Flight from the ski jump and strangling snake on the neck

Date: 15.08.2020

Day: 013

Country:
Norway

Location:
Oslo

Daily kilometers:
17 km

Total kilometers:
1658 km

Soil condition:
Asphalt

Sunrise:
05:27 pm

Sunset:
21:16

Temperature day max:
27°

Temperature day min:
16°

Departure:
2:00 pm

Arrival time:
10:00 a.m.

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

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“Let’s go to the ski museum,” I say, full of zest for action after completing my morning exercise in front of the Terra. As we spent the night right next to the ski jump, it’s not far to walk. Due to the off-season and corona, the oldest ski museum in the world, in which 4000 years of ski history are fantastically presented, is hardly visited. We feel as if the city of Oslo has opened the museum especially for us. We walk from room to room and look at skis and ski bindings that are a thousand years old. In the next room, the equipment of World Cup winners in ski jumping, cross-country skiing, Nordic combined and biathlon is on display. We learn that the first ski jumping competition was held here in January 1892 and that the Norwegian Arne Ustvedt set the hill record with 21.5 meters. Considering that the current hill record of the Norwegian Robert Johannson is 144 meters, that’s a huge increase. “How far do you think they’ll jump in 100 years? Higher, further, more. Where are the limits of what is possible? Can mankind ever be satisfied?” a thought flashes through my mind.

One floor up, we stand in front of an elevator that takes you up to the ski jump table. “Do you want to jump down into the valley on the zip wire?” asks a young man as we stand 60 meters above the ground, where ski jumpers normally plunge into the depths. The thought of flying down there with skin on my feet, without a parachute, makes my heart beat faster. Surprised to be able to experience a little adventure here unexpectedly, I look at Tanja. “Shall we?” I ask. “Absolutely,” she replies enthusiastically. “Can I hold the camera in my hand during the jump?” I ask as the person in charge clicks me into the harness. “On your own responsibility,” he replies with a smile. “Should I take the risk?” I ask myself. “You can hold on to the handle up there. When you hit the brakes at the bottom, lean back. Apart from that, you don’t have to pay attention to anything else,” are a few more instructions. “One! Two! Three!” shout the two young women directly at the ski jump table in chorus and push us off the wooden board on which we are sitting. “Juuuhuuuuuu! Juuuhuuuuuu! Juuuhuuuuuuu!” Tanja shouts enthusiastically as I film her. It’s a wild ride into the depths that reminds me a little of my skydiving days. No sooner have we experienced the brief feeling of flying than the shot on the rope is over again. “Ha, ha, ha! That was great fun,” says Tanja happily.

After our unexpected flying experience, we leave the ski jump to get a phone chip in a Seven Eleven. “Are you looking for a place to spend the night?” a jeep driver asks us as we drive along the harbor at walking pace to look for a suitable place to spend the night. “Yes, everything is parked up here. It’s not so easy to find a bay for our expedition vehicle.” “I only live a few hundred meters from here. There’s always somewhere to park a car in our street. If you like, I can drive ahead and show you the place.” “I’d be happy to,” I reply to the young man and follow him. Only minutes later, we are sneaking through a narrow residential street where cars are parked close together. “You can stand behind the Jaguar. That’s my neighbor. He’s not going anywhere today,” the friendly man instructs me. Although the road has a steep gradient at this point and is in no way suitable for an overnight stay, I switch off the engine. “I live with my two brothers and a friend in the house back there. If you like, you can take a shower at our place and relax a bit.” “We have a shower in the car,” I reply, thankfully declining. “You can also sleep with us. We have enough space.” “That’s very nice, but we also have our beds in the car.” “Why don’t you come for a drive? I think your vehicle is great. I’d love to talk to you about your trip and buy you a glass of water or a beer. Whatever you prefer.” Tanja and I look at each other and agree to accept the invitation for at least half an hour. As I still have to feed the pictures from the ski jump into the computer, write up my brief notes for the day and decide which of the many interesting museums we should visit tomorrow, I would prefer to retire to the Terra and let the day come to a quiet end. However, we are in Norway to get to know the country and its people, and this is another opportunity to do so.

“My name is Martin, by the way, this is my brother Arvis, this is my brother Guido and this handsome boy is our friend Janis,” he introduces the residents of the male household, who are all around 30 years old. “Would you like a beer?” asks Martin. “Thank you, no. I can’t leave our mobile out there. We’d roll out of bed. That means I’ll have to drive again today,” I reply, also knowing that in Norway the fines start at €520 for a blood alcohol level of 02 per mille and that I never drink alcohol when I’m behind the spreader. “A glass of water then?” asks Martin. “I’d love to,” I reply, not wanting to turn everything down. “Are you afraid of snakes?” Martin asks abruptly. “Afraid of snakes? No, why?” I ask, a little confused. “We have another roommate. Her name is Channel, she’s 1.30 meters long and three years young. Would you like to see her?” “I’d love to,” I reply, waiting to see what comes out. “This is my favorite. She’s been living with us for two years,” Martin introduces the young python and puts her around my neck. “Is a real beauty. Very rare, because she’s an albino.” “Ah, that’s why she’s so white?” “Yes, that’s absolutely right.” “Are you allowed to keep pythons indoors in Norway?” I wonder. “Not anymore, but I bought it before the law came into force.” “How long will it be?” “Oh, a good three meters. Channel is still a teenager, but she’s growing all the time,” he explains as I take the strangler off my neck and she now wraps herself around my left arm. “It’s a good thing she didn’t choke me,” I say with a smile. “It’s a good thing she didn’t bite you,” says Martin seriously. “What do you mean, pythons bite? They’re tame, aren’t they?” “Oh Channel would never bite you. She has a wonderfully balanced character. But there are many aggressive pythons, even in captivity. You have to know that these animals are not the brightest.” “How?” “Well, they’re not very intelligent. When they’re in a bad mood, they sometimes bite the hand that feeds them. But not my channel,” he says, to which Arvis, Guido and Janis laugh heartily. After I release Channel on the living room table in front of me, it crawls along in slow motion, wrapping itself around my water glass and then around Martin’s beer can. He lovingly picks her up and puts her around his neck. In the course of the conversation, Channel left his neck again and crawled over the threshold to the garden. “Is a python like that also fast?” I want to know. “Oh yes. She can be extremely fast.” “And, you’re not afraid she’ll disappear into your garden and scare the neighbors?” I say, as I notice in the corner of my eye Channel weaving her 1.30 up a bush standing by the patio door. Martin follows my gaze, shoots up in fright and grabs his snake by the tail. “You’re a bad one, you wanted to run away again,” he says, reproaching the creeper. “Has she ever escaped?” I ask. “Yes, last year in the summer. We were traveling by car and had to stop at a red light. My sweetheart had made herself comfortable in her favorite spot, my neck, when I spotted a police officer on the other side of the road. I immediately leaned back to get out of his field of vision. Channel was apparently startled and disappeared in a split second into the narrow slit between the body panel and the seatbelt.” “Did you get her out of there?” “No shit. She lived in the car for six weeks. We tried everything. I even bought a spy camera to look for Channel in all the slots in the car. No chance. I got the blueprints of my Jeep to find out where she might be living. My brothers and I had tried to lure her out with a dead mouse, which she loves to eat. It almost worked once, but after she spotted me behind the mouse, she disappeared back into her slit. I have no idea what she was living on the whole time. In desperation, I went to customs and asked the officers how to x-ray a vehicle. Of course, I hadn’t told them why I wanted to x-ray my car. One day, after 1 ½ months, it was lying on the doormat, warming itself in a ray of sunshine. Since then, I’ve taken extra good care of her,” he says, as Channel has almost reached the garden again.

“What do you actually do for a living?” I ask. “We are in the import and export business. We were born in Lithuania and have now been in Norway for nine years. I now feel more like a Norwegian than a Lithuanian. It’s a very beautiful country here. My parents emigrated 15 years ago. That’s why it was easier for us to settle here. We will be opening a new store in the next few weeks. I’m sure it will be very successful.” “What do you want to do?” “We’re going to build a smash house.” “Smash house?” I ask, because I don’t know what that means. “Well, a house where you can give free rein to your rage and destroy everything inside with a big hammer. It will be a house with mock living rooms, bedrooms or offices. You can smash all the furniture, laptops, desks and cupboards etc. in it. It’s bound to be a huge success. No one in Norway has thought about it yet. Because of the long, dark winter nights, many Norwegians are depressed. Many have money and can therefore get rid of their anger. In psychology, they say that a smash house is a good way to get rid of your aggression,” explains Martin. “Are you sure about that?” I ask doubtfully. “Absolutely. My brothers are also convinced that it will work. The best thing is that we don’t have to pay anything for the entire facility. The Norwegians throw everything away. There’s a landfill site behind the house we’ve rented. We get all the furniture and functional electronic devices there free of charge. They’re even happy when we pick up the stuff there.” “Hm, and what do you do when the things are smashed? Where do you take them then?” “Right where we got them,” he replies, laughing heartily.

Martin talks about his two-week prison sentence for drink-driving. He reports that it was a just punishment. Not because of the few beers and the drive in a parking lot, but because he wasn’t always honest in the past and did things he shouldn’t have done.

After Martin has finished his third beer, Tanja gives me a sign to leave. We thank the boys for their hospitality and say goodbye to them. “When you’ve found a better parking space, you can come back again. I hope this evening isn’t over yet,” says Martin. “We’ll see. Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow after our museum visits,” I reply, saying goodbye…