After we moved out to the suburbs some three and a half years ago I barely frequent the city streets any more. I remember how strange it sounded, talking to people out here then, who told us they rarely visited town, mostly because everything they needed is found in these parts anyway. But it can’t be helped: I do miss Oslo, even though we live in what is considered part of “Greater Oslo”. Yes, being a native Bergener I still consider Oslo my Heimat, as it were.
But I can’t help reliving that feeling I had, just a few years upon leaving Bergen 21 years ago; that everything had changed each time I revisited, which very much is the case with Oslo, too. For instance I’ve noticed over the last couple of years, that every Christmas a trashy “Christmas market” resurfaces on the city hall square facing the sea, made up by horrendous, terrible white tents resembling a travelling circus of sorts. Does look good at night though:
The Christmas market in front of the Oslo city hall. Mobile photo: Jarle Petterson
Walking past, in the direction of the older parts of Oslo, the original Christiania, I came across the new café depicted on top (alas a mobile photo, too); Café Skansen, which must’ve opened some time this year, by the look of the mural inscription. Seems awfully cosy, though, and very much in line with the area’s original architecture, which is always a plus.
But the city’s changing, almost on a daily basis, which is quite frustrating for those of us who rush to and fro meetings only once in a while. Take the leading shopping street, for insance, through which I passed the other day. For one, there were new shops I’d never heard of everywhere. Even three adjoining businesses, of some significance, one way or the other, had been replaced: The Harlekin restaurant, in which I once had the mother of all hang-overs nursed by the fireplace, replaced by a number of shops. Next to it, a Bose concept shop was in place of the Bang & Olufsen store. Brought up with B&O impressions, both audio- and video-wise, I’m still quite fond of the brand, not to mention the designs, even though I’m no longer prone to buy their goods. Still, seeing it gone feels a little odd. Next to it, the little Strikkolf shop, in which someone I used to know once worked… Poof! All gone — in a neighbourhood I actually visit on a monthly basis.
Change is good, I suppose, but please: Give a poor man time to take it all in, will you?