It is not light at midnight, no. But it’s not exactly pitch-black either. You could play golf here in Oslo till about 10:30. I’m told the sun is rising about 3:30. I’ll never see it (except by accident).

Here is a picture of the Storting in the evening. The Storting is the Norwegian legislature. It is a citadel of democracy. Look at it glow.

• Almost every day, there is some sort of protest or rally outside the Storting. That’s what you get, in a democracy. These people being Norwegian, the protests and rallies tend to be pretty dignified and polite.

The below photo shows a demonstration whose purpose is murky to me. The essence of it is: opportunities to work, for all.

• It is unusually hot — unusually hot — in Oslo. Take a look at these sunbathers, on a Sunday afternoon, after a long, cold winter. Imagine the relief on their bodies!

• A dip in the fjord — that’ll cool you off:

Quick note: Oslo Fjord — that’s the official name — is not really a fjord. A true fjord, you get in the west of Norway, and they are narrow waterways, with tall cliffs on either side. Oslo Fjord is more like a bay. But still . . .

• Some water, some boats, a fortress in the background . . .

• Pretty dang spidery:

• This is the opera house, in the evening:

One morning, I pass the opera house, and I see exercisers. They are doing various calisthenics, under the guidance of a nice and fit young woman. I think of joining them. But the moment passes and I go off in search of a doughnut.

• This is not the opera house but the Oslo Concert Hall, and we are looking at a bust of Mariss Jansons, the great Latvian conductor, who led the Oslo Philharmonic from 1979 to 2002.

Jansons was one of my favorite musicians and favorite people. For my appreciation of him, after he passed away in December 2019, go here.

• Kinda glassy, huh? And kinda classy.

• Let it not be said that Scandinavia is uncolorful . . .

• Those stilts, they do come in handy.

• I’ve always liked this guy, a tilter:

• Young Norwegians tend to speak idiomatic American English. They tell me they learned from television, and YouTube. They say, “No worries.” “I got ya.” “It’s all good.” Amazing.

• The convenience stores are marvelous — not just convenient but stocked with good and fresh food. They beat the heck out of the convenience stores where I live. You’ve got 7-Eleven. And Narvesen. And Deli de Luca. A local tells me the products in those stores seem interchangeable.

I have seen more 7-Elevens in Oslo, Tokyo, and Taipei than I have ever seen in America. I actually meet a young Norwegian during my stay who’s thinking about taking a trip to Taipei. I tell him about the 7-Elevens (he’ll feel right at home). I also say, “You better go before the invasion.”

Grim, I know.

• It is a pleasure — a pleasure — to tramp all over the grounds of the royal palace. They will let you go practically anywhere. I think of a line from a spiritual: “When I get to heaven, gonna put on my shoes and gonna walk all over God’s heaven.” Also, the grounds are absolutely immaculate. Pristine. Everyone behaves . . . Norwegianly.

Culture makes such a difference.

• The house, at the rear, is a dark yellow, or something. I love that color. It says “Oslo” to me. And many things here are very old. But you can see the infusion of the new — as that electric car gets charged up.

• Another house, whose yellow (if that’s the word) is similar:

• I’ve known this kid for many years now. He’s always angry. Never settles down.

• Man, did he capture boyish exuberance:

The “he” is Gustav Vigeland, that master sculptor.

• The sense of movement and play — extraordinary:

• I think these may be weeds, technically — but they’re flowers to me, and I like them a lot:

• Isn’t Sonja Henie adorable? I don’t mean to slight her, or to condescend. She was a great athlete, winning three Olympic gold medals and a slew of other championships. But still: Isn’t she adorable?

• If you ever wanted to know what it was, or where it was . . .

• Kind of a nice scene:

• The Sofienberg Church, handsome:

• I had never seen Stolpersteine in Norway — only in Austria. Stolpersteine are stumbling blocks, things you sort of trip over, and they’re meant to remind you, or tell you about, Jews who were arrested, deported, and murdered.

These in Oslo memorialize the Watchman family: Philip (an antiques dealer), his wife Florence, and their son Arthur (16). Shipped to Auschwitz and murdered.

• Downtown, a march, in support of the Ukrainians, as they try to repel a horrific, murderous invasion:

Solidarity is a noble and necessary thing.

• This is a writer I was not familiar with — Oskar Braaten (1881–1939), a novelist and playwright:

• The big three in Norway — big three writers — are Holberg, Ibsen, and Bjørnson. They are memorialized on the façade of the National Theater:

• Wanna talk food for a second? You can get almost anything here. For example:

For another example:

Another:

Never has a Japanese restaurant looked so Norwegian:

Hey, what do you think this is, Maine?

• I think we ought to have another shot of the Storting, at night (or “night”):

• I also think we ought to have another shot of the fortress, and surroundings:

• Summers can be brief in Norway — very brief. A lady tells me that her father used to say, “Last summer was on a Wednesday.”

• I thought this sculpture was rather nice — touching. By Ørnulf Bast (1907–74).

• So English (meaning the language):

• So English!

And yet, Oslo is blessedly Norwegian, and one trip makes you want to return for another. Thanks a lot for joining me today.

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