While Fluffy enjoyed the cleanliness of his cage and the sanctity of our living room, we decided to make the most of yet another rainy weekend and ventured out for a day in the country, somtething a bit easier with the luxury of a car. After realizing that our options for an exciting Sunday excursion, with rain coming down no less, were quite limited, we opted for Moss, a small coastal/agricultural community about an hour's drive from Oslo, where Tobias had previously visited a gallery. This is a typical story of life in countryside Norway.
With no traffic delays, we make good time to the small gallery called F15, situated on a large farmsted between the coast and a forest. It is the countryside's answer to the urban oasis, and so Norwegian. It is a place for the city folk to pay a visit and claim to have experienced something cultural, while in reality, they have done nothing more than dawn rubber boots and a rain parka and head out for their usual weekend walk, passing quickly through the gallery en route to the cafe, and taking a few deep breaths of good country air on the way back home. The gallery is lacking in art, instead is supported by the sale of cinnamon buns and carrot cake and bad coffee. I shouldn't discount the exhibit, which showcased sketches and lithographs from the Norwegian polar explorer Fridtjof Nansen. Apparently, the guy acquired quite the knack for sketching more than navigational routes on his journeys and his works weren't half bad.
We seemed to have beat the weekend walking crowd to coffee, so upon our early departure, we we decided to stop at the neighboring farmsted advertising garden stuff and antiques. When we passed earlier, there wasn't a whole lot happening, but as we approached, there seemed to be loads of cars attempting to park and adults swaddled in gortex, walking with baby carriages and Norwegian nuggests abound. We became wrapped up in figuring out what could be happening and parked the car. First, we passed a "butikk", seeminly doubling as a parking lot for the strollers. Next, we passed a smattering of farm buildings in typical red and white, advertising antiques and art and even chocolate. Then we came upon a stand in the yard selling the o-so-tasty Norwegian concoction called Lapskaus, the Norwegian answer to stewed leftovers, served with flatbread. There was no lack of coffee and cakes being sold further back, and the yard around this area was filled with wobbly small children noshing on raisin balls. Finally, we came upon the reason for the presence of so many small children. It was a summer kiddy production of Norway's answer to Bob the Builder, the Gray Tractor. As the outdoor theater opened and family after family rushed by, we opted for a quick exit. On the way out, we passed the pig pen, or rather, the home of the largest hogs in history. Perhaps an exaggeration, but really, these ladies were bigger than any I had seen in my 4-H days in Nebraska.
Those of us trying to make a fast getaway, the pensioners and us, were backed up in traffic for kilometers. And then... as if it could have been any more comedic, I chose the wrong line at the toll booth. The machine didn't seem to be accepting any coins so we just sat and sat, until finally someone had enough sense to run inside and inquire for help. And we continued back through the rain, back to dreary Oslo, and back to the coziness of the sofa where we passed the rest of the day with wine and bad Sunday television.