Ålesund

So it's been over a week since my last post and there's a few things to chat about.

I absolutely did not nail, smash or own the steak I cooked. In fact, I over seasoned the medallions, over cooked the chips and the sauce turned out a little lumpy. Oh, and I forgot all about the tomatoes until the last minute so had to leave them out. I did look fecking wonderful in my apron though.

In more positive news, I am really beginning to fall in love with Ålesund. There is enough hustle and bustle in town to make it feel like a city, but small enough to avoid that sense of intimidation I sometimes get in big cities like London or Oslo. At any point, I can turn my head and see the ocean ('Norwegian sea', but who gives a shiz?) or mountains or an expanse of trees and beautiful homes, all unique but following that distinctive Norwegian theme of quality and use of local resources. The people within Ålesund have all been incredibly welcoming, not being bothered if I ask them to switch to English briefly (I ask in Norwegian, which helps) - I do still get called Jesus, though.

To take in all this beauty at once, I climbed the 418 steps up Aksla mountain to take advantage of the Fjellstua viewpoint. Trying to get my arse in shape, I decided I'd run there then jog up the steps, chill for a bit then run back down and home. The jog there was lovely, I felt muscular and compact in my new running tights, like corned beef hash. A few stretches at byparken, an immaculately kept park at the base of the steps, and I was ready. As this is a TripAdvisor dream, there were shit tons of tourists buzzing around who all seemed a little miffed that I was running up. One local kid gave a "heia heia" to encourage me. His child senses identifying that I was already struggling. I smiled, trying to look confident. A couple of americans exclaimed "Are you running to the taaap?", "I'm going to try" I replied, again smiling. I waited until I rounded the corner and out of sight before I sat down.

View from top

View from below my face.

In the last week, I´ve been making coffee at Tante Bruun, an awesome independent cafe in the Storsenter. Got my latte game tight. Before and after work, I usually go for a little stroll around, finding little peaceful spots to chill for a bit - in the evenings, Stine and I have been meeting up with Gunn-Eva and Hanne to hang at the park or beach (yes, beach) and have discovered that there is FRISBEE GOLF. Actual frisbee golf. Free frisbee golf. The last time I played was back in New Zealand, which although I still bang on about it like it was my last holiday, was actually 7 years ago. I have noticed that Ålesund, and probably Norway in general, builds small places for people to use for free without the fear of vandalism or misuse. People tend to hold themselves with enough dignity to clear up after themselves and not draw a massive penis on things. This isn't to say that the English always do this, but the fear seems to be there: Why spend local council money on a frisbee golf if after 6 days they will all have the word TWAT written on them with a couple of mobile numbers should you be interested in some 'cock fun'? 

Tante Bruun

Sorted out the builders.

View from a bench

I didn't jump off it

There are a few projects in Ålesund that excite me - Housing First, where Stine works, is one of these places. They literally drive around and meet with participants and help them. These participants all have some sort of substance abuse problem that they are trying to overcome, and instead of being left to lose everything and end up on the street, they are helped to find and maintain a home, pay bills, make appointments and therapy sessions. Last week they picked up a donation of washing machines, ovens and sofas and went round delivering them to the participants. This is a job! An actual paid job to help others that need it. Not only that, the employees are paid a proper living wage - no food banks necessary.  Another project called suppebilen (soup car/van) is run by a guy who brings his VW camper out twice a week to feed people in need - they have a boat which they are trying to renovate into a small business, touring the islands and serving food and drink, with the profits helping those in need. I wonder if they need a barista? 

Been getting some bants for wearing this. In fairness, it is Stine's equivalent of my year 11 maroon jumper.

Nordmann level: high. Also goggle eyed.

Class on wheels.

As part of my integration into Norwegian life, I thought I'd get myself training with a local football team. I asked around at work, and did a bit of googling. Rollon F.C came up so I gave them an email, not knowing what sort of level/seriousness they are at, or whether they'd reply. Within a few minutes I had a reply and was asked to come to training. Arne, the administrative dude for the club sorted me right out: picked me up from our gaff, arranged some boots and training kit (I don't have any boots, the last ones I wore resulted in me having to pierce both my big toe nails with a hot paper-clip to release the blood that had filled each toe...They got infected and I lost them both. That was 9 months ago and I've only just been able to clip the regrown nails). On the way to training, Arne told me that the mighty Jon Arne Riise is signed to the team, although due to his pundit and other superstar commitments he is away at the moment. He wasn't joking. I even just googled it to make sure it wasn't just some wind up for new English people.  I was also informed that over half of the players are left footed which scarpers my usual advantage of being a lefty.  Anyway, after trying on several pairs from the boot-room (including J.A.R's - too small) I found the perfect pair, donned the training kit and nervously got on the pitch. The players and staff were all accommodating, translating instructions as we went and generally making me feel welcome. The level is high. The intensity was high. My fitness was low. I just about held my own, football-wise, but my word did my lack of fitness show. After two hours, at the end of the match bit, we walked over to the drink bottles - me thinking 'thank feck for that, I need a snus and a sit down' the manager kindly told me that we were doing box-to-box runs to finish. This basically means running nearly the length of the pitch, stopping for a few seconds, then running back. Many times. I nearly passed out and had to miss out the last two runs. I hate quitting and was apologetic to the players and staff but luckily they had more empathy than my coaches back in the day. I'll be back at training next week to see if I can improve and make the squad at some point. 

Roll-on

Proof

I haven't been able to walk properly since training, so work and general life has been a struggle. Sampling a load of salmon and salami at the food festival, coupled with a few beers and tacos with the peeps on Friday has eased the pain. Currently back at Lepsøya with Stine's brother Frode and his partner Emma... And of course mormor and morfar. We just ate 'potetball' which are strange mashed up balls of potato, fried and served with different types of fried sausages and vegetables. The sort of food that warms your soul and insulates your heart with cholesterol. Worth it.

Boats and hoes

Skål :)