What can good baguette do to you...

Today we had b-day lunch at my Mum’s place in Arles. We were almost getting started when I suddenly realized something vital was missing, deadly missing: a baguette! So I took the bike and went to by one, of course. 80 cents of euros. Cheaper than in Montreal – actually half price. Life is a long stream of event punctuated by baguettes, so the cost of baguette matters. But damn, what about the quality? The crust must be tightly crispy, because it must break between your hands very easily – almost like the crust of a creme brulee. And yet the inside – la mie – must be tender as flower petals from Central Asia! Oh yes like in Central Asia! Or just Provence.

So, to be back to where we were, this baguette was amazing. Astonishingly amazing. I was amazed. I was delighted. And I was hungry. Ah, lunches in France… It’s always something.

Indeed after series of  barbecue meet and merguez, taboulet, diverse salads and multiple Tiramisu sparkled by Champagne and strawberries, I could finally rest. Eating isn’t nothing here.

It was a long and eventful day. Now that I’m back home in safe Provence I can digest this 17th of May that I passed in Oslo… And it was quite something.
As most did I suppose, we started by going to the main street in which the parades went on. As soon as I got to the subway station I got flooded of red and Norwegian flags. Ja vi elsker dette landet, Yes we love this land.
The main street was now a giant big Norwegian flag. Oslo that seems so quiet on normal days was now crowded with Norwegians walking around in their national dress and flags and the sounds of drums from the marching bands were omnipotent. But that wasn’t it.

Indeed we then met Solvor, Sabrina’s friend, who brought us to this Norvegian Socialist Christian Society party in a huge flat right around the corner, and there bottles of Cava – spanish champagne – kept appearing straight from heaven.

And then they played “Fairytale”, the Norwegian song that had just won the Eurovision contest on Saturday, putting the [enormous] speakers right on the windows so people started dancing in the streets. That was one of the funniest party I’ve even been to.

But then if that wasn’t enough we then went to a terrasse bar to have more drinks, which was very nice because I got a suntan.

And then, finally, we went to Grünerløkka to have more beers, wine and barbecue. It was crowded there also and people were grilling their hotdogs everywhere in the good Norwegian tradition. Yes, that was a tiring day. At 9 p.m I suddenly realised that I waws thirsty like a coyote because I had been drinking champagne and other alcoholised substanses for almost 10 hours in the middle of day under the [not famed enough] Norwegian sun… Crisis. Luckily they sell water in this country, for only 6$ a bottle. Herregud!

Rooftop of the Opera of Oslo

Oslo, Norway. Yes it may seem out of the Silk Road, but that’s where I am right now, as I came for about 2 weeks to visit Sabrina’s family. I was looking forward to analyze this Wonder Country with my critical political eye, especially after having been constantly harassed by the Norwegian community of Montreal who brag so much about Norway.

Ah ha! It ain’t that different! I saw many very angry stupid people, just like douce France, and much complaining about almost everything. So I wasn’t that lost, except maybe for the fact that things are written in Norwegian everywhere… And in the bus from Sabrina’s father’s place I was the only non-viking looking, with my dark curly hairs, olive tan skin, Jewish nose and glasses (no one wear glasses here, it’s all about contact lenses) and I felt very much like everyone was staring at me. But it was probably because we were speaking English. Yes.

Yet it is good to be back to Europe, where drinking cafe or beer in a sunny terasse in the middle of the day is an art. We had many walking tours in Oslo Sentrum which is not that big, I met all the members of my step-familly, I got rained away, I went hiking in the forest surrounding Oslo and encountered all the sporty freaks (any normal Norwegian spend 10 hours per day working out in sport gears worth thousands of dollars – or kroners actually), I paid 7$ for a city-bus ticket, and I ordered an espresso in Norwegian. Wonderfull. And there shall be soon more histerical experiences to relate here…