Holmenkollen, coffee, and Norwegian friends part III

Since I couldn’t see a red house and/or white tent near the ski jump, I decided to head back down the mountain a little ways. I then ran into a dilemma.

There were multiple red houses.


Only one of the red houses had a white tent by it, though, so I figured that was the one. I didn’t know how to get down to it, though. I walked back up to the ski jump, but it was soon clear there was no way down to the group from where I was at. I walked back down to the road and finally, after some twenty minutes of walking around, arrived to where I needed to be. Outside the red house I found a few people shoveling. I was told these were the people I would be joining, so I walked over to a girl with red hair.

Her name is Eugene, she’s from the north of Norway, and she goes to UiO too! Plus she’s super friendly and outgoing.

Luckily I missed out on the shoveling (wait no, I mean, ohhhh darn, shoveling is my favorite!), but I did get to help move a garbage can. Exciting stuff, right?

Afterwards we took a break, even though I had only been working for five minutes haha. I got Freia hot chocolate (YUM YUM YUM) and met a bunch of other people. Of course one guy introduced himself to me in Norwegian and I’m sure I looked terrified as I said, “Sorry, I don’t speak Norwegian.” Everybody then switched to speaking English for me, which was very nice of them. A few of the people in the group were Norwegians, but a few others were from different countries, including the Netherlands and England. Even the non-Norwegian people spoke Norwegian, though. It was confusing to me because one of the Norwegians had an Irish accent… what? I still don’t understand, since he was born and lived in Oslo most of his life.

They asked me a lot of questions, including how my Norwegian language class was going. I told them I was having problems pronouncing “ø,” so all six of them started saying it at once. Okay, thank you, but all of you saying it at once isn’t going to help. I tried pronouncing it though, AND I DID IT.



We sat around drinking hot chocolate and coffee for a while. Since there was nothing left to do in Holmenkollen, we went over to Wyller, which is where the halfpipe and slopestyle are, I think? I can’t be bothered to check it right now, sorry.

Wyller is sweet, though. When we were there they were shaping the halfpipe, which apparently is a lot steeper than I thought. They were also working on making jumps on this one insanely long mountain. Meanwhile, eight year-olds were skiing like crazy people down the mountain. Of course I didn’t see one person fall. Sheesh, Norwegians.

Wyller is so cool, though. I’m going to go back and take pictures of it eventually since it just looks so terrifying but fun.

We had a bit more to do in Wyller. First we moved long planks of wood into a tent (yes, very exciting). Then these cords were buried in the snow but evidently they weren’t supposed to be, so we had to essentially dig a ditch in the snow to uncover them and pull them up. It would have been fine except the snow was partially made of ice, so we had to hammer away at it for a while. My arms were killing me.  We then had to dig another, smaller ditch in the snow to bury a cord elsewhere.

After that it was time to leave, so we took various means of public transportation back to civilization, then back to home. Because I have apparently lost all shreds of common sense, I decided it would be a good idea to ski 11 km. I skiied almost to the cabin that we went to on our first skiing adventure. I didn’t ski all the way there since there’s a very very steep slope just before the cabin. I didn’t think I would survive going down it, so I just turned around at that point.

On the way back, I had to go down a very long slope. I managed to stay upright for almost the entire hill, just falling near the end. I was so proud, though. Then, then…


It’s funny because I wasn’t planning on skiing down the icy hill of death, since I was still scared of it. Just before I was going to take my skis off, however, I ran into my friends Isaac and Stine, who were skiing the other way. I told them I was going to walk down the hill and Stine said, “No, you can definitely ski down it! Just stay to the left, away from the ice.” After they left I gathered up all my courage and slowly made my way down the hill, staying to the left.

And you know what?


Towards the end of the hill, I was celebrating my ability to stay upright. I then hit a patch of ice and almost fell over, but I managed to keep my balance. I’m just glad I didn’t throw my hands up in the air in celebration, since that definitely would have sent me crashing to the ground.

Time for part IV! This is taking way longer than I thought, sheesh.


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