Tromsø; Wednesday, 18 July, 2007

There was once a series of adverts in the UK, which went along the lines of “Ground Coffee taste without the grind”. At 9am, on Clapham Junction station I discovered a “retail outlet” which has managed to perfect “Instant coffee taste, with the grind”! It kind of set the tone for the day, everything just slightly less perfect than it should have been.

It’s mostly my own fault. I had been planning this trip for the best part of a year, booking the flights, hotels and majority of the transfers the previous September. In my mind, everything was going to go perfectly, there would be no issues, no problems and every leg would run smoothly and to order. Of course, a significant part of this all hinged on the British transport infrastructure, and the reliability of officially the worlds worst airline for loosing baggage in getting me to Scandinavia in the first place. The coffee was just the first reminder that there were darker forces at work than my meticulous planning (and let’s face it, there are no forces darker or more disturbing than British transport catering!)

Having made it, without further incident to Feltham and the bus to the airport, things were looking up, until, just before Hatton Cross tube station the bus stopped at the lights and then failed spectacularly to move again. After lots of engine revving, and air brake application and de-application, the driver accurately and concisely announced he had discovered the full technical reason for the problems. “The bus is knackered, everyone off, you’ll have to walk to Hatton Cross!” The walk itself is not particularly arduous, or long (less than 400m and on the flat) the issue lies in getting from where the bus was to the tube station, the other side of all six lanes of the A4, on it’s approach to the airport!

Having successfully negoatiated my way to Hatton Cross, avoiding being mown down by delayed motorists determined to catch their flight, I managed to pick up another bus through to Terminal 4, where I discovered the one thing the “fast bag drop” wasn’t was fast. 45 minutes later with the advertsing “When you arrive at the airport drop your bags at the fast bag drop and sail through to the departures lounge smoothly and effortlessly” ringing hollow in my mind I was standing at the back of the queue for security. Thankfully, for once, BAA had got enough staff on, so I was through security in a couple of minutes.

I got to the gate shortly before boarding was supposed to commence and waited, through the boarding time and up to the time when boarding was supposed to have closed. Finally, just 5 minutes before the flight was due to have departed, they announced that boarding could start, the usual scrum commenced, which I have never quite understood on a full frills airline, as everyone already has their seat. 15 minutes later we were all in, belted and ready to go. It’s at this point that they announce the flight crew (pilot and first officer) have been delayed on their inbound flight from Manchester, and that we will be delayed for another 30 minutes of so, until they arrive!

Eventually, once the crew had arrived we took off for an uneventful flight before landing in Oslo over 40 minutes late. I walked through the terminal to the baggage reclaim and awaited the arrival of my bag. 30 minutes later I was still awaiting the arrival of my bag and was starting to get concerned that BA had managed to loose it. Spending the next 12 days travelling around Scandinavia in the same clothes did not appeal, with the added disadvantage that as I wasn’t staying in one place more than a couple of days bags would never catch up with me. Thankfully, after another 10 minutes or so my bag finally appeared on the belt so I grabbed it and made my way to the train into town and onto the hotel.

After checking in and dumping my luggage I went out into the early evening sun of Oslo. I took the metro out to Frognerseteren up in the hills overlooking the city to take in the views of the Fjord in the summer sun. The last time I had been here it was the shortest day of the year, and there was very little light. Today, less than a month after the longest day, and with Oslo not really experiencing much in the way of night, the scene was more breathtaking.

I caught the train back down into town and spent a good two hours wandering around the city centre taking in the sights, before heading back to the hotel for some sleep, ready for the early start the following morning.

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