Random Adventures and 10 Pin Bowling, July 12

Rain. Why does it always rain in this part of the world, I thought it was summer? No matter, a hot cup of tea and some breakfast was enough to make the sun come out again. It wasn't enough to create emails in my inbox though...

My morning was proving to be very uninteresting, but there is nothing quite like boredom to force a decision. After a few minutes of indecisive pacing, I wandered back up to my room for a hot shower. Hot showers make the world a better place and decisions a little easier (mostly because it means putting them off). By happy circumstance, the TV that was placed for easy viewing from the beds, also allowed for a comfortable view from the shower. I procrastinated under the hot water for a little longer until I got shampoo in my eyes. I spent the rest of the morning watching Rihanna dance with her umbrella.

I checked out of the hostel, again, but this time I wizened up and put my pack in a locker. I had learned my lesson and felt no need to repeat yesterday's full body work out, as much as I probably need it.

Feeling good about my day, I walked up to the promenade to explore the shops and watch the people. I had to withdraw some money before I could do much else, but isn't that always the case? It didn't take me long to find an ATM and I went about the process of refilling my leaky wallet.

Insufficient funds.

Um? I tried a lesser amount.

This machine is not authorized by your bank.

Panic? I kept my emotions under control -barely- and thought things through a little. It might be a weird bank sharing, interac thing. Maybe the solution was another bank. Well, do you think I could find another machine after a half hour of walking up and down the main strip? Of course not. Finally, after exhausting the most obvious spots for an ATM, I was forced to think. Perhaps I ought to use the handy dandy internet thing. I could check my account status and get a better handle on what my malfunction was.

As is always the way, I found another back on the way back to the computer, but I was on a mission and I walked right passed. It only took a few minutes to discover the problem and a few more minutes to rectify the situation with a phone call to a sleepy bank operator. It was 11:30 am for me, but way late (or early?) for her. For some reason, the Norwegian cash machines were withdrawing money from another account. I could breath a sigh of relief, I wasn't broke. Yet.

Money crisis averted, I went back to the promenade. I met an interesting man there who was selling shawls and scarves from Kashmir, made by his family. He spends his time traveling and selling his wares around the world. He looked like a man who loved what he was doing, he had the air of a man who was living his dream. For a couple months at a time, he would rent flat in one city or another, and sell his family's silks. I thought about buying one, but they were expensive (even though he would have given me a deal) and I had no place to carry them.

There was very little else to do in Lillehammer and I wasn't much interested in sticking around. I took a roundabout route back to the train station and did see a pretty creek that ran through the city, but it's not like I haven't seen fourteen thousand of those. As usual, I had to hurry up and wait so I could take the right train to meet up with my American friend, Jo Ann. I certainly have a lot of time, I just wish I would learn to spend that as liberally as I spend money, which I have much less of.

Jo Ann and I had plans to meet in Hamar where she was working then head to a little town called Skarnes. My lonely planet guide had it listed and it seemed like a good idea. A good idea until we realized it was over four hours away. Neither one of us much felt like spending the next fours, essentially the rest of the day, on the train. It would have been close to ten in the evening before we got there. Unsure of our options and, for once, my lonely planet book couldn't suggest anything nearby, we did the only logical thing we could think of. We randomly picked the closest town.

And that's how we ended up in Rena, population 2009 (thank you wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rena,_Norway). Rena has one hotel, two pubs (one of which seems to be closed), and not much else. Oh, there is the massive army base nearby, which is pretty much the only reason the town exists. As we marched up and down the street, it soon dawned on us we had two choices. We could either get back on the train and find somewhere else to be or we could pay the inflated lodging costs at the hotel. We were in the middle of nowhere with seemingly no activities for tourists to do, the answer is obvious. We checked into the hotel.

As we were chatting with the hotel owner/desk clerk, we talked about the possibly of going for a hike. We thought that might be fun, considering how far into the middle of nowhere we were. By the time we had unpacked and settled in for a little while though, we had one thing on our minds. Beer. It was definitely that time. So, back to the front desk. Where is a good place to get a pint and sit on the patio, we asked. Our host graciously pointed out the establishment across the street, reminding us it was the only place to go. We thanked him and made our way across the street. (We would be later thankful of the proximity of the hotel to the drinking establishment, but I am getting ahead of myself)

The pub was a nice little place with room for maybe a dozen outside and twice as many inside. The owner didn't speak much English, but ordering beer in most languages is not difficult. As it frequently does, one beer turns into two, and two into three. Somewhere through our second pint, the hotel keeper/owner/tourist information guide left his post to joined his buddies for a few rounds and a rousing game of darts. For those of you who know me well, you may be aware I can sometimes be a little on the gregarious side. Fueled by even small quantities of alcohol, the little voice in my head that keeps me out of trouble and that I do so well to ignore, is utterly silenced. I did a very good impression of the NY Yankees pitcher-styled dart player. The trash talking had begun and I was making new friends.

Near the end of our third beer (that's when I stopped counting), the hotel owner/pro darts player came up to us as he and his buds were leaving. They were off to go bowling and we were welcome to join them. It took us all of 13.7 seconds to concur, bowling was a damn good idea. It may have been the beer talking. I am pretty sure it was.

It took us a few minutes to find the bowling alley. It was at the other end of town, maybe 900 metres away, around a corner, and on the back side of a strange building. Jo Ann told me it was inappropriate to bring up the movie "Hostel".

With our slick bowling shoes laced up tight and our balls chosen carefully (Jo Ann picked a pink one, mine was blue), the battle lines had been drawn. Our first match was against each other. I had hoped to at least put up a good fight, but it was soon apparent I was clearly out matched. After I was solidly shellacked, we joined the opposing ranks of the dueling locals. Maybe with a small army supporting me, I could maybe prove a worthy opponent. Not even close. The first round went decisively to Jo Ann and her crew. By this time the folks I had harassed at the pub were feeling more than a little vindicated and they were saying things that made the old lady blush. Dramatic dart thrower was an equally bombastic bowler. He was equivocal in his feelings for Jo Ann, who he had decided was my girlfriend. He pronounced his ever changing opinions often and loudly. Maybe a little belligerently. In the end the second round went to us, but I am not sure my one strike was enough to reclaim any honour I may have had nor was enough to particularly contribute to the win.

Since no one was able to see straight, we decided the best thing to do would be to pack it in for the night. So we staggered back to the pub. My friend the hotel keeper was in worse shape than I was, at least I could stand without swaying (I think), and decided give up for the evening. Jo Ann had already disappeared into the pub for some vodka shots and I didn't see her until I went in to sit. That's how I remember it anyway, unfortunately there is photographic evidence to the contrary. There is a fantastic photo of yours truly in deep conversation with the hotel keeper, while Jo Ann posed with us for the camera. I think I know who took the photo, but as is evident in the pictures, I am completely unaware of the photographer.

It was 11pm and still fairly bright out side, but things were getting a little fuzzy for me. Fortunately, bad ass dart thrower and bowler extraordinaire bought me a beer and a shot of tequila. Of course that would make things much better. It wasn't long after that and after making a few promises to be up at 8am to paint for one of the locals, Jo Ann and I decided enough was enough and it was time to find the hotel. How fortuitous it was across the street.

Midnight rolled around and it was starting to get dark, everything was awfully fuzzy. Once in our room and starting to get ready for bed, we exchanged a few inane comments, none of which I remotely remember. What I do remember is this; it was late and I was feeling a little, um, shall we say randy. Using my best swagger, I walked over to Jo Ann and kissed her, which of course was received well. Feeling as though things could go very well for me, I surreptitiously placed a couple items next to the bed. Not quite ready do my best Casanova, I left things as they were for the moment so I could drink some very cold water and brush my teeth. As I stood over my bag, trying to retrieve my tooth brush, I noticed the ground was oddly getting closer. Sitting seemed like a better option, I was well on my way there anyway.

While enjoying the stability from a lower centre of gravity, I started feeling a little religious. Getting up, I swayed into the bathroom as though I were a zealot lost in the spirit world and said a few porcelain prayers. I felt remarkably better and knew my morning would be much better for my devotion. I brushed my teeth and collapsed in a heap on my bed and did not move until the morning. Jo Ann had long left the world of the conscious.