The day my toothbrush broke

I woke up as my hosts started stirring in their morning routine, earlier than I planned but definitely within reason. Great, now I didn’t need to hurry at all for my flight later in the day. So I took my time fixing myself some breakfast, brushed my teeth and said goodbye. The younger daughter helped me find the bus to the train station, only a short walk from the house and then 10 minutes on the bus and I was at the trainstation in Oslo.

I’d found a place with the sister of a friend and her family, I needed the layover in Oslo as my flight was too early to have any chance of hitchhiking to the airport in time the same day as I was in Göteborg before. They were really kind to me, and I feel that I need to return some day to actually explore the place. I saw only a couple hours of the E6, a 30 minute walk down the southern hill into Oslo and my hosts home, and then the transit through the train station. The train station left an impression, but so did the view as I descended the hill.

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I really enjoyed travelling to Oslo the day before, first with Johan returning to Stenungsund after a morning work assignment and from there I got a ride with a cigarillo chain smoking German truck driver named Werner who I enjoyed practising my German skills with a bit as he spoke nothing else. How quickly one gets rusty, but at the same time I feel more comfortable with the German I know. I will be looking forward to my next chance to speak a little German as main communication.

As I threw my bag onto my shoulders to get going in the morning I heard a little snap, figured it might have been some packaging like my plastic water bottle complaining, turns out my toothbrush had gotten itself stuck in a bad way and one of the few solid enough edges I carry had snapped it in half.

It’s interesting how we attach memories to little things, I feel like whenever I think of this part of my journey that small event will always pop back up.

My flight left Oslo Lufthavn at 1 that afternoon. I had spent just over 20 hours in Norway on this my first visit to the country, and yet I’d spoken to at least as many people in four languages.