After the wonderful sightseeing tour I stayed to have a bit of a nibble in T.G.I. Fridays and wasn't impressed with the speed of service, or the price but then that's Oslo all over ha ha.
Walking back it was impossible not to spot the corner-stop-women of Oslo. For their part I found them much more conservatively dressed than their English counterparts, but more frequent, more tolerated and also, as far as I spotted, completely of a black skin tone. There is always of course the argument that I only spotted the coloured ones, but in my defence all I'm saying is that it was that group that was making itself known much easier and not the any other race. Oh and they were more sort of walking a route rather than loitering in any single particular spot.
When I got back to my hostel room I decided to try and get an early night and noticed that someone else temporarily been using my bed.
Feeling that they were less likely to turf me out or argue if I was asleep at the point of them returning, I just got ready for the morning and then laid down for a doze.
About an hour or so later a group of three Germans came in, fresh from a recent hiking expedition, and it was one of them that had been using my bunk.
After a bit of a conversation I calmly explained that I had been here for the whole weekend and that apart from the sheets being slightly dishevelled it was the same as I had left it that morning. To which their reply was that the hostel cleaner must had removed my sheets in error as when they arrived it looked like a completely empty room.
Thankfully as I had made the fortuitous decision to already be in the bed when they arrived, so regardless of the fact we were both technically in the right, it was them and not me that was having to go back down to reception at 11pm at night and try to get another set of sheets without paying for them.
The bus back to the airport left about 5 minutes before the station coffee shops opened up, and the airport restaurant did not open up until the afternoon so I was completely unable to get anything hot for breakfast before the long flight back.
Once back in England I managed to pause in Bishop Stortford to spend an hour or so with my brother in law, who together with my sister recently moved across there, having managed to find a pub just outside the station. There we supped a couple before jumping back on the train and then back to reality and an afternoon or work before home, unpacking and my own bed.
As a small point although I consider myself a rare drinker he said that my visit was the first time he had entered into a pub in his new town. Thanks mate, what a great thought to leave me with!!!
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