Polar bears, walrus...

whales... Oh and... most important...

Lars, the Viking!?!

A few years ago now, the husband said to me

‘Where do you want to go for your special birthday?’

Without a second thought I said

‘The Arctic, before it melts!’

little thinking that in the intervening years that is exactly what has happened!

In order to fly up to the Arctic Circle we stayed a few days in Oslo before flying on to Svalbard to join the National Geographical research ship Endeavour.

My abiding memory of the trip isn’t the 23 polar bears, the walruses floating by on pack ice as we sat over our breakfast, out on a rib whale watching and getting up close and personal with the most amazing blue icebergs.  Oh dear me no, my fun memory is of the vision that was Lars.  

Now this may give you a mere suspicion of the sort of woman I am?  And in part you would be right... sadly.  Although I ought to say in my defence I do milk it a little!

In this wonderful old hotel smack in the centre of town, each night we would sit having a drink in the bar.  Here I ought to say before the trip the husband said

‘Whatever you do DON’T look at the prices!’

What did I then always do? Looked at the prices.  Crumbs I just wish he hadn’t said that.  For the price of a bottle of wine you could have bought a two up, two down terraced house, alright in a rundown area... but still?

Anyway, I digress.

Each evening we were served by Gunther, Oslo’s answer to Manuel in Fawlty Towers, a tad more efficient, but you get my drift?

One evening sitting across from us was what I can only describe as a frigging vision of Viking blond beauty.  Tall, hair, beard and bod rippling with sex appeal. Around his neck he had a silver chain the girth of which could have tied up the Titanic.  On this chain was the famous Mike Jagger lips the size of a lavatory seat!

All of this I just couldn’t help noticing... like you do!?!

On his lap was a guitar laid flat which he was gently strumming.  

Well, we got into conversation, after of course I had adjusted 

the drooling dribble from my chin.

What a guy, he was full of chat, a lovely, lovely man from all angles... as it were!?!

Later, we met him in the street, he seemed keen to come out for dinner, husband managed to dissuade him... can’t think why?

The next morning, as we returned to our room, he was just seeing a friend off from his Presidential  suite right next to ours.  In his caftan he looked even more the bizz! I floated towards him down the corridor on cloud nine.

‘I had a party last night, I do hope I didn’t wake you!’

‘Oh yes, I wondered what the noise was?’  I lied.

He was full of remorse, so much so I had to own up I was telling a lie.

That evening in conversation in the bar with Gunther we casually enquired about the charismatic Viking... like you do, or more accurately like I do!

‘Oh yes!’ Gunther archly replied

‘He was picked up this morning by the asylum that he had absconded from!  He is a wealthy man with sadly mental health issues!’

Oh dear!

 Back to the icebergs.

Husband did laugh at how in an instance my imaginary holiday romance was scuppered!