Now if I’m being frank when I last visited Norway, over 20 years ago, I thought it was nice, but not for a whole weekend. The weather had been grey and plodding around Oslo hadn’t thrown up anything very memorable apart from the eye watering prices. We’d visited with our in-laws who had great affection for the ‘old’ country. My father-in-law’s parents were Norwegian and my father-in-law, Eric, had grown up speaking Norwegian and immersed in its traditions and cuisine during the time his parents had temporarily settled in Kingston-upon-Hull before returning home. Needless to say my first wife feels a great affinity for this part of her heritage (and no doubt our children will too.)

My bucket list didn’t have an entry for The Kingdom of Norway again but the fjords and the north of the country still did appeal. Anna, keen to return, curated a complete tour of what the country had to offer and we flew into a seriously sweltering Oslo to start the expedition. This is the capital of said Kingdom i.e. has a monarchy. Out of a total population of c5.5 million here contained 1 million people. If the last trip had been grey with drizzle then 28° C and sunny was our greeting as we navigated the streets in the centre in pursuit of our hotel. If this was a surprise then so were the people. Of course, as in all large European cities, the indigenous white population is in the vast majority but as is becoming increasingly the case multiculturalism and diversity was clear to see here. People of African, Indian sub continent and Middle Eastern descent were significant in number as were the high number of Muslim women in headscarves and flowing robes as we lugged our wheelie cases to Reception. I can imagine the surprise of this to my in-laws and Eric’s forebears if they’d been strolling around with us.

After a bag drop we took in the sights and found another import, an Irish bar and partook of a foreign beverage. Less foreign was the £22 it cost although in London it’d probably cost £15.

The city, bathed in warm sunshine was a joy to stroll around. We walked up to the relatively new opera house:

When we return later in the trip we may get inside. The marble roof and surround is sumptuous. As a building, whilst dominating the harbour front, it is ultimately a large chunk of rock with glass awkwardly, yet deliberately, plonked in a vista grabbing location. A further preamble toward the Parliament building and its attendant park was delightful and I rewarded my bride with some shared pizza with no expense spared (£29 + tip). Both of us couldn’t demolish all of this and so some of it accompanied us west on our train ride to Bergen. That was our destination the following day. After a day or two there we’d sail up the coast to the very top, Kirkenes, and fly back to Oslo. Here we’d have a proper look before heading back to Blighty.

The train departed at 8:12am (or as my body clock on UK time would have it, 7:12am.) As breakfast on the Saturday didn’t start at the hotel until 7:30am we were tight for time. You’ll be heartened to know that I still managed to demolish a little fruit, scrambled eggs and bacon and make two sandwiches before making it to Platform 10 of Oslo Central Station along with tourists from every nation to take the train. This is a much travelled route, and mode, for international visitors.

The ride lasts seven hours! However, that isn’t too long as the scenery can be jaw dropping. Woods, lakes, rivers, precipitous rock faces and millions of coniferous trees.

On the voluminous tree cover my wife commented “you could hide a body out there”. Clearly too many Scandi-Noir nights in front of the TV? Aside from thoughts of murder I thought it was ravishing.

Bergen awaited and I looked out of the window and listened variously to music or the BBC Sounds App. I was hoping Bergen might be cooler.