The Real Word

Turs of Duty

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 07:58:00 +0000

Norwegians have the idea of going for a walk or ‘tur’ instilled in them from an early age. This weekend I managed to get three different kinds of ‘turs’ ticked off the list of things to do in Oslo, further integrating myself as a Norwegian - Yes!

Firstly, a couple of friends took me out to view some of the local drinking highlights. This is invaluable in a new city, it cuts out a lot of wasted drinking time. I should say that this bar-tur wouldn’t actually be recognised as a Norwegian tur – going on a tur needs to be healthy and outdoorsy, it could be on skis, in a boat, or in the mountains. I like to think I put a British spin on it by making it involve drinking beer in dark rooms with loud music.

We went to The Nighthawk Diner, an American-style diner with great food and service and small booths you can sit in. This appeals to Norwegians who, as one of my companions for the evening put it: ‘Would hate the idea of going for a night out and actually having to be social.’

We also visited a bar where you can play old-school arcade games at your table like pac-man and space invaders (this bar also had booths to sit in). In a second room, which I only glimpsed on the way out, they also had a game played on long wooden tables that was something like curling. I have no idea what it was or what it was called but it without doubt the most exciting weird bar game I have ever seen in my life. Ceramic discs were spun slowly down an alley of wet wood with the aim of knocking opponents discs off at the far end. I’ll have to go back and play it and let you know what the hell it is. We walked back home at about 02:30, I guess that, as it was a walk, then it was technically a tur as well, but it might be better to call it a stumble.

A little worse the wear from my bar-tur the night before I decided a cycle ride would be just the thing to make me feel better. Not too sure where to go to on my road bike I decided to head for Holmenkollen, a famous ski jump in the hills above Oslo that is being rebuilt in time to be opened this winter. You can see it from the city centre so I figured I could get there without getting lost. I’ve mapped my ride here.

On the way there I fell in behind another guy on a road bike going at a similar pace. I tucked in behind him for most of the way. Having done this for about half an hour I started to feel a bit embarrassed about tailing him in silence. When you’re tucked in behind another rider they take some of the wind off you making it easier to cycle, so I was leaching off him. My cycling inexperience started to show: should I take the lead for a while? Introduce myself? Have a chat about cycling? Ask him if he was going all the way to Holmenkollen? I moved to overtake but as I came alongside him I got nervous and in the end I just smiled, said ‘Hi’ and sped off up the hill.

Holmenkollen is at 1200m elevation and we’d already been going up hill for a long stretch and I was tired, but having suddenly decided to leave this guy and take the hill I had no choice but to press ahead and make sure I didn’t see him again.

I made it to the top of Holmenkollen about ten minutes ahead of him. I know this because I nearly passed out at the top and had to stop for water and a banana. While I was doing that, sweating at the side of the road, he overtook me. He smiled at me in what might have been a triumphant sort of way. The lesson is: slow and steady wins the race. Unless you’re in the actual Tour de France and then fast and steady is probably better.

It took me about two hours to get up there and then twenty minutes to get down. I don’t have a speedo on my bike but I think it’s fair to say I may have broken the speed limit (although no bones) on the downward journey.

The third tur in three days was from our home in Sagene out to Mariasvannen, a reservoir close to Oslo. We followed the beautiful Akers river, but my mapping tool only lets me show you the closest road, see here. Akerselva dissects Oslo in along its North South Axis and we followed it away from the sea and out of town. There was a fine misty rain on Sunday, despite weather forecasters confidently predicting the best weekend of sunshine in the countries history but it made for nice walking weather, the whole place looked really luscious, green and beautiful. Within an hour we were outside of inhabited Oslo and looking at the huge expanse of Mariasvannen. I’m planning to mountain bike out there this week and take my fishing gear with me as long as I can work out how to buy a license from the post office.

In Norway they have a saying: ‘Ut på tur, aldri sur’ literally: 'Out for a walk, never sour'. I feel exhausted, damp and achy - but definitely happy.

Professional man of leisure

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 10:05:00 +0000

New work strategy: become a professional man of leisure.

When we decided to move to Norway we started selling stuff so that we wouldn't have to transport it. Then I had a brief visit back to Norway and remembered just how expensive everything was. The new plan became to horde as much gear as possible and bring it all with us.

In a brilliant moment of foresight (to which I am not often privy) this included a lot of sports equipment, two bikes (mountain and road) a frisbee (yes, I'm counting a frisbee as sports equipment), two fishing roads (ditto) a basket ball, rugby boots and trainers.

What this all means is that despite not having a job and not being able to afford beer I can afford to get outside and do sports. I've joined the rugby team, I'm investigating cycling teams, Camilla and I shoot hoops in the evening and I'm going to go fishing this weekend. I'm not jogging. I hate jogging. But there's all kinds of healthy things I can be getting on with (when I'm not looking for work). I've lost half a stone.

A friend and I were talking about how training, exercise, sport and outdoor activities were absolutely integral to Norwegian culture. So I guess I'm integrating too. I'm even managing to tan without burning, something I've never managed before and something that immediately and completely camoflaged my Britishness. It's like an invisibility cloak having a tan (alright, a bit of colour) in Norway, people just assume you're not British.

I'm still meeting people and still enjoying the queues of a new countries administrative institutions - but you don't want to hear about that, it's boring. A highlight this week is that my Economist subscription has finally been rerouted so I'm back in the loop of International politics and intrigue. Hooray!

Me in the winning ORK side against OSI, Oslo

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 07:33:00 +0000

I'm the one at the back right, in a very clean shirt and blissfully uninjured body.

The search goes on

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 07:30:00 +0000

I'm still looking for work. I have an interview this week on Tuesday for two positions. They explicitly state on the application that native English speakers are preferred. I'm currently researching for both roles and have my fingers crossed that the interview will go well. I'd like you all to join me in crossing your own fingers too.

I'm also in discussion with three different organisations about freelance work, am continuing to meet people in the publishing and education business in Oslo and have thrown what limited support I have to offer behind a project to launch a Children's Literature and Storytelling centre, planned for the heart of Oslo.

The other thing I've been able to do, for the first time in 8 years, is play Rugby. I've joined ORK (Oslo Rugby Klubb) for training twice and for their match last Saturday, which they won. The picture of the winning side is above.

They were very kind and let me into the picture even though I was only actually on the field for less than a minute while the second row got a blood wound seen too. During that time I spectacularly failed to make an impact, unless you count knocking the ball forward almost immediately as making an impact.

To be honest I was relieved to be off the pitch. I need some more training to condition my body and remind me how to tackle properly. Otherwise I'm likely to get injured. The problem with me getting injured, or ill, at the moment is that I'm currently between medical insurance schemes and can't afford treatment. The UK kick you out of the National Insurance system if you say you're moving abroad. Norway won't let you in theirs until you have a job. (See above re: keeping your fingers crossed).

Two people were knocked out, one broke a rib and there were plenty of sprains and bruises. I'm going to stick to training for now.

Life begins in Oslo

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 18:22:00 +0000

I'm now in the, slightly difficult to sustain, position of needing to get a job, but ALSO needing the threat of impending homelessness and doom to make the blog worth reading.

If the blog becomes a happy description of a perfect life in Norway with skis and ice-cream and friends and my own oil rig it'll be boring. Eventually I'll probably revert to discussions about zombies again and nobody wants that (Although you really all should because talking about it is the only way to prepare for it).

Lucikly, for this post at least, I'm still unemployed and therefore my life and dreams hang in the balance and if that's not enough to interest you then what the hell?!

This morning I woke up early to go and stand in the very long immigration queue. At the front of the queue I was told I could have stood in the much shorter immigration queue in some other building that I'd missed on the way to their building. But the joke was on them! I had seen the other queue but I didn't want a short queue. I was feeling homesick, I wanted a long queue. A queue with forms to fill out and then further forms to fill out because you'd filled them out slightly incorrectly. I was not disappointed.

I was disappointed at the treatment my British Passport received. My passport, like the passport of all British citizens was issued to my directly, along with a kiss on the cheek, by the Queen herself. She spends most of her time (when not on Royal display) nipping around the country in a van delivering peoples passports personally.

So when they gave it a bit of a funny look and then started prodding it and then holding it under ultra violet light and then picking at the corners of the personal information page and then calling another person over, and then asking to see my drivers license and then looking at my face and the picture in the passport about FIFTY times I felt compelled to ask them if there was a problem. They said my passport looked old. But I like my old passport, I'm trying to fill it with stamps. So? So it doesn't have any of the fancy iris technology or easy to use scanning things that one of your new-fangled passports has. It's retro. Retro is cool. Everyone knows that (apart from Norwegian immigration control).

Anyway, they recommended that I get a new one. You hear that Queen? One new passport over here please. Best get that van on a ferry sharpish.

In other - someone I vaguely know moved to Norway and insists on telling me all about it - news: This week I made a new front disc break on a mountain bike and made some curtains from actual material cloth to hang in the kitchen.

The big road trip

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:56:00 +0000

Well the first thing I learned about doing a 24 hour road trip is that there's no way you can do live tweeting on the way.

Most obviously, you're driving - a lot. You can't fire off snappy messages. Even if you could you're so tired that they'd just say, "Now in Germany" or something equally pointless. Tiredness is cetainly a problem when you're driving for 24 hours. It's really important that you wait until you're the passenger before you let yourself fall asleep. Also logging onto the internet whilst abroad would have cost me what little I have saved up for arriving in Norway.

So I sent a few tweets and then decided to do a round-up summary blog about it instead. That's what this is.

I had grand plans for taking a picture of a manhole cover in each country. Everybody likes manhole covers, look there's even a blog about them here. However, we only found one interesting one in Oslo with a custom hole cut out of the middle of it for a lampost. Here's the link.

I also wanted to try some elaborate and local roadside dish in each place but we just kept eating ice creams. I did get one thing called a "kipstick" from the Netherlands, it was compressed chicken wrapped in cornflakes. It was nice (ish). Here's a picture of that too.

We managed it though, we drove there, all the way there, non stop in 23 hours. We slept about 2 hours each and the had our pedal to the metal on motorways for the rest of the time.

It was easier on the way back with a lighter van and less stress to deal with (we knew the route by then) but driving through the night on the way there meant no pesky traffic or trucks to deal with.

I've seen all the motorways of Europe from Autobahns to E-Roads and my analysis is: That they're all much the same but with different speed limits. Germany fastest, Norway slowest. Wow - that's the kind of exciting analysis I know you were all hoping for.

Have I learned anything about Europe along they way? No. Not really, only that Europe does feel homogenous, but not with the UK. My British family's insistince on this is a continuous source of annoyance to my European wife but there is a real divide. There's even an article about it in The Economist here. and everything I read in The Economist is always true.

After 2 days solid driving on motorways it starts to feel like the most boring simulator programme on a computer game. Imagine it: Sim-motorway, just hold the wheel steady for 23 hours and then turn around and watch all the same scenery again.

The total cost was about £750 which is £250 cheaper than the cheapest quote I could get for shipping. It was an adventure, an achievement of sorts, and I'm glad I did it. You can do it too using this informative Google map: MAP

Special thanks to my dad: Driver, navigator, co-pilot, reducer of stress, drier of tears. He of the credit card, the only-slightly-out sense of direction, the non-snorer was a constant travelling compaion. In fact, if you do this drive yourself, look him up.

I fly out to Oslo again on Thursday this week.

Then I need a job.

Hooray! An interesting manhole cover from oslo

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:48:00 +0000

This ferry was named after my dad.

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:48:00 +0000

A road side snack from the netherlands

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:46:00 +0000

Roadtrip to Oslo tomorrow

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 12:07:00 +0000

Last Friday was my last day with Egmont, where I’ve been working as a publicist for three years.
In my leaving speech I began loftily saying that leaving Egmont was like having to leave a really good party early, but degenerated into revealing that one important consideration of the move to Norway is that it’s more easily defensible from zombies.
Overall it was a good speech. Only one person cried and nobody hugged me, but I’m sure they would have done if they weren’t eating all the cakes.
I received the most amazing wrapping paper, covered in a repeating pattern of Chuck Norris (people think there’s a resemblance) and within that wrapping paper was whisky and a book about surviving Zombies (by Max Brooks) hence the zombie rant.
So just to clarify Norway is good for avoiding Zombies for the following reasons: Low Population Density, surrounded by water, high percentage of chainsaw ownership, lots of islands and shear rock cliff faces. Of course it’s never a sure thing with Zombies. According to Norwegian movie Dead Snow there are Zombie Nazis out there in the wastes of Svalbard and as most Norwegians are towering athletic types I reckon they’d make particularly hellish zombies.
But anyway, this is not a zombie blog or a zombie rant, this is about moving to Norway. Just don’t be complacent! There. That’s my last word on zombies.
In positive moving news I’ve signed up for Job Seekers allowance so that I can claim it when Io arrive there to tide me over. Perhaps there’ll be some political debate about benefits in the comments section? Nope.
I’ve also booked the van for our 24 hours road trip to Oslo (and back again) next weekend. We're following the route Clarkson took in one of those Top Gear challenges.
I’ll be tweeting live from the road trip as I cross through seven different countries and will attempt to post one of each of the following from each country:
• Us eating a local snack or delicacy
• A regional manhole cover (see www.manholecoversoftheworld.blogspot.com for those)
• A picture of us looking tired
• A picture of us trying not to kill each other
Follow the journey on twitter @Open_Book
PS. Still open to couriering something back to the UK for anyone in Norway with transport issues.

I'm moving to Norway! (again)

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Thu, 20 May 2010 16:28:00 +0000

My wife and I are moving to Oslo, possibly FOREVER, but certainly for the next seven months, it's all sort of dependent on various things.

Number one amongst those things and foremost in my mind, is that I need a job. My wife has one, it's why we're moving, and it's a good job, so that's fine. No really it is fine. But I'm walking away from three years and a possibly glorious and underpaid future in the world of book publishing and publicity in the UK. What am I going to do in Norway?

I do speak Norwegian, and we have lived in Norway before, and my wife is Norwegian, and we do have friends there, and we have recently found an apartment. So actually you might be thinking to yourself, why doesn't this guy shut up? But I was already thinking that about you before read this part. I pre-empted you and there's nothing you can do about it now.

Things that I might do in Norway range from the unambitious: work in a fish gutting factory to the overambitious: get a job on Norwegian Radio. In between are some more realistic ideas that I will let you know if I pull off as and when they occur.

When you tell people you're leaving London almost everybody says, “I was thinking about doing the same but I'm not brave enough/ I don't know where I'd go/I can't imagine how I'd do it”. Which suggests that most Londoners grip on London is remarkably tenuous. The answer to all questions about how you come up with the courage, tenacity and vision to move to another country is that you don't,your wife does. All you have to do is dolefully agree and then scuff your feet and huff and sigh quite a bit about how hard it is for you. Not just anyone can do it.

Things I will miss about London:

Friends
Cycling to work along the Regents Canal
London Fields park
Free museums

There are already two things that I'm looking forward to. Cycling around a new city is one, the other is that I've joined a Rugby team already. Wierdly the rugby team have asked me to send them a picture of myself in a state of undress so they can assess me. I can't work out if this is for personnal or proffessional reasons. Despite having played rugby myself for some years (I played under current England Captain Stephen Borthwick at college) their request isn't doing anything for the common misconception that Rugby, a bit like Ultimate Fighting, is full of people that need to stop surpressing their homosexuality.

Things I'm not looking forward to about Norway:

It's pretty small
Everyone will be better looking than I am (I keep mistaking Norwegian female twitter followers for spambots)
A half pint costs £5

To those of you reading this as friends, I doubt there'll be an awful lot of surprise in this move. For those of you who know me through work or twitter this really won't change the way I know you very much at all. I'll still be on Twitter, email, and here.

Perhaps we might even get to know each other better! No . . . no that seems unlikely.

London bus campaign targets Cam/Clegg pact

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Wed, 12 May 2010 15:35:00 +0000

My next door neighbours drum and base all nighter

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Sat, 01 May 2010 06:24:00 +0000

This video taken at six thirty. I've got a drum and base song for you it goes like this: "du du der du der du du der du i hate you."

A two foot long Asparagus Spear

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 22:11:00 +0000

As grown on my balcony in Hackney. Do I win a prize?

Why our designer hates me.

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 15:19:00 +0000

This blue peter effort is what i call a brief!

Snowman at leisure

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 16:48:00 +0000

That's not a snowman...

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 16:41:00 +0000

Just to be clear i have been at work today. This is from Christmas.

My favourite bulldog clip

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 16:11:00 +0000

Shattered dreams #tweetmas

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 21:19:00 +0000

@misscellany breaks @benjohncocks glass at #tweetmas

My favourite hole punch

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 13:48:00 +0000

Our digital teams update newsletter

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 12:35:00 +0000

Not normally something to inspire you to read on but here is this weeks digital team's newsletter from our business:

Due to an event that defies description, this month’s DIG update has been switched with a DIG team from a parallel universe. Sadly there is no time to correct the problem so we’re just going to have to run with this one.

The DIG (Danger Intervention Group) has been busy this month. Many situations have been intervened in and danger avoided:

Jo De Lange: As many of you will be aware, the prophesy that speaks of “the leader of the group” is coming to pass as Jo prepares for her Transition at the end of January. The physical changes needed to perform the Transition have begun which will explain any protuberances you might notice. Please don’t mention them. This month Jo has been instrumental in helping to intervene in some very dangerous situations indeed. Her assistance with the metaphysical cushions is most noteworthy.

Pete Blunt: The enhancements fitted at the beginning of last month have now swollen to their full size and Pete is now able to perform at higher altitudes and with more vigour than ever before. Land based activity is now almost completely non-existent and Pete can be seen most mornings gliding just above the second levels.

James Ball: The excursion to the inner rings of the outer rim have proved fruitful for Commander Ball who can report some success dealing with the multi limbed horn beasts of Hrangling Point. We all know the issues caused by these beings so any improvements to our relationship with them should help us avoid incidents in the future.

Nicholas Greenfield: Our time travelling friend has intervened in many dangerous situations and has managed to un-cause accidents that would have happened next month. In doing so he has saved the lives of some 37,000 Fellows. This brings Nicks tally up to almost a million Fellows this year alone.

Denise Rattray: Skills learned during her time in the legal time have been bought to bare in recent interventions with wandering gangs of scavenging monkeys. As you know, scavenging monkeys have been on the rise in the last 6 months and pose a particularly dangerous threat to commuters and other sub-intellect travellers. Denise’s work has managed to smooth the underways and cleanse some of the denser Paths.

Steve MacManus: Being turned into a glass of water last month has not deterred Steve in pursuing his intervention action points. Although his work is now slightly hampered by his new form, Steve has managed to intervene in several situations by spilling himself into the path of a rampaging Thnad (the beast then slipped and broke its neck) and allowed himself to be drunk by a thirsty tramp (on the brink of death by dehydration). We’re not sure on the whereabouts of Steve at present but suspect he is now waiting to pass through the tramp and make his way back to the office water cooler.

Richard Starr: managed to avoid a paper cut from a particularly vicious piece of A4.

Hunger first pics

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 15:32:00 +0000

#danwho?

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 14:22:00 +0000

#danwho?

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 08:43:00 +0000

Crashed out- in a good way.

noreply@blogger.com (Alistair Spalding) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 17:44:00 +0000