People sometimes make very unusual comments. One of my favorites was one I heard today in Bergen.
In the morning, Lars drove me to the bus station, where I took a bus from Stavanger to Bergen. It was incredibly hard to leave Lars’ family. It generally takes me at least six months to become really attached to people, so I was not anticipating having such a difficult time leaving them.
The drive to Bergen took about five hours, and I was still feeling a little depressed when I arrived. I made my way to the hostel, left my stuff there, then just wandered around the town. I stumbled upon a pretty lake and some interesting statues of famous Norwegians. I was also planning on finding Bryggen, “the Wharf,” which is a UNESO Heritage Site, but Bergen was a very confusing city for me to walk around. Normally I don’t become lost in cities if I know the general direction I need to walk in. Bergen was the exception, much as Lars’ family was the exception to my attachment rule. I ended up wandering around, lost, until I finally figured out that I needed to head farther west to get to Bryggen.
That’s when I finally stumbled across it. Hallelujah.
I ate dinner in the kitchen, while taking notes of what had happened in the previous days. At one point a guy walked through the kitchen and asked me, “Are you a writer?”
I replied, “No.”
He responded, “You write like a writer.”
He then continued on his mission, whatever that was, leaving me to ponder, “What exactly does a writer write like?”
By the way, it should be noted that this day in Bergen was sunny and warm, with no rain whatsoever. That just doesn’t happen in Bergen. It ALWAYS rains in Bergen. For once, Mother Nature decided to side with me.