I’ve been back in Albuquerque three weeks. I didn’t sleep enough last night so, before coming to theater-sit this afternoon, a nap seemed in order. As I dozed, trying to sleep, my king-size, ever-so comfortable bed in New Mexico wanted to morph into beds at Neset, on board the Linden and the Finnmarken, in Trondheim, in Stavanger and all those other Norwegian beds—wide and narrow, hard and soft, rolling and still. Sleep wouldn’t come so I decided to focus on one spot—the bed in my pretty cabin at Neset Camping. Which then made the whole of one of my two favorite places on earth come into the hazy view of far-away and I knew it was time to write my farewell posts to Norway. For 2018.
Neset was my home for nearly a week this fall. It was Svein Neset’s home for seven years. Svein was Swan Neset, a lumberjack who lived in Northome, Minnesota when I knew him. Swan was my dad. This was my fifth visit to Neset and I feel more at home, more connected with my history and heritage and culture and family each time I’m there. I feel more me. A slightly silly thing to say I suppose but it somehow feels right.
This stay at Neset was preceded and followed by visits with friends and family, both newly met and previously known. It was and continued to be a perfect time for me until the day I left—and Neset felt like the anchor for everything.
I rather sadly took long last glimpses and last photos before my wonderful friend Olav Neset drove me to the train in Kristiansand. The following bit of history has been included before…here it is again just in case you missed it. Olav’s family and my family both took the name Neset from the outcropping of land/peninsula where the farm, owned by Olav’s family, with some land rented/farmed by my family, was located. My Nesets, besides Torgus (my grandfather), moved nearby to their own land some years before but Torgus, Asborg and their four children stayed on Neset until they left for America in 1910. Olav’s father turned the land called Neset into this beautiful camp site I love so much.
Time to leave Neset again. MY cabin I say. Olav kindly drives me to Kristiansand where we stop at Solveig’s shop where she creates and sells the traditional costume of the Setesdal Valley region. Then I train it on into Oslo.