Please read this before your trip to Oslo!

When you think you’ve booked a trip to Austria and arrive at Oslo’s Gardermoen Airport, you know your journey has been planned by a man who hasn’t planned at all.
“You keep going on about Austria — you know we’re in Norway, right?” My wife said.
I threw her a patronising glance from over hunched shoulders as I pushed our luggage through arrivals.
“Ermmm, think I know where I booked Kris….” I replied.
She laughed, and I looked over at her again.
“The pictures you showed me were of Innsbruck Austria, this is Gardermoen in Oslo”, My wife affirmed.
I slowed to a stop and shook my head, tutting, “Do you know how ridiculous you’re about to look — Oslo is in Austria.” I said, searching the airport for evidence to back me up. I looked around, then down at the ticket stubs — then at the flags dotted around, and finally back at Kris.
“Shit — I could have sworn Oslo was in Austria?” I remarked.

“No darling, Oslo is in Norway”, My wife replied, slapping my arm.
“Don’t worry about it; we’ll have a good time regardless”, she continued.
That’s my wife for you. Pure beauty — brains and practicality — end of.
We headed outside to look for transfers to our hotel; on the way, we walked into an airport shop, and I grabbed two 500ml bottles of water out of the fridge. I began making my way towards the cashier before Kris stopped me — phone in hand on calculator mode.
“You do know how much those cost, right?”
We both observed a slight pause.
“Airport prices, don’t worry about it”, i replied with a shrug, moving past her to pay.
“No — it’s 74 kroner”, she responded.
I couldn’t tell whether her tone was one of excitement or shock.
“What’s that? 80p or something?” I said, not knowing a scoobedo about the exchange rate. We Brits are so f**king smug when it comes to that pound, aren’t we! Not to worry! Norway will fix that sharpish — Read on!
“More like six pounds!” She replied.
“Six pounds for water? — No way!” I responded, my mouth a massive O.
We both stood dumb-struck looking at each other — hoping this was some raucous, one-off airport thing. Out of principle, we went with the good lord, and thirst made four. We got on the bus to our hotel — sure local shops would put right what that shop had got so damn wrong.
Lets’ press on, shall we!
The scenery as we travelled was just as you would imagine from any northern European country. Oslo and its surrounding areas are beautiful, green, pleasant, clean, well maintained and put together.
We arrived at our stop and began making our way towards the hotel. As we usually did — we looked about for a shop to get supplies for our room, namely water and snacks. We found one nearby and split up inside. I walked around, phone in hand, my newfound hobby — checking the price of every damn thing. I picked up two packs of Pringles and two — two-litre water bottles and totted up the prices. Now bear in mind in the UK that selection would cost £4, maybe 5! Errrm…So why am I doing the bleeding calcs, and it’s nearing £13? I double-checked with the exchange rate again, and all had been calculated correctly. I started to walk the isles in search of my wife — the implications of such trivial items being so expensive began to dawn on me. If water is this pricey, food-food must be a black hole of pounds and pence. I finally find her — peanuts and other stuff in hand — she looked at me with this smile — a smile I’d seen on her face before, and I can tell you now, it wasn’t one of Jimmy the cricket joy!
We left the shop £30 down for two bottles of water, two tubes of Pringles, peanuts and a bag of sweets.
Oh deary, deary me — How long we here for again?
Anyhow — we got to our hotel, and it’s stunning. We went up to our room, and the first thing I do is jump on the phone to enquire why we have two separate beds? The receptionist informs us that all double rooms come with two single beds in Norway that can be pushed together if needs be. Make sense? No? You decide.
We looked around the hotel for a bit and discovered that they had a drinking water station downstairs in the restaurant area; we take note and decide at £3 for a bottle down the shops, we’ll be getting very acquainted with it.
Taxi!
We got going to the city centre, and at this point, I’m dreading how much travel is going to cost! Now let it be known I’m no tight-fisted git! But I am fond of uh good old budget when abroad, and my old mate Fleeceway (formally known as Norway) wasn’t having a penny of that. Like it or not, my debit card was set to be Liberal and laboured whilst here!
We got to the train station. As you do — we began faffing about with the ticket machine, selecting every ticket type except the return tickets we needed.
Cue the helpful local (The first and wouldn’t be the last)
The tickets were actually reasonably priced — the train stations and trains looked quite dated but were uber clean. The public were polite and considerate, miles away from what it’s like in London.
We were beginning to feel like we were on holiday now. We sat relaxed, taking in the scenery as we travelled to Oslo city centre. Nearing our stop, we got a bit confused about which one to disembark at; luckily, a Norwegian woman overheard us conferring over the tube map and offered to help. There we were thinking she’d merely tell us when to get off, but instead, she went one step further and actually got off with us, then walked us out of the station and pointed us in the right direction of the road we needed before going back down to the tube to continue her journey home. Wow! I know, right- Kindness level 100!
Hunger had begun to sidestep the most expensive Pringles and sweets we’d ever eaten. We decided we’d play it safe and go for good old reliable McDonald’s: Location — Klingenberggaten. I mean, nothing bad happens at Micky Ds, right? Of course, the prices are the same the world over, no? As we approached, I began to devise a contingency (stingy) plan to crack Norway and her little pound demeaning problem — Ya see, I figured — 4 x reasonably priced Filet-O-Fish meals a day, two for me two for her, one at lunch, one at dinner would = full bellies and a happy wallet, the only problem I could foresee is that she’d never go for it :( Me? I’m a dustbin at the best of times and could do Micky Ds for weeks — Mr Oslo — weeks!!!!! Let alone a weekend… make up for all those times mum said no…
Anyhow.
We were stood side by side looking at the menu, and my heart just sinks; the first thing I saw was a big mac meal for £22! Contingency plan in absolute tatters, I didn’t even bother looking for the Filet-O-Fish. Kris just laughed, and I smiled, praying her stomach could hold out till I figured this crazy new world I had brought us to out! We have a little discussion and decide if we’re going balls to wall; we may as well get something fulfilling. We Googled the nearest Thai restaurant, got to it, but decided it looked uh tad shabby — so we ended up leaving there and going for an Indian instead — ‘The Great India Restaurant’. The Indian restaurant was okay — service was good — the food portions were reasonable, but the price was eye wateringly high. We shared a starter, had a main and a single drink each — and it came up to £75! :(
No, really, how long are we staying again?
Bellies semi filled, we explored a little bit then headed back to the hotel.
We opened a bottle of wine and drank over jokes and conversation about *Drum roll please* You guessed it — the cost of living in Norway!
One day down, two to go.
We headed down for breakfast which was included in our hotel package. The plan was to eat a strong meal and take rolls, fruit and whatever else away with us to put in our rucksacks for lunch. Our trip to ‘Austria’, which was actually Norway — unbeknown to my wife had become an exercise in stinting and survival. Before we left out, we filled our bottles of water and packed those into the rucksack as well.
We had brought 2 x 48-hour city pass for attractions. Most of the main attractions were a boat trip away — up the famous river fjord to the Bygdøy peninsula — that housed the Fram museum, Kon-Tiki Museum, Norwegian Maritime Museum, and the Viking Ship and the Norwegian Folk Museum.
I know **MUSEUM OVERLOAD**
If forced to chose one of the above over the rest, It would have to be The Fram. The museum offers a full cinematic experience documenting the trials and tribulations of the Fram (a ship), her many crew and captains — made famous for her groundbreaking boat design and, most notably, her numerous attempts at reaching the North and South poles. The museum is fully interactive with loads of things to push, pull and throw. Once you’ve finished up in the museums, you can walk around Bygdøy peninsula and see more classical, authentic Norwegian housing structures and churches.
After having a good time, we caught a boat back to mainland Oslo at around four o’clock — a lot later than expected. By then, our bodies had all but burnt through the fruit and cheese baps we’d taken from breakfast — for lunch.
Dinner time!
When you have to constantly watch your pockets, it can begin to take the shine off a holiday. We just weren’t use to living like that anymore. Back home, we wouldn’t even think twice about buying a chocolate bar, sandwich, sweets or a McDonald’s meal. Norway had humbled an already humble man further, reducing my spending age to about 12.
We began our search for dinner, a process we would usually enjoy whenever abroad — a chance to try something new! Not in Norway, honey — no-siree-bob! You see, Mr and Mrs Falconer were hunched over their phones, rucksacks at the back — Googling cute little terms like ‘cheap eats Oslo’, ‘cool places to eat on a budget in Norway’, ‘How much does a kidney fetch in northern Europe?’. We conferred over a few restaurants that looked as if they had potential, but the drive to find lower-priced places consumed me. Let’s have it, right guys! Am I the only one who believes paying almost £100 for two main meals, no drinks, no thrills is absurd?
Anywho — out of nowhere, two random guys ask if we’re okay — they probably asked us as we had been stood there for a while looking at our phones wrapped with the signature bum bag at the waist, rucksack at the back look — screaming tourist.
One of the first things I ask them is how the hell they could live in such an expensive country? They explain that wages reflect how things are priced out there, and boy — O — boy was he right! I would later discover that the lady who tended to our room earned just shy of £ 25’000 a year! A new police officer, nurse or retail manager in the UK barely got near that amount annually.
Forget the cute bird towel antics; housekeeping needed to be leaving us some paper plane pinkies on our pillow.
I eventually get round to the real burning question, the best place to eat on a budget? They both suggested a vegan Asian buffet called ‘Krishnas Cuisine’ in the ‘Colosseum Senter’. A lifeline!
We got directions and got on track. The place was basic, but the food was good, the prices reasonable. I’d like to say the all you can eat cost £35 each, a little steep, but when a big mac meal weighs in at £25, it is what it bloody well is. We waddled back to the hotel cumbersome, our stomachs filled till the brim with chickpea curry — various rice types, nan and delicious deserts. A small victory for the Falconers — however, our success would be short-lived as the next day would be my wife’s birthday, and I have a rule, I don’t care what it is, I pull out all the stops on dates of such importance.
Oh boy!
On our way to Norway (formally known as Austria), we had brought a bottle of champagne in our luggage to toast my wife’s B-day. Unfortunately, our luggage was a little overweight — and the champagne became a deciding factor — of course, the lady overseeing our troubles could have given us a touch (Let us off) but decided she’d go with The One Who Shall Not Be Named — and even had the audacity to say “sometimes customers can uh.. ya know — gift things to airport staff.” So I did. I walked over to another staff member and handed it to them. “Enjoy your evening”, I said. She was so thankful. You should have seen the nasty ones face!
I thought, ‘F’ it! I’ll get another bottle on the other side. Unbeknown to us, the champagne we thought was expensive in arrivals was a handful of penny sweets compared to how much a bottle would cost in Norway.
My wife goes up to our room at the hotel, and I make some inquiries at reception. I wanted to know whether the hotel had bottles of house wine — the receptionist reached beneath the counter and backed out a small, miniature-sized bottle of wine. Now the fact I had placed two empty plastic water bottles on the counter — ready to be refilled (because who’s paying £80 for water?) might have given her reason to believe I needed the cheap bottles. Now I must admit — at first, I was slightly offended and was going to demand a regular-sized bottle — but something inside said, “be easy child,” spare yourself the blush and ask how much? “Twenty pounds for one!” I replied. She laughed, and I hauled my ass up to our uber beautiful room (at least we had that, ay?). As my wife slept, I began Googling things to do on her Bday but got sucked into searching for stuff like the average cost of items in Oslo — best bit of comedy I had read in a while, trust me — no wonder there were no visible drug addicts or husky humans — contraband and excess eating came at a hefty premium. I fell asleep without a plan and woke up knowing my debit card would be ridden like a rodeo donkey! “Happy birthday, baby!” I gave my wife her gift and card. We had a wonderful breakfast; we laughed and joked as we always do. I love my wife, man…We get on each other’s nerves at times, but that’s life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Last day — Birthday!
We decided to make use of the remainder of our city passes. We visited the world-famous ‘Nobel Peace Centre’ (one of the few attractions open on Sunday in Oslo ). Let’s just say we weren’t disappointed — we spent at least two hours there. It was very futuristic and had beautifully put together displays, with highly informative — digital information plaques. The centre covered everything from diligently explaining the origin of various conflicts worldwide to a room full of interactive — LED-lit, animated pictures of every single Nobel peace prize winner to date. They have images that will blow you away, information about mankind that will probably piss you off — but ultimately inspire thought within. I highly recommend the centre to anyone visiting Oslo. Once out, we made our way to The Royal Palace and found somewhere to sit and eat our packed lunch. We spent the next few hours exploring the city in greater depth, which is all you can do on a Sunday as everything is closed. I love this about Scandinavian countries — they still kept their tradition as their foundation and core. They don’t break their core or budge for anything. I believe all people of the earth should be allowed to live anywhere they please, but in saying that, I also think the classical culture of a country must be upheld or we end up with countries without distinct identities — now how boring would that be. The evening had begun to draw in, and we decided we’d buy a cake, a bottle of something, head back to the hotel, order take out, play a bit of music and chill for my wife’s birthday. Sounds like a plan, right? Well, let the games begin.
On the way back to the train station, I got to Googling places to get a bottle of whatever within our radius but kept coming up against a brick wall. Eventually, I was like, ‘sod this .’ we have several shops near where we were staying and was sure they had alcohol there. Fast forward, we got back to our district, and the bloody shops were all closed. We go to reception and ask where we could go, and it turns out you can go to Ermmm! NOWHERE! Because my good friends and readers — the alcohol monopoly closes at 6 pm Monday — Friday in Norway, 8pm On Saturdays, with the cut-off for buying booze even earlier on a Sunday at 3pm, which can only be purchased from Vinmonopolet outlets. Well, guess who bought two Fisher-Price sized bottles of wine at £20 each from reception?
You guessed it — Me!
We headed up to our room with our tiny bottles of wine and began looking about ordering food. My wife loves pizza, so we start down that path. I began looking for two for ones from Dominos, and there is none, no deals, no discounts, nothing. Just a single pizza for absolutely astronomical prices. I started to Google local independent pizza pedlars, and like the big boys, they have no deals or discounts. I ended up paying £40 for a single XL pizza -no sides, no-frills, just the pizza. We had a good night all the same and slept well, knowing that the next day we were headed back to good old Blighty where things were sensible (Cheaper). We packed and cleaned up the room and Jumped on our shuttle bus back to the airport. Now let it be known we enjoyed our time together in Oslo, no doubt about that — loved the people and the attractions, but that exchange rate was working our pockets over, ain’t nobody got time for Oslo’s games, no time at all. Forget Dubai or Monaco — if you want to show me how big your purse is, survive for two weeks in Norway and come back without touching lint!
At the airport, we brought a half vegetarian baguette for £17!!!! Merely bread with sliced vegetables
and cheese — I didn’t even flinch as I knew all these wild shenanigans would be over in three hours tops, and I knew exactly where I was headed once I touched down on the UK’s green and pleasant land.
On the way back, we sat in unusual silence — a precursor to the carnage that would ensue. We parked up in Asda’s car park — grabbed a trolley, and walked through the sliding doors with a glint in both our eyes. You would have thought it was Christmas the amount of booze, sweets and general bad shit we had loaded up! We walked the aisle, strident in our endeavours. We paid and barely touched the thirty-pound mark (By the way, our low prices for bad stuff is why we are a nation of alcohol-abusing fatties — and Norway isn’t, just saying ;). We sat in the car and set about our sweet edibles as if we were on one of those televised off-the-wall eating competitions — sweet wrappers and muffin crumbs going left, right, and centre. In the wake of our unofficial protest to Oslo’s freakishly high prices, we sat there for a while and began to Google/tot up what all of that trash would’ve cost in Norway…Real knee-slapping stuff. We got home, popped open a bottle of cheap Cava and ordered a two for one pizza deal from Dominos, with… wait for it….two sides — grand total £25!!!! — Don’t mind if I do, mate!

To conclude: Oslo is a beautiful city — super clean — people are helpful and polite, daytime entertainment is okay if you like a lot of history (I do, so I loved it), but I can imagine children would get bored very quickly. Now you know this was coming. Value for money — flights and accommodation booked from the UK are very reasonable, but once you get there, be prepared to spend — spend — spend those pounds. Bear in mind — the cost of living in Norway is 51.79% higher than in the United Kingdom, so Prices for everyday things there are outrageously high to us Brits. Let’s have it right, when you feel like you’re about to purchase a big-ticket item (like a £45 pizza) every time you want to eat, it just isn’t cool and can put a slight dampener on the trip, so be prepared. Saying that, I still haven’t finished with Norway yet — I plan to return and see the Northern lights one day — but this time, I’ll be ready.

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