Just half a day remains, and little remains to be told of it. Breakfast in the Perminalen is basic but filling, on what seems to be the usual Norwegian buffet style. The crisp clear sunshine of the day before has gone, replaced with the first day of gloom and drizzle that we’ve seen in this city. Undaunted, we stow our bags and head across town.
The first destination of the day is a military store I’d noticed on our previous trip. We find it without too much trouble, but like others of it’s kind, it’s dark and gloomy and gives every sign of taking itself too seriously. The items I’d been hoping to find aren’t there, but even if they were, they’d likely be too expensive.
We move on, back across town, to the Opera House that lies amid the docks, near the train station. Completed only recently and designed to resemble an iceberg, it’s an imposing sight. We climb all the way to its roof for a view over the nearby ships, careful not to slip on the wet granite. Once again, we’re too early to wander inside and instead move on.
The Akershus Fortress that once guarded Oslo from invaders was an optional goal of our wanderings, but we have time enough and decide to head in. Its massive walls are undergoing renovations, but they’re still obvious enough to make this a suitable headquarters for Norway’s military, complete with a uniformed soldier standing guard. The highlight for us, though, proves to be the Resistance Museum, which offers a full and frank retelling of the occupation of Norway during World War II and the efforts of patriots to free it. Following its carefully laid-out trail takes up a good chunk of our time remaining, so when we move on, it’s with all due haste.
We make a quick return visit to the Nobel Peace Centre, in search of trinkets a little less kitschy than the usual fare, but the time has come for a quick lunch, and to get that, we return to the Perminalen. After enjoying our last Norwegian waffles of this trip, we grab our bags and make our way to the train station and the airport express. Once again, all goes smoothly, which is either a tribute to forward planning, or to dumb luck.
We’re waiting in the departure lounge for our trip to Heathrow as I type this. Presumably, there’ll be nothing more to tell, so I’ll draw a line here. If this should happen to continue, you’ll know that there was at least one more incident of interest awaiting us.