Aal Aabout Aalesund

The next day, wandering round Aalesund, we kept seeing blokes who looked just like a young version of Gareth Hale, and we couldn't help but wonder exactly how many sons the chap we had met in the bar the night before actually had. Either that, or he was just a really fashionable guy who everyone in Aalesund tried to mimic.

Aalesund really is the most beautiful place, nestling in between icy deep fjords and towering snow-capped mountains. It was burnt down at the start of the 20th century (by accident,of course), leaving the townsfolk in the freezing weather with, well,er, only a huge fire to keep them warm. At the time, there was a huge depression in Norway's building industry and so all the builders piled into Aalesund. The art deco style was selected as the style in which to rebuild the whole town, resulting in the beautiful architecture we see there today. This story sounds really far-fetched now I think about it, but it made a lot of sense in the Aalesund museum.

What a comedian

....That was an exciting lead in, wasn't it? Blimey!

Sunday night we explored Alesund's local bars and, turning from the more well-to-do tourist traps of the high street, took a detour down a side street to the less-immediately-inviting but much more authentic looking "Darts and Billiards Bar".

"Yes" I thought, walking in to loud heavy metal music as several tough bearded locals turned to stare at us "This certainly has a certain je ne sais quoi". Darts stopped mid-air. Even though we were in Norway, I fully expected one of the Beardies to turn and say, in a thick West Country accent, "ere be strangers, not from these parts". But they grunted and went back to their beer.

It was a friendly enough place though; and the heavy metal music, it turned out, was part of a pleasant medley on the pub jukebox, and not part of "How to Intimdate Strangers Volume V" selected specicially by the pub landlord for "strangers in these ere parts".

Soon enough one local came over to talk to us. He looked a bit like one half of Hale and Pace. Gareth Hale, I think, not Norman Pace. I suppose Gareth Hale would be more than one half of Hale and Pace, strictly speaking, if you were doing it by body weight. Anyway, this chap didn't try and sell us any Clorets, so we safely assumed that he was not Gareth Hale.

Norway José

Just got to Norway and it's frikkin' expensive. Cold and expensive. Em and I jumped in a taxi and I then spent the next 20 minutes gazing in horror at the meter and hoping that I'd somehow got my maths wrong with the exchange rate. But, try as I might, working and reworking the complex maths time and again, I still couldn't get away from the fact that 470 Norweigian Kroner equalled 47 pounds sterling.

Gritting my teeth from more than just the sub-zero temperature, I handed over the cash to the driver and then staggered (well, walked really, but staggered sounds more macho somehow, like a tired cowboy struggling home after a hard day on the ranch or something) into the hotel. But Thor, cruel Norse God of Fate, as well as being God of Thunder (aside - Thor was more famous for this latter role, but shared the role of God of Fate with Loki, the Trickster. Thor found time to fit this in after dropping the role of God of Needlework, fearing it didn't fit his image, and besides, thought Thor, being God of Thunder sounds much cooler) - anyway, I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, Thor, cruel God of Fate, had another surprise in store for me - our hotel room had no curtains and overlooked the local pub, from which a live band was blaring their greatest hits at 200 decibels at 2 in the morning. "Curse you Thor!" I thought as I popped my ear plugs in and settled down for a hard night's sleep.

What could be in store for me tomorrow? .......