First night in Oslo

We landed at Gardermoen at four in the afternoon and were at the hotel by six, which still felt like daylight in the way only northern summers manage. Dropped the bags, walked down to the Opera House, and found the city already on its feet — locals lying on the white marble roof in shirtsleeves, cyclists threading the harbor path, a cruise ferry sliding silently into Vippetangen.

There is always a moment on the first night of a trip where you realize you’ve actually arrived — that the country is no longer something you are reading about. For us tonight that moment came on the Opera House roof, looking back at the city from the water side, watching the dusk refuse to deepen.

We will sleep, badly, and start in earnest tomorrow.