Destination: Oslo, Norway. Why? Well, why not. Natalie called me over spring break notifying me that RyanAir had cheap tickets to Oslo, and since we had both been saying we wanted to go, we booked it. You see, Natalie is Norwegian. Take a look at her cheek bones, you can tell. And I am not Norwegian, just in case you were wondering, but I have this goal to visit all of the settings from my favorite books, and Per Peterson’s Out Stealing Horses is probably in my top ten (you should definitely check it out). So, off to Norway we went, just the two of us, not knowing at all what to expect. It took a total of 12 hours to reach our hostel. I could tell you about our long list of setbacks—a 2 mile walk to the night bus stop in Chelsea at four in the morning, an extremely extensive security check, a missed flight, a diverted flight to a completely different airport, and a whole other list of uncalculated events, but it worked out. We were in Norway, a place I never imagined myself visiting.

The first thing you should know is that Norway is extremely cold. Surprise, surprise. Natalie and I began our one and only day in Oslo walking to the Munch museum. Munch is an artist from the early 20^th century. His works are very emotive and personal, one might even say depressing at times, but in the way that depression can be kind of glorious. The Munch museum, in which most of his works reside, has had the most painting stolen out of it to date. As in, in 2004 two guys dressed in black drove up in an Audi with guns and stole two of the paintings. In other words, this museum is definitely a must see. As we were trekking through Oslo trying to find the Munch museum using only Natalie’s memory of the map we left at the breakfast table, Natalie and I walked down a path and saw a greenhouse. First off, you should know the obsession my family has with green houses. Second, you should understand what this looked like. Here’s this park covered completely in snow, looking very blue and white and beautiful, but also stern in all its coldness. Then, in the distance, there’s a green house. It’s funny because it’s not like we could see the plants from that distance. We could only see the windows and the way the light lit up the inside with a kind of steamy warmth, and we knew, possibly from childhoods spent watching Frosty the Snowman each and every Christmas, that it was a green house. In that moment, as my lips felt like they were about to freeze and fall off my face, I had never seen anything more beautiful. When we went inside I literally felt like Frosty the snowman, like all the coldness wasn’t merely being warmed out of me, but like it was melting away in that little green haven. So, in conclusion: Green houses in cold climates—very good choice for the cold of spirit.

What really stuck with me on this trip was the trusting spirit of the Norwegian people. Natalie and I used the metro to get to the Nobel Peace Prize Museum, and spent about fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to buy a ticket from a machine which only had directions in Norwegian. Finally, we punched the right buttons and headed towards the train. But here’s the thing: no one ever checked for our tickets. There was not control, not swiping a card, no man controlling who comes and goes. The whole system is based on trust. Despite this, despite the fact that the people of Oslo could easily get away with never buying a ticket, we continued to see Norwegian people walking up to the machine and buying a ticket like it was an everyday occurrence. As an American, I was left in awe of the fact that people like that even existed.

I only spent 36 hours in Norway. I saw the snow, experienced the cold, and met the people. When Natalie and I woke up two hours late, the administrator of the hostel was just as flustered and worried about us missing our flight as we were. I couldn’t help thinking, “I’m so sorry we don’t have more time Oslo!” I wish I could see the countryside. I wish I could come in the spring. I wish I could go tobogganing, I wish I could see Vigeland Park in the day time. That’s an element of the international experience I think, whether it’s a good or bad thing, you’re always left wanting more.