Rummaging Past the Knickknacks

I sat at a picnic table under the sprawling red awnings as the rain fell in thick coils. Around me was a labyrinth of open-faced salmon sandwiches, canned caviar, and mounds of shrimp, the contours of Bergen’s fish market. Despite the weather, tourists tumbled in from their cruise ships and guesthouses, taking free samples and overpaying for their fresh Norwegian catch. As they ricocheted from vendor to vendor, their languages mingling with the flush smell of lobster and mackerel, I looked on. With my camera perched on my cheek, I was as easy bait as any tourist, that is until I met Raj.

Raj was the manager of the fish ‘n chips stand, an unassuming business that was shockingly lucrative. A simple question cast us into a long conversation, and he began to reveal the many illusions of the market. The young, cheery fisherman, dressed so convincingly in their orange trousers? They weren’t fisherman but students from abroad hoping to save money from a summer job as salesmen. The fish displayed so tantalizingly? Probably from Japan, not Norway. Raj revealed the market’s many secrets, and admonished me to seek out more than knickknacks and gimmicks in my travels. Thus, I resolved to see beyond the city of clichés and tourist tropes and discover its local cache.

For the rest of my time in Bergen, and the duration of my month-long Scandinavian excursion, I carried a pack on my back and rummaged the grooves and furrows of Norway, always trying to look harder. When I clambered out of my sleeping bag to find myself embedded in one of Norway’s most startling scenes, the Jostedal Glacier, I allowed myself to stare, and then stare even longer. Rather than staying close to towns the tour books featured, I ventured to the nape of Norway’s majestic Sognefjord to Skjolden, a village so small it whispers and so picturesque it mocks photographers. There I took solitary hikes past sheep and waterfalls. And when I arrived in Oslo, a chance encounter resulted in a local stranger becoming my host. Soon the trim-tailored city opened up as a friend’s hometown. With a little extra work, destinations became characters worth more than a superficial greeting. Museums and attractions had stories to tell beyond their plaques and brochures. And neighborhoods always had one more layer to peel back.

Countless buses, trains, ferries, campsites, and landscapes. Exhilarating whiplashes through history. Lavish lessons in kindness and open-mindedness. Throughout the 34 days of my trip, I was daily reminded of how close I came to being ensnared in the traps set for non-inquiring travelers. But one conversation challenged me to be at once an active pursuer of the subject and a willing participant in the process. When I boarded my flight home, I had a pack free of knickknacks but full of the memories that only a once-in-a-lifetime adventure can afford.