedish girl on the bus how to get back to the train station in Gothenburg. She was delighted to help me, as she herself had just completed a backpacking trip and understood the confusion with public transportation. She gave me several options and even accompanied me to the tram that would take me to my destination. There, I asked a friendly older lady how to buy a ticket. She explained that there wouldn't be enough time and advised me to just run when I see the inspectors with white hats.

Arriving at the train station, I did some last-minute shopping for my hike and set out to explore the city. I inquired with a tour agent about what was worth seeing in a short amount of time. She directed me to the historic old town of Gothenburg, which was only a 20-minute walk away. I thanked her and set off. I got a bit lost at first, but then found the described street with a banner that read 'Haga'. The buildings were all relatively small and almost resembled barns. There was a buzz of tourists and locals moving through the many shops and chatting loudly. I decided to treat myself to an ice cream on a stick and strolled through the alleys, passing pubs, souvenir shops, and antique stores. When it was time to head back to the train station, I took an electric scooter and rode back on the well-maintained bike paths.

At the train station, I bought two beers, which, according to Swedish laws, contained no more alcohol than a shandy, and waited for my friend Bene, who was due to arrive any minute. We greeted each other with grins, I handed him the beer, and we settled down once again in the nearby park by the canal. Bene was already quite exhausted from the train journey, and I bombarded him with my adventures. I accompanied the undead resident to the supermarket and filled my water bottle at a juice stand. Then it was time to board our train to Oslo, where I now sit and write.

1:00 AM

In Oslo, Bene and I temporarily went our separate ways as he wanted to quickly get to his hostel, drop off his luggage, and take a shower. I left the train station heading south and was greeted by a beautiful sight. Before me stretched the bay of Oslo, with seagulls flying in artistic maneuvers above it. Comfortably tree-covered hills, like the arms of a sleeping giant, rose from the navy blue water. I decided to sit by the shore and call my sister. She told me about the mountainous landscape of Pakistan she had just come from, and I told her about my adventures. After an hour of catching up, I got up and continued towards the city center.

I decided to continue walking along the shore and passed old military barracks, numerous docks with various ships, and a bell that could be rung by pedaling on the ground. I approached the city center and called Bene to inquire about his plans. It seemed that he had encountered some problems at the hostel, which prevented him from making it to the city. So I continued strolling until I reached the Oslo Castle, where I settled down on a meadow to organize my backpack. When I was ready to leave, I struck up a conversation with a group of Norwegians, led by a charismatic blond man who asked me about my travels. We quickly engaged in a deep conversation about societal structures and our place in the world. The group seemed fascinated by my plans, and the two guys I spoke with the most turned our conversations into improvised rap lyrics, which they performed over music playing from their speakers. I lost track of time and had to quickly break away to catch my train. I promised the group that I would visit them again on my next stay in Oslo and hurriedly made my way back to the main train station.

On the way, I passed through the bustling shopping districts of Oslo, characterized by impressive Art Nouveau buildings and flashy neon signs, until the grand train station building stretched out before me. I confidently entered the building and made my way to my platform. However, the display for my train to Lillehammer showed that it was canceled. So, I rushed to the conductor, who assured me that I would still be able to reach Lillehammer with the replacement service, but I would have to transfer a couple of times. I boarded the train and set off. There, I met two Germans with the same travel plans, whom I informed about the conductor's statements. It turned out to be an older gentleman traveling with his granddaughter, and he shared many stories about his travels in Scandinavia. A Norwegian girl seemed to have overheard my conversation with the conductor and helped me find the connection. To my horror, I realized that with the replacement service, I wouldn't make the connection to Trondheim in Lillehammer.

When we had to change trains at the next station, I inquired once again with my fellow travelers at the conductor's advice. He said that we could investigate further at the next transfer at Oslo Airport and that alternative travel options would be provided there. An older Norwegian woman advocated for us a little and vigorously stood up for our situation, and then also showed us the way to the connecting train.

Arriving at the airport, we didn't know where to go because all the information desks of the train companies were closed. So, I led our small group to the buses where the replacement service to Lillehammer was supposed to continue. A few officials from the train company were standing by the buses, and I asked them for help. They did everything in their power to assist us. However, they quickly encountered the problem that our connection to Trondheim was operated by another train company. They wanted to call us a taxi to take us to Lillehammer in time but were prevented by their superiors, as they did not feel responsible for the connection. Clearly frustrated, we asked the stressed officials about alternatives, but none of them satisfied us because it meant either continuing at our own expense with a taxi or staying overnight. Since they couldn't guarantee that they would cover the costs, we became even more desperate. We assured the on-site officials that our frustration was not directed at them, and they expressed sympathy because they were also frustrated with their company. They even assured us that they would write a report about this mishap to prevent it from happening again but couldn't help us further. Next to us, the Norwegian lady who had helped us earlier voiced her discontent and urged the officials to assist us. As a last resort, the young official advised us to continue to Lillehammer first, in the hope of encountering an official from the other train company there who might be able to help us. So we boarded the bus, drove off, and here I am now, writing.

3:00 AM

When we arrived in Lillehammer, the city was asleep. We walked to the train station, but except for a drunken cyclist who made precarious noises, it was deserted. We sat down on the ground and tried to find an active hotline but in vain. So, we searched the station for signs of life, which quickly appeared in the form of two police officers who picked up the cyclist. The officers then directed us to the remaining bus drivers who, with little English and many gestures, pointed us towards the hotels.

When we arrived at the first hotel, we discovered that it had already closed its doors. So we split up and looked for open establishments. I followed bright neon signs with unfamiliar words but only found office buildings and churches. However, the others were more successful and led me to the foyer of a cozy hotel. The smiling lady at the reception offered us to make ourselves comfortable in the lounge if we couldn't find a hotel, and invited us for coffee and tea. She called various other hotels for us, but they were all fully booked, just like the one we were in. So, we decided to stay and make the best of the situation. When I asked if I could spread out my sleeping pad, the hospitable receptionist offered me a separate room in the basement where I could make myself comfortable. I thanked the Samaritan, took my belongings, and went downstairs to the basement, while the others stayed in the upper room.

When I peeked through the door, I saw a beautifully decorated room with blue wallpaper, antique furniture, a fireplace, and a sitting area. The walls were adorned with bookshelves reminiscent of those of a grandmother, a grandfather clock, and paintings set in golden frames. Wall sconces bathed the room in a dim light. There, I set up my little sleeping area, and that's where I sit now, writing. Good night.