Tag: unschooling

Considering the fact that Tønsberg has been infamous for holding the status of being the filming sight for numerous marvel movies, the most commonly known being it’s role as “New Asgard” I’ve come to the conclusion that Lillehammer; emphasis on the hammer, would have done delightful. Although I’m certain of the fact that even the god of thunder had a hard time heaving up hills.

Well despite the fact, Tønsberg is indeed an abode for godly beings, and today had definitely proved that point:

Today had mirrored the day before, despite the slight shift of breakfast; but I had happily guzzled away. We had managed to catch bus 54, with the help of Dad’s pestiferous prodding, though it had been slightly more eventful then what I had expected.

A little girl, around six, stood blatantly at the bus station. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sniveled forlornly, Dad pointed out. This fact surprised me, for Dad hadn’t been one to barge in the business of other people; though in this scenario I see as to how one couldn’t. We stood rooted to the spot a few feet away, ogling observantly, yet unsure as to what to do. I blinked as a woman bulldozed her way out the bus that had been parked alongside the pavement, scooped the ill-fated fledgling in her arms and bounced back onto the bus. I’m not sure as to why this surprised me, though at a level I had expected her to- at the very least, comfort the poor soul rather than dragging her off like neglected luggage. I wasn’t in any place to protest, for I can’t possibly expect every single mother to be as magnificent as mine. (yeah, yeah, “sucker” or whatnot.)

We tramped off shortly after, though this event had spawned a series of tedious tutts from dear mother, but I doubt we’d ever stray, considering the constant- yet caring cuddles she’d give every few minutes. Some more than others, though you didn’t hear that from me.

Traipsing into Oslo Central had come a teensy bit more natural this time, and the furious fingering we had fumed onto the unfortunate ticket apparatus last time had somewhat subdued, so it’s safe to say we’re professionals now. Even the duration of train had dimmed, and not to mention the fact that the conductor hadn’t been quite as vociferous; thank Thor.

Now onto Tønsberg, the oldest city in Norway. When Mom had stated the fact I hadn’t assumed it’d be a ghost town. That may have been slightly overemphasized, although there truly wasn’t a person in sight. The stores stood vacant, and we were left to mingle with the bitter breeze; for it seemed as if even the sun had skedaddled.

Tønsberg seemed to be surrounded by a rolling ocean of hills and herbage, with tiny tufts of trees brimmed with blossoms. A turret stood isolated on the tippity top fold of green; a turret of which I had had no idea as to exactly how long it’d take to get there.

“I don’t know, it must be something with the internet.” Mom had the map at hand. Now I knew for certain Dad was stumped. We were lost.

Mom gestured wildly towards a road of which had been layered by construction. I sighed, pushing the arms of my jumper up to my shoulders, for apparently Tønsberg had chosen right now the perfect time to convert to sweltering hotness. Dad took charge once more, and we trudged up a steep slope; the likes of which wasn’t smothered by construction, until we halted abruptly at the face of an ivory cottage.

I inhaled sharply as Dad trotted towards a gap between the greenery that sat conveniently alongside the ivory cottage, though if the fact it was somebody’s backyard wasn’t tangible enough, a clothes wrack stood embedded into the earth; although Dad walked on nevertheless.

One by one family trickled away after Dad until I remained. Shortly after the mass of green had engulfed the single remaining family member that had been in eyesight, I sighed as I succumbed, and plunged into the forest.

Mom nearly scoffed at every step we had taken, for apparently she had what was considered experience in these type of things; although I’d hardly call what we were taking “steps”, or rather more of a earthy embrace.

Finally we had made it out, although to my dirty distress my knees were caked in soil, coincidentally on the same day I had decided to start anew in the pant department.

Face to face with the famous fortress. Excitement sparked in my belly, although I feel as if it was partially due to the tarnished trauma it had taken to get there, although of course, the history behind it too. Though the view!! A large lake occupied the dip between hills; calm as well as comforting. Despite the fact that winter was far ahead of us, a layer of glass seemed to plaster the surface, tingling my toes with the urge to sprint onto the sheen surface. The lush grass immersed my legs at every step, though I took care of the fanciful flowers. Wind whipped my face, kissing my cheeks pink.

We stopped by a cafe on the way back down, the original request of ice-cream quickly morphing to a numerous amount of items once hungry eyes were unsheathed. Shortly after a flurry of lip smacking and chomps we made our way to the port, although once the fact that certain items remained sinkable was made clear, I wasn’t as quick to dive in.

The ride back was a sad one, though it had been perfect for pondering. Reflection was inevitable by the time we’d be home, so I might as well ponder. Tønsberg was beautiful, and it had been such an eventful trip it’d be hard to form the right words. Once again I had fallen for another bit of the Norway I had come to treasure.

One thing was for sure, I definitely had a lot to write.