[Pic: Note that in Oslo, you can apparently only cross the road if you are Frank Sinatra, or have similiar mafia-approved dress sense]Seriously, I should have seen this one coming. Abandoned in my ex-boyfriend's posh house in Oslo with no phone and nothing to eat except a giant box of Scottish porridge oats and some canned soup (which I haven't actually been able to find). My Norwegian friend Jonas skyped me (thank god for skype!) and said, "Look in the freezer - there's always a frozen pizza in any self-respecting Norwegian's freezer". Sadly, my ex is not Norwegian, and does not seem to have acquired the means of survival in Arctic temperatures. The driveway is iced over and we are in a place with no streetlights and only one store which I doubt is open this time of night. I don't intend to try to reach it. ...Besides, I don't have my 1950s mafia outfit with me so probably wouldn't be able to cross the road, ice or not.
Meanwhile he's off living it up with the lads (at least, I hope it's the lads...I know I shouldn't hope that, but I do). "I have a life you know," he would say, if he read this. Yes well, I had planned to have a life too. I think Swedish Rail -- who have cancelled my train back to Sweden and don't have much to suggest as an alternative -- should give me the last several hours of my life back along with a complimentary cup of their unique brand of super strong coffee and a sound slap on the wrist for staying at my ex-boyfriend's house in the first place. I should be at home with Miss I, leaning over the balcony in Stockholm guiltily sharing an ill-begotten cigarette and dissecting the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days apart. But no. Thanks to a giant storm that has ravaged Sweden, I'm here still. I don't think it's too much to ask for my ex to invite me, Miss Abandoned Guest, along for at least some red wine. I'd even quite happily settle for porridge if I had company.
There were telltale signs from Day 1 really. On the way here my colleague and I were so excited to be travelling first class on the train for once in our lives. There were a few indications that not all was well - I realised I'd lost my mobile phone, there was no internet on board, no credit card accepted at the kiosk (which did wonders for his diet but not for my blood sugar). And then the train stopped, we stood outside for 40 minutes in the rain waiting for a replacement bus and endured a farcical series of bus drivers who were convinced they were NOT going to Oslo. My colleague began an enchanting rendition of Singin' in the Rain to pass the time though.
Having said that, I think Oslo is fantastic. And despite the ups and downs with the ex, we did have a lovely fireside lunch yesterday overlooking the whole of Oslo (before struggling with the Frank Sinatra impersonations on the way home). Tension mounted as the girl he is seeing was blatantly unhappy with my being here, going so far as to drop a single IKEA bed over for my comfort and enjoyment. Thanks. I could maybe forgive a Swede for that on the basis of nationalism alone but a Norwegian - never. At least I have learnt that being friends with exes is bound to be doomed to failure (at least if you are an emotional person like myself who listens to too much Jarvis Cocker.)
The one piece of advice my ex has given me in the last few days which I think I will now live by, are from what I strongly suspect is a self-help book but which I think might be useful anyway.
1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don't take anything personally
3. Don't assume
4. Always do your best
However I think they should add in something about:
5. Be kind and put yourself in other people's shoes especially if their train has been cancelled and it's cold
6. Keep a frozen pizza in the fridge at all times
7. When depressed, you can't go wrong with Depeche Mode
Oh - and when travelling to Oslo, take a fedora hat and snappy tie.
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