Back then: September 2024. An excellent time was had in Norway and in Paris. Coming up: November 2024. The end of the US as we thought we knew it OR we are saved by the skin of our teeth or in the nick of time or just barely…or whatever.  

But Now. October 2024. I’ve been intending to write three praiseworthy blog posts about my September trip. I published an Oslo introduction a while back, but time and gloom and dog sitting/gym going/book happening kept me from the big three until now. First Kristiansand, Norway for a look at the good (pleasant, responsible, manageable) life in what is commonly said to be one of the most robust democracies in the world, with what appears to be a democratic-socialist world-view…in other words, the majority of the population can live decently. Then Stavanger, Norway with the same aura of good sense surrounding me, while visiting a cousin exactly my age with much less fear for the future of his country and his grandchildren…though he certainly does fear for us. And finally, Paris, my favorite place in the world. Yes, I’ve confirmed that after many years away, wondering if that was really my opinion. Yes. It. Was. Is. Will Be Forever. And hanging out with Teresa there added a fine glow to the experience.

Let me share my joy-of-traveling stories while life is okay. I admit to having an increasingly hard time focusing on life’s joys, when I, like so many Americans, am living in a state of near panic every waking minute. Hopefully my stories and photos will keep me sane until November 6^th…and beyond.

I’ve written about Norway and my fine cousins before. Quite a few times actually. There was a small difference with this visit—an underlying sort of melancholy on my part, based on the possibility (probability?) this will be my last trip to Norway. To Europe, in fact. I must keep in mind that that is not a cast-in-concrete reality. With a body willing, a mind still doing whatever it is that minds are supposed to do, and a few dollars in the bank, I can return. Of course, nothing guarantees those conditions for any future.

It’s not that my Norwegian cousins are somehow a rare breed of perfect human beings, better or more loved than my American cousins. It’s just that finding and getting to know them has extended my world in ways both exciting and important to me. I was given a heritage to explore and honor, deeper knowledge of family culture, and cousin-friends who are all fascinating in each their own way. It has, quite simply, been so much fun!

Kristiansand. The pretty town very near the tip of southern Norway from where my grandmother boarded the good ship, SS Hellig Olav, with her four small children (including my dad, Svein) to sail to America.

I’m visiting cousin, Tone, her husband Simon, son Erland, daughter Oda, and new grandson, Louie. I met Tone’s mother, Gurine, on my first trip to Norway in 1985. She was a lovely woman, a schoolteacher, and quite an explorer of what life is all about. We were good friends in a way, although we only saw each other a few times. I’ve once again read the letters she wrote to me over the years from 1991 to 2010. She describes a full and satisfactory life with people she loved, but also that sense of of moving from ‘participant-to-observer’ status that we all seem to experience as we age. Gurine is one of the people in my life with whom I wish to have spent more time, from younger selves discussing our adventures to two old ladies sitting on a couch reminiscing.

I absolutely love Gurine’s Tone and her family. They have all been so kind to me over the years, and entertained me royally with glimpses of the best of life in Norway. A bright new chapter of my times with Tone and Simon, and including Erland, Oda, and Louie will follow soon. There’ll be small stories of our jaunts in and around Kristiansand and on up into the Setesdal Valley. Also maybe a sort of unusual post about history classes at Tone’s workplace, the University of Agder, where she is the senior adviser in Humanities and Education.