The first signs of wildlife appear in Oslo as
Chelsia begins her wilderness adventure.Grey Netjetter Chelsia has landed in Oslo, en route to Sweden's tundra wilderness. But her first orienteering challenge is to find the local tourist office. You can email Chelsia with travel tips at chelsia.netjetter@guardian.
co.uk
Just off the plane? First time in a foreign city and want to know how to get to your accommodation? No problem - to the tourist office, of course. "Just down to the road, madam, to the corner turn left and it's 200 metres further on - you'll see the tower, can't miss it." So helpful, they are, in Oslo.
The road he's pointing to is pretty obvious, so I hoick up my rucksack and trundle down to the corner - only it's a massive spaghetti junction, and there's no way of crossing eight lanes of traffic, dodging the trams and getting to the other side alive - even for a seasoned jay-walker. But there's a guy with a cheesy smile and lots of blonde hair by the lamppost, and he's bound to know what to do - only he doesn't understand English.
I cast about, ignoring the chap snoring on the step, and walk back past the hypodermic needle still attached to its syringe, to a narrower section of the road, and watch the traffic for a moment. Just make it to the middle of the road, stand still, then charge the rest. Ignore the 17 kilos on your back which are rapidly becoming 18, 20, 25 ... It can be done. Big breath, and I've made it! But at the corner there are a lot of tall buildings - which is the tower I need?
Into the train station - they must know. "Of course, just down the escalator and turn right," and there it is, clearly marked Tourist Office, only there's a big sign there "The Tourist Office has moved to the tower". A fellow traveller is staring about, as confused as I am. We compare notes - he's from Israel, and hasn't made any accommodation for tonight, but he understands towers. I follow him. Down the stairs, out into the square, and there it is - the clock tower. Of course - it's always underneath the clock tower! Now why didn't someone mention that? And at last I'm on the No 17 tram, heading to the north of the city.
The tram grinds up the hill through a commercial area. They do a good line in graffiti and drab paint work, but I disembark at a park where the lawn has just been mown and smells of England, and naturally there's a footie game in progress, and the little guys seem to be scoring all the goals, so it can't be all bad.
Tomorrow I'm off to find the cafe on the harbour which does prawns fresh from the sea, highly recommended by my new best friend, Heidi from Germany, who's on her seventh trip to Oslo, so she must know - and she sold me the second half of her 24-hours transport ticket for less than half price!
