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Waking up in Oslo after a cosy girly catch up involving tons of wine is quite a bitter pill to swallow. Be it because the wine consumption was excessive, because I fell asleep curled up in a ball on the couch or be it because the weather is absolutely miserable.
I must say I normally do like a good old rainy day but the infamous Scandi weather characterized by side rain mixed with snow along with the glacial winds made our sightseeing and shopping afternoon trip into survival training simulation.
That combined with a pounding headache and an overzealous friend trying to be a good girlfriend by shopping for gifts to her man ( pooo happy couples!!) pushed me straight off the edge into my own version of hell.
Hell out of which only a consistent amount of chocolate cake, a number of bad MTV reality shows and a prolongued nap managed to drag me.
I half heartedly got dressed for my once-in-a-lifetime experience of clubbing in Oslo, a bit because my nap had been cut short and was dissatisfying and a bit becuse of my deep and terrifying concern about the weather forecast. I really was worried that I would step outside and freeze on the spot, my body being recovered hundreds of years from now and shown off in a museum with a tag saying 'This is Marta, living testament of the reason for which her species has gone extinct: they did not possess the good sense to bundle up in accordance with the weather. Her discovery provided crucial information regarding her kind as we now know that changing socks daily was not in their customs, filthy pigs!' (Btw Nigel keep an eye out for a confusing package that may or may not be coming your way).
We then headed into a house party overpopulated with beautiful Norwegian girls who also turned out to be super friendly and superfun, who though discredited the popular belief that Norwegians are blonde. In actuality the girls in attendance were mostly brunettes.
THREE CHEERS FOR BRUNETTES!!
After that we headed to a popular club in downtown Oslo called Monkey Bar. The place was really cool, jammed with people making it absolutely impossible to move. I had completely lost all control on my body movement as it was almost entirely dictated by the crowd surrounding me. It was f***ing fun!! I loved it and felt a little badass, just as if I were rocking away in a moshpit at an Alice Cooper concert, the only only difference being that I am so out of the clubbing scene I absolutely didn't know any of the music, while my friend Bella commented on how the songs were ridiculously outdated. I eventually resorted to secretly shazamming all the music vowing to never feel so out of place again.
The only downside was that I'd hoped to be burning off some of the thousands of kcals accumulated during the day through the consumption of oreo cake, rocky road and Daim cake, in actuality I don't believe I was even using a single muscle, not even having to fake an effort to stand up straight, as I was actually being held up, entirely supported and transported by the moving crowd much like the feeling you get in a water park swimming in the current pool.
I must state one overwhelmingly obvious fact and I am not certain whether it is a compliment or criticism: I have never seen a community so tightly knit and focused on one common goal: getting s***faced..
The clubs and the streets were crowded with wobbly Scandi's and shaky men.
The most worrysome consideration has to be the fact that gigantic men get turned in confuse blobs not so far into the night. Crazy! Being the pseudo aggressive, negative Italian freak that I am I was on the edge of my seat the entire night kind of expecting a massive fight to break out at any moment due to the alcoholic level in the room, instead Norwegians seem to be more focused in jokingly stealing fries off your plate while in a state of heightened toxicity (true story) rather than throwing punches. PROPS TO THIS SUPERIOR RACE!!
One stranger took this friendly act a little too far and suddenly ambushed me with a sloppy suffocating hug. In the midst of a panic attack that can only be provoked by a totally unexpected sneak assault I wigged out and let my Italian freak flag fly yelling at hin and pushing him away. I admit I also was mainly worried that he was more interested in my personal belongings, such as bag, wallet and Iphone rater than in the loving contact itself but I soon concluded that my items were in place and that the loss of an empty plastic wallet and a perforated iphone really wouldn't have been all that bad. I put myself on auto-timeout for being rude to the young affectionate dude and sat myself facing the corner playing candycrush while other snacked on late night burgers.
Heading home later and taking my place on the couch for much needed naptime I had to wonder about what on earth would happen if a kind hearted Norwegian were to move to this famished wolf den that is Milan.
M. Xx
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