Goodbye Sweden, Hello Norway

Well, we’ve been haring around hither and yon since the last post.  The transit from Sweden to Norway was marked by very little really, so before leaving Sweden and in memory of the long line of now-extinct Saabs that we’ve owned over the years, we made a pilgrimage to the Saab Museum in Trollhattan – which is of course where they used to be made, before the car making bit was bought out by GM and then went bust.   To be honest it tended to focus more than I liked on technical aspects of the various engines that they installed in the things.  My interest in this element of the cars was remote at best so we skipped the shiny array of multi-valve whatnots and headed straight for the cars themselves, which were a wonder to behold.  I won’t bore you with any more detail, but I was delighted to find a blue version of the very first car that I ever bought.  It was a Saab 96 and mine was a hideous orange colour.

Moving further on we paused briefly to consider an aqueduct in a previously industrialised bit of somewhere Norwegian, but finding nothing of great interest, moved on.

Seeking to introduce some random weirdness into our days, we consluted and sure enough things then went satisfyingly off kilter.  First stop was a car cemetery, built up in the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s by a pair of reclusive brothers who lived in the back end of nowhere.  They had clearly tired of people entering their house:

… and when you did read the sign, this is what it looked like:

In fact, there were quite a few visitors, so very probably someone would have heard you scream.  But I doubted whether they’d do anything else, apart from run to their cars and escape.  We didn’t enter the building.  It seemed wise.  The cars were everywhere, older models that seemed to have been dumped in the aftermath of the Second World War; more recent ones that included, inexpiicably, a Ford Anglia; and everyting in between, with an understandably heavy empahsis on Volvo and Saab.  It’s difficult to give a more accurate flavour of the place but have a couple of pictures anyway.  That should save me 2,000 words of this gibberish, if the old adage is true.

Actually, this is going so well that I’m going to shove another picture in.  Here it is:

“How do you follow that? “, we asked ourselves as we headed on towards Oslo.  As always, the atlas obscura had several ready answers and we chose the Vigelund Sculpture Park in central Oslo, which was an absolute treat.  There’s nothing more I can say about the delightful sculptures so before ending this entry, I’ll shove up yet more pictures.  Let me know if you’d rather have words and I’ll see what I can do.  Meahwhile…


That’s it.  Goodnight.