A VISIT TO THE NUTTY NORWEGIANS
- or -
HOW TO MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF IN TWENTY LANGUAGES
- or -
A TRIP UP NORTH WITH CRONOS WARCHILD
- or -
OH BEAUTIFUL NORWAY I LOVED THEE...
- or -
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF A FEMALE KIND
- or -
HOW TO MAKE A NERVOUS WRECK OUT OF YOUR BIORHYTHM
- or -
SHIT, WHAT'S THAT TOWEL DOING IN THERE?
- or -
WHERE DID ALL THOSE OSES COME FROM?
- or -
A NUTTY IMPRESSION OF A CERTAIN PART OF NORTHERN EUROPE
- or -
ON THE RUN FOR THE GREENHOUSE EFFECT
- or -
NIGHTMARE ON BJØRKEVEGEN PART XIX
- or -
INTERLUDE TO THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA NORWEGICA
- or -
A FIRST LESSON IN NORWEGIAN FOR TRAVELLERS
- or -
THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO NORWAY
- or -
ENGLISH FOR NUTTIES
by Stefan, Richard, Ronny, Lars-Erik, Torbjørn, Karl Anders,
Frøystein, Gard, Elin, Ole J., Morten, Bent, Kjetil, Bjørn,
Simen, Knis (the cat), Hanne-Mari, Anne-Grete and Bjørge
All individual people writing in this article are entirely
responsible for what they have written. No responsibility
whatsoever goes to the editorial staff of ST NEWS, unless where
they have written themselves.
You might at times be left wondering about the rather strange
setup of this article. Please remember that this article was not
only 'real time' typed, but also recorded on a walkman and later
typed out. This might result even in two stories being told at
the same time...
Part II - Thursday, December 28th 1989
Karsmakers is snoring like his life depends on it, or something
like that (or even worse). The vibrations shake the air, the
walls, and the damn stretcher I am lying on with my poor partly
The clock tells us the time....time to get out of bed and
prepare our sleepy selves for the aforementioned quest.
I have come to a violent clash with the temperature of Norwegian
water which is like liquid ice...it actually hurts at the hands!
We are about to embark upon the most perilous quest of our
lives, and Lars-Erik quietly formats a disk...
It is definitely unimaginable to grasp the flexibility of the
hoods of Ladas. We just stuffed a lot of suitcases and various
other equipment in the car, and it all fitted! But I am afraid
that the aerodynamics of the car have not greatly improved during
this tireing operation.
We just left. The road and everything else in this world is
covered with a thin, dull, white layer of ice, appearing ghostly
in the rays of the lights.
If only Miranda was here, to witness all this with me and
holding me gently...
Oslo is a chaos of detours, busted roads and all sorts of other
things that generally help in constructing traffic jams. Large
part of it is caused by those damn tunnels that they're building.
We're in the middle of Oslo at the moment.
Slowly but surely, the heavens to the east become lighter as
morning is pushing its way up. We're just to the north of Oslo's
second airport, Gardermoen (still on the E6, of course).
But we'll get there all right,
We are currently going through a large forest. There are lots of
traffic signs that warn us for the possibility of a moose
suddenly standing before you on the road. Apparently, lots of
accidents happen with these animals.
Maybe we'll see one? I haven't seen one in my life (well...apart
from in a zoo, that is).
We're driving through a rugged landscape with forests on the
hills, and scattered tips of snow on the higher tips at the
horizons. In the valleys, little villages lie. Each little house
has an even more minute Christmas tree in the garden, and that's
all the light we see until sight fades away in the distance.
Before us, hills roll in a hitherto unknown land. Forests,
forests everywhere. Now and again, another car is visible on the
road that flashes by in the morning silence.
Stefan is sleeping in the back in the car, and he looks like a
collapsed Rumanian dictator.
Morning shows herself to us in all her beauty.
Stefan wakes up!
He immediately goes back to sleep again.
All I see is little houses in the landscape. All houses are
abundantly decorated with little lighted trees, candles, and
other ornaments. Norway must be the No. 1 Christmas country in
the world (after the North Pole, of course)...
We just entered a village called Minnesund, which is
conveniently draped on a mountain side. Soon, so Lars-Erik tells
us, we will cross a river and then we'll be seeing Norway's
largest lake: Mjøsa.
We cross the river NOW and we see the lake! It looks immense
...mega...! Water everywhere!
We just entered "Test Drive" country... To the left there is
what seems to be a deep abyss with the lake in it, and to the
right there is the mountain that climbs up to unsuspected
And it's all terrifyingly interesting.
After the "Test Drive" road, we have now come upon a concrete
road coarsing through the most rugged of forests. All we see is
needles, needles....and even more enormous quantities of needles.
We have halted the car at Hamar Tourist Info, a place where you
can park in the middle of a big dark forest at an enormous
distance from even the most rudimentary forms of human
At times, we think to hear still the ancient battle cries of the
Vikings scavenging the woods for some virgins or babies to rape
or eat (in that order)...
We just went to the toilet here, and we there discovered the
world's most filthy toilet seat: The kind that, if you don't
freeze to it due to the severe cold, you will stick to it because
of the enormous loads of shit and other stuff that's stuck to it.
It nearly made my stomach turn...
What's this vaguely female shape hanging on the car, looking as
if she has fallen off a train at least four times?
While we're driving alongside a completely frozen railway track,
I experience some pain in my muscles (God knows why) and I read a
sign stating that it's 520 km to Trondheim.
We just drive the car onto a toll road, where we had to pay 15
NOKs. There is supposed to be a long bridge somewhere further
that will cross the river.
We have a desperate need to stop, since we feel a crushing urge
to get rid of some unnecessary ballast in our metabolic system.
We just crossed the lake for which we had to pay those 15 NOKs.
The minor quantity of the water that is not yet frozen is
crashing against stiff shores. The mountains ahead of us are
painted orange and red as the first rays of the rising sun fall
upon their white tops. The sun can now get up at any moment!
We see the first actual rays of the sun, and feel the delicate
rays on our aching skins.
We entered the village of Lillehammer, where in 1994 the Winter
Olympics will be held. It is now minus 9 Degrees Centigrade.
"Is the car falling apart or is the road just bad?"
Yours truly quote
Rocks alongside the road are covered with thick icy stalactites.
We have stopped in a town to the north of Lillehammer, and
just now entered a kind of big inn. It's entirely made of wood,
and will therefore cost a nice lot of dough for fire insurance, I
We are walking through what seem to be catacombs, that lead to a
major room where we can order food. There's stuffed aninmals
everywhere, including some mooses, wolves and lynxes. There are
even puppets representing trolls.
We get some cake, bread and cola. There's a nice chick
(Norwegian: Rype) serving at the counter...
We will proceed on our perilous quest now we have gotten some
food and took it all inside out bodies (ahem).
It is getting colder and colder. We are driving along the
northern shore of the river that supplies the big lake with water
from the big mountains we will undoubtedly encounter later. The
wind is blowing the snow in miniature whirlwinds over the road,
and it tears at the car.
There are sticks, vertically placed next to the road, used to
indicate where the road is when it is no longer visible due to
heavy snowfall. They are quite low (about 1 metre, I guess.
We just passed a shooting range.
"Probably for trigger happy Norwegians!"
We just bought a postcard, batteries, some fireworks and two
half litre bottles of Coke in some kind of fuel station in a hole
in the map called Ringebu.
The road is pure ice!
With open mouths, we gaze at a mountaintop entirely shrouded in
clouds. We are desperately wanting to make some pictures, but
it's impossible to stop here in the middle of the road.
We are now in the shadow of another big mountain, and passed a
town called Kvam.
We are leaving the E6 and are now heading for Stryn on road
number 15. Unfortunately, everybody seems to do the same. We're
listening to Patsy Kensitt on Lars-Erik's cassette recorder.
Stefan tells me that she's onehelluvvanicelookinbitch.
We got out of the car at a place where some kind of electronic
sign indicates which mountains passages are open (åpen) and which
are closed (stengt). We use this opportunity to enhance the Coke
a bit, and add quite a bit of Plantiac to it.
It's great. It slides through our gullets and warms up our
entire beings. Our brains are slowly being infected as alcohol
molecules find their way through our nerval synapses and liver.
Yours truly quote
"We gaan lekker, we gaan lekker!"
Yours truly quote
We do not cease to be amazed at the sights of instantly frozen
waterfalls and a frozen river equal to the Nile or even the
"We took pictures and it's cold and there's sun and.........
We're still driver alongside the same old river. Embroidered in
white sunshine, we behold the mountain top that we have to
conquer later. Sounds like a tough job.
However, there's a tunnel that goes through it, so I guess it
won't be too hard on us...
We will prevail!!
The last stop before mountain country: We halted to get fuel and
booze (well....er...actually Cola) in a town called Lom. Rumours
go that there's quite a lot of snow up at the mountains. It's
'only' 128 km to Stryn now.
In the middle of nowhere (I know it's hard to believe), we saw
the first Norwegian bicycle.
The sticks alongside the roads are getting longer...
I think we must have been above the snow border for about a
quarter of an hour now. Everywhere we see trees that are covered
with a thick, powdery substance mortals refer to as snow. Ravines
can be seen everywhere, too.
"AAAARRRGGGHHHH!!! Gargl gargl prut.."
We go completely out of our roof (that's the literal translation
of a Dutch expression) when beholding all this snow. Richard has
never seen something like this before in his life, and he is
going totally even more out of his roof (if you know what I
After loads of convincing, Lars-Erik stopped the car in the
middle of the snow alongside a road.
All we can see everywhere is snow, snow, and even more of that
typical white form of water. It is almost incomprehensably cold,
and the snow reaches up to the knees with ease. We drool and go
even beyond our roofs. Incredible. We made some great pics.
We had some more Plantiac, too.
Yours truly quote
We're approaching the first of seven tunnels we have to go
through (and indeed immediately one of the biggest). It looks
like a rabbithole in the immensity of the mountain wall. The
scenery is positively breathtaking...I am almost hyperventilating
and all I can do is cry violent cries of unbound emotion.
It's only 45 km to go now, before we reach the town of Stryn.
"Snowcapped mountains and snow filled valleys...and all
immensely galactic, parallactic....."
"And you only need a colour palette of two colours to reproduce
this on the ST: $777 and $000!"
Yours truly quote
We are now in the middle of a tunnel. We don't need much
imagination to hear the mountain sigh and moan.
In the middle of this tunnel (like in all bigger ones, so Lars-
Erik told us), there is a door. Yes. A door. A door that you can
simply close by means of ...of....of a door, really. These doors
are for the purpose of keeping out draughts and avalanches, and
they can be closed and opened (which is kinda usual with doors).
Endless voids of of nothing can be seen ahead and behind us.
Lars-Erik told us that a friend of his had been locked in one of
these tunnels once - for six hours - when there was a severe
We have just come out of the tunnel and all we see is mountains.
"Mountains, mountains, everywhere...and all the car did cool....
mountains, mountains, everywhere...and I feel a mere fool! No
Slightly modified Iron Maiden quote
Bright light hits our eyes...
The light has vanished again, for we have entered a 3600 metre
long tunnel. Bare rocks are everywhere in this tunnel. Probably,
it's one of those explosion-after-explosion tunnels.
All I can see
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in this tunnel
Body my holding tunnel..."
Modified Metallica quote
Outside the tunnel, the sticks alongside the road were already
getting higher and higher...
We look upon a valley the likes of which would properly fit into
a fantasy fiction drawing in some kind of excellent fantasy
fiction novel. It's breathtaking beyond lungs, breath, or air.
When leaving the tunnel and beholding that beautiful valley, we
went totally berzerk, left the car and ultimately freaked out,
making some minddeafening pictures.
This is absurd, really totally out of this world!
Lights pop up in the valley, signalling the entrance of the
night, gathering upon us. We're getting slightly tired, too,
actually. Lars-Erik estimates that we'll have another two or
three hours of driving ahead of us.
We arrived in Stryn. We're still tired, and Stefan sleeps. I am
A certain pain is manifesting itself in the upper part of my
cranium. It seems to bounce to and fro between my eardrums, and
it is gaining power by every minute.
In the distance, we behold a white mountain top. This will be
the last major obstacle before we will get to....Ørsta!
I am hungry and I have a skullobliterating headache (in a very
eldritch way). And the heating of this car is certainly
We are now driving through Hornidal (the valley of the h.rny
people, when translated from Dutch).
After we flew almost out of a corner in the road, we took
another sip of Vieux.
Yours truly quote
The road is now only about two metres wide, and it is getting
narrower and narrower. The gorgeous brown fluid glides down our
throat once more.
We're now driving alongside Hornidal lake. The road is very bad
indeed, and we keep bouncing up and down in the car. There are
loads of inverted ravines here.
The mountains scroll past us in multi-scrollo-smelli-parallacto-
"MY HEADACHE HAS VANISHED!!"
Yours truly quote
We soon notice that most of the water here is green (fjords,
lakes, everything...). We think that this is due to the fact that
all Norwegians wash their hankies in the water...
We just went through a tunnel in which mineral water was
dripping from the ceiling. The stuff that you normally pay
excessive amounts of money for in a supermarket is now dripping
onto/from our windshield into nothingness...
we just passed a phonebooth and an Austefjord sign - that's the
town where one of the Nutty Norwegians (Frøystein) lives. It is
still 37 km away, and it will take another hour from here to get
to the ferry.
What's that vaguely female shape there, hanging on that bridge
and looking like she has fallen from a train at least four times
(and from a car one time)?
We paused for a while, seeking to stretch our tired and cramped
legs. There's snow here, but the temperature is nice and soft (I
guess it must be even above zero - Centigrade, that is). We
discovered some enormous footsteps in the snow, with a diameter
of four walkman lenghts (that's about 40 cm!). The steps are as
big as a normal man's split.
We fear that the sounds we hear arising from the forest are
those of trolls, goblins, and other similar scum, seeking to raid
But we defy our fears and do pee-pee.
We just thought to hear something concerning Ørsta on the radio.
In our minds, visions of an enormous party build up. An enormous
party where the three main guests, an Osloian and two Dutchies,
are missing. The guests are getting nervous - especially two
small ones called Gard and Frøykid who are desperately awaiting
toy gifts from Amsterdam Airport's Tax Free zone.
The darkness is now almost complete. The mountains are barely
visible as pitchblack outlines against a dark blue winter sky.
Some mountains can vaguely be seen to be tipped with snow.
Richard question: "Is this a fjord, or is this a lake?"
Lars-Erik answer: "I think so."
Signs of human civilisation are getting back. We're entering a
town with few scattered houses, grouped around a fjord or lake (I
think so). There are strangely shaped trees here, formed like
brooms or somethun'.
We are driving alongside the Austefjord. I can feel it on my
water, and I feel strange feelings in my stomach. We're getting
"And my haemmorrhages start pulsating! Ha!"
After ten minutes of ferry and another ten minutes driving
(well...it could have been slightly more), we have arrived at
Bjørkevegen 19, Ronny's place (at least, his parents').
WE HAVE ARRIVED!
YELL! REJOICE! THE NORWAY QUEST HAS OFFICIALLY STARTED!!
Some of the people present in his place were Karl Anders Oygard,
Ronny (of course), Gard Eggesbø Abrahamsen, Simen something, and
Elin Hatlemark (that's Ronny's kid sister).
Also present in the house are dogs. There's dogs everywhere.
They must have at least eight of those small things, and several
big Golden Retrievers.
The house is totally detached, built of wood (by Ronny's dad,
who is a carpenter), and the kiddy rooms are downstairs (so also
Ronny's room). Ronny's room is a typical post-teenager-room, with
a Lamborghini-and a Bruce Willis-poster, a bed, a computer desk,
a small TV, and a framed set of two pictures that we made when we
visited TEX in Germany (March 1989). A nice tower of audio
equipment is located conveniently near the window, together with
some splendidly sounding Jamo speakers. Of course, there's a
large "Print Master" banner of "ST Klubben" hanging on the wall.
The house is built at one of the highest points of Ørsta, and
the view must be breathtaking, provided that is isn't dark (which
it, however, turns out to be at the moment).
Oh yes. I forgot to tell you.
Just like most houses and hotels in England (and the new Thalion
office), the Hatlemark residence is equipped with a wet-your-ass
What am I supposed to say?
Back from a fast Video Backbringing Quest in Downtown Ørsta.
Ronny surely drives a lot better than Lars-Erik (at least
ToRbjørn is now also here, which we discovered shortly after we
Richard did it again.
He drunk Plantiac to such an extend that he totally smashed a
glass and severely cut himself in the process. We're getting
there all right...
I am slowly recouping from the violence I have been through
during the last quarter of an hour. The glass has all been
cleaned off the carpet (I think), and at the moment we're
actually waiting for the camper to arrive. Ronny's parents seem
to have taken the thing away for the moment, and we're supposed
to be sleeping in it for the next six (I think) nights.
I am already feeling slightly tired again, due to all the things
that have happened today.
Maybe I also suffer a Lada-lag (the Russian version of jet-lag)?
And I think I am drunk, too.
I am definitely drunk.
Still feeling dizzy. Gard (The Mutant Microbe) is copying some
stuff on my disks, including seven VIRUS-sources (!) that he
wrote. The Blues Brothers are taking care of the necessary audio
We're about to finish this firtst night in Ørsta. We would like
to say goodbye for tonight.
We have retreated into the aforemeant camper, which is called
"Kennel Zitka" (6150 Ørsta, tel. 070/66462). There's running
water in it as well as a portable heater that we'll surely
be needing in spite of the fact that it's a mere minus 1 degree
It seems that we're stuck with Lars-Erik and Gard in that same
camper. So it will be TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE!!
Ready to go to sleep. The sleeping bags are installed, and
Stefan and myself have to sleep in the same 'bed'. We will sleep
with head by foot (if you get my drift), since we'll otherwise be
sighing down each other's necks the whole night.
Also, since I am used to sleep next to a certain girl, I might
involuntarily do something that will wreck my friendship with
The whole camper moves to and fro when only ONE person dares to
move a bit.
We thought we were gonna sleep, but then Gard actually dropped
in (he would turn out to make a habit of going to bed late and
leaving it early). He is at the moment ejaculating nose-spray all
The airconditioner (the heater, in other words) is making more
noise than we thought, and Lars-Erik is listening to the radio.
Is this where we have to sleep for the next week? This is
terrible. And the worst thing is that we do this entirely
voluntarily: It's our holiday!
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.