Oslofjorden Magic

January 15th 2023

I'm touring central Oslo this weekend. Vaguely following the guidebook, my route takes me through the inner city, which, well, is an inner city — nothing much to say here — and past the Royal Palace.
The National Theater, from where I take my train every morning, is practically right next to it, but somehow I've never noticed it before. Oh well. Not that there is too much to notice — the most interesting thing is the national guard:

The Oslo Use-It map calls them "some teenagers doing compulsory military service in funny looking uniforms", and to be honest, they do look quite young and unimposing. Even more surreal, at least if you come here with expectations of Buckingham Palace, is that half of their little houses are deserted, and virtually all of them are in deep conversation with their friends? passersby? tourists? — I can't quite tell, but they are smiling and making jokes and gesturing around.
From there it's back to the waterfront: Along a small channel and across more bridges than necessary, I find my way to the Oslo Opera.

Right in the center of the small bay here is a displaced iceberg of glass and steel — the sculpture's title hun ligger, she lies, raises more questions than it answers.

A bit to the side float several sauna boats from which steaming people in swimsuits emerge every now and then to plunge into the icy waters of the Oslo Fjord.
The opera house is stunning from all angles, but what really sells it is that you can walk up all over the roof. And it's not like it was designed to accommodate that, in an attraction sense — there are few steps, no signs or gates or railings or opening times. Just large intersecting sloped surfaces for anyone to climb. It really is just another public space, and that feels radical and satisfying. At least one guy even made the slopes part of his jogging route.
I read in my travel guide that it's something to do with not having to follow European safety regulations, and that feels like as good an argument for a EU exit as any.
I return when its dark, and for a moment the rain turns into something that's almost snow, and I'm alone on the roof and the wind carries chants from the floating sauna and I look out over Oslofjorden with its glass icebergs, and there is some magic here.