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Written in the third person, two College of New Jersey students studying abroad split from the rest of their group and the student population of Worcester, England to embark on a trip to Bergen, Norway. Lacking sufficient funds of krona currency and any skills in Scandinavian languages, they recount their solo experiences in the snowy fjordland.

Thursday, October 18, 2002

“What do you mean, seven countries is too many to visit in a week?” Erin angrily remarked to their European flatmates.

“We came to England to see Europe,” Lauren stubbornly said, thinking it was actually possible to take part in a personal tour of half of the continent in their university’s seven day break from classes.

Two days before departure, their naive comments were proved wrong, as they searched for cheap flights and cheaper train tickets via the Internet, and finally conceived that Europe was much vaster and more expensive than they had ever imagined.

They managed to book a lengthy train trip to northern England, where they would catch a 25-hour long ferry ride across the North Sea to Bergen, Norway. From there they hoped to hostel-hop, using Bergen as their base to further travels.

Day One: Saturday, October 19

With only the clothes on their bodies and the packs on their backs (loaded with a few travelers checks, "2-in-1" shampoo, and a stick of black eyeliner), the duo departed, leaving their flat in the darkness of the early morning to start their adventure.

Six hours of train-travel later, they arrived in Newcastle. Erin asked the first in a long line of victims where to go, what to do, and how the hell to get there. The northern English city proved to be a formidable land of marble-mouthed speech, which made directions indistinguishable.

From the garbled responses, they somehow located the right underground “tube” and found themselves in the barren harbor of northern Newcastle, with no monstrous cruise ship, let alone body of water in sight. They wandered and wandered. Aimlessly.

Before finding the water, they came across a lone shop, where they purchased their entertainment for their next 25 hours of isolation on the North Sea: two jars of peanut butter, two loaves of bread, 12 apples, an unmentionable supply of chocolate and their only bottles of clear, clean water.

They realized how far they had come from the people they had been back in Jersey, when they found themselves sitting in the midst of a busy outdoor shopping plaza, a five minute walk from the sea, eating peanut butter out of a jar with their fingers. To quench their thirst, they refilled their water bottles from the grungy bathroom of the ferry terminal, with dark-tinged water. (Lauren, from her freshman year B- in Bio said that it was probably okay to drink. So, drink it, they did.)

Once aboard the S.S. Jupiter, alone in their dorm-sized cabins, they began to realize how isolated they would be in a foreign non-English speaking country. Erin slept with dreams of Titanic-esque shipwrecks, as Lauren remained wide-eyed on the top bunk. Her ears filled with pressure as she imagined The Perfect Storm creating swells outside.

Day Two: Sunday, October 20

After the turbulent night and numerous port stops, they watched scene after scene of beautiful snowy fjords pass before their eyes, eagerly awaiting the final stop: Bergen, Norway’s second largest city. Once on land and thankful to finally be off the damn ship, they began their hostel search. One day prior to the big departure, the hostel clerk had adamantly stressed that Bus #31 from the City Centre would take them directly to their duvet-covered beds. But after they interpreted the Norwegian bus monitors, they found no mention of a bus by that number and wondered if they had somehow arrived in the wrong country. Needing directions, they put their trust in a tall Norwegian man, who led them down a dark, desolate path while insisting that he wasn’t dangerous. The two desperate Americans decided that the threat of rape or death was minute compared to not finding warm beds for the night. They made it safely to waiting taxis, which brought them to their hostel.

Once there, the girls made their way to their rooms; still holding on to handrails, feeling that the hostel would take sail into the North Sea at any moment. Erin flooded a Norwegian shower and utilized the provided giant-sized squeegee to clean up her mess, feeling like a miniature gas attendant washing the windshield of a monster truck. Since Erin used all the hot water on the bathroom floor, Lauren was forced to take an ice-cold shower straight from the seven surrounding fjords. Cleaner than before, they slept under warm duvets.

Day Three: Monday, October 21

They awoke early, ready to conquer all of Bergen’s tourist attractions. Eyeing up the complimentary Scandinavian smorgasbord, the hungry girls buried their plates, leaving the pickled fish and strange-smelling mayonnaise-like salads to the natives.

After the feast, the two departed for the City Centre and were sidetracked by displays of knitted hats that were so expensive Lauren would have had to sell Erin’s body to a hoard of hungry Norwegian trolls in order to afford one. She contemplated it, but decided she would never be able to get home without Erin’s ability to ask every Norwegian available for directions.

Having completed a full day of Bergen tourist attractions, they decided to board a cable car, which took them to the highest point of one of the snowy peaks. Erin, with height inspired tears of fear in her eyes, was convinced by Lauren that if she was brave enough to get her belly button pierced than she could manage this. On the ascent up the icy mountain, Erin pointed out all of the various ways they could meet death, much to the pleasure of an eavesdropping Scandinavian man on board. Lauren shot down every idea, sometimes with the simple answer, “If we die, we die.” It was times like those when they realized the true meaning of friendship.

After being blasted with classical music and a pre-recorded message that told the passengers how at that moment they “should be feeling the freedom of eagles, and the urge to spread their wings and fly,” they reached the top of the peak. Cold gusts of wind and waist-high snow did not stop the girls from spending an hour taking pictures and getting wind-burnt playing in the snow.

Back in the hostel that night, Lauren called down from the top bunk, “Hey, what are we going to do for the next three days?” Realizing simultaneously that their limited funds would not take them very far in the land of $14 Burger King meals, they frantically searched through timetables and schedules and finally decided to wake at 5 a.m. in an attempt to catch an earlier boat back home.

Day Four: Tuesday, October 22

Everything worked as planned until they reached the harbor and nervously peered across the bay. There was no Fjordline ship in sight. Erin, not trusting her traveled eyes, desired to investigate with the hope that the 2,000-passenger vessel was hidden behind a clamshell or a lobster. Lauren, in her cynical logic, refused. The two realized that they were stuck in Bergen for an eternity.

They opted to get out of Bergen somehow and ventured on a day trip, to the largest and boldest name on the surrounding area map. They were disappointed with the quaint, lifeless strip of road where the bus dropped them. Bored, they waited at a construction site, asking each passing vehicle if and when they were headed back to Bergen.

Day Five: Wednesday, October 23

Rain and sleet kept the two hostel-bound for a long day of drinking hot water, minus expensive tea bags and only splurging for one meal of sauce-less, season-less noodles, accompanied by the pilfered condiments of ketchup and salt.

Day Six: Thursday, October 24

Lauren abruptly awoke, spouting the words, “Oh my God, I just can’t wait to go back home to Worcester so I can talk to everybody in English. And…they’ll talk back!”

Finally on the return ship, only two nights from home, they could hardly contain their excitement. Deciding not to trade sweaters, they suited up in the same digs they had been wearing for the past week and ventured out to the Club Viking’s happy hour, expecting another boring night on the big boring boat. Sipping all their leftover krona could afford in water and Coke, the girls were approached by a group of friendly Norwegians, asking why they weren’t taking advantage of the boat’s happy hour. The flamboyant group proved to be a great way to kill nine hours of traveling time as they placed drink after drink in front of the girls. By the end of the night, they offered to purchase clothes, makeup, and a hotel room in Newcastle so they all could party again together the next day. The Americans found it ironic that after one night with these Norwegians they heard professions of love and undying allegiance to the American nation.

Day Seven: Friday, October 25

The weary travelers opted to hide in their under-sized cabin all day to avoid the infatuated Norwegian spend thrifts and their incessant knocks on their cabin door. That was, until Erin accidentally left the door ajar, allowing a stray one to get in. Luckily, it was departure time, making the goodbyes short and sweet. But still, there remained the lingering feeling that this guy might actually follow through on his plan to visit and stay with Lauren’s family in America.

Day Eight: Saturday, October 26

An early morning wake-up and a few too many trains, taxis and buses brought the girls back to the comfort of their familiar English city. As they walked the two-mile trek from the train station back to their campus, they realized that despite the fact that they were not able to fulfill their original goal of seeing all of Europe, they had their own unique adventure.