Hello from Sand, Norway. I am sitting at a little picnic table. A few feet away a little boy is learning to cast his hook into the sea. It is Sunday and the bakery is closed.
So Norway.
The scenery. My goodness. I was expecting some pretty sweet views -- Norway delivered. Over near Oslo, it was one cute house after another in richly farmed fields. I was surprised at how many grain houses there are -- little houses on stilts. They reminded me of the rice houses in Madagascar, only cuter, with fresh coats of paint.
We went up over a mountain pass. It was windy and barren, and the rocks were covered in lichen.
Then we dipped into fjord country. I guess it's all fjord country, but we saw the biggest, longest fjord. It seems that every turn of the road (or boatride, as the case may be) reveals a whole new spectacular view that balances "stunning" with "adorable". Oh, and did I mention the waterfalls? Yeah, Norway has waterfalls. Lots of 'em. The braided gushing ones. The high-cliff tendril ones that get swept away in the wind and then cascade down the cliff. The nestled-in-a-valley ones. Mother Nature didn't mess around when she worked on this part of the planet.
In that sense, it seems strange that most emigrants went to... WISCONSIN. I guess the grass is always greener.
Anyways, we then went to this coastal town, Bergen. Bergen is a fishing port. We went down to the fish market, loaded with tourists, salmon, and crabs (and smelly dumpsters).
They, we took a little train (a "funicular") that goes up a really steep hill to view the entire region. Not only was the view spectacular, but the trash cans had built-in ash trays (pictured below). (Side note: there is a strong correlation between benches, trash cans, and ash trays.)
This is a pretty typical "Meredith shot".
Then, we meandered down the streets and wooded paths to town where we splurged on an ice cream. I even found some potential relatives!
That evening, we went even further out to the coast and caught a ferry south. This, quite possibly, was the most spectacular ferry ride I have ever taken. Time of day had to do with it: sunset. Trash had to do with it: the ferry had recycling. The lunar cycle had to do with it: an almost-full moon was on the rise.
We gulped in the scenery -- rocky islands, pine trees, and little summer houses with boat docks. We camped next to the lapping water that night, and took an invigorating swim the next morning (very brisk; very refreshing; very salty).
So now we've come to a little town called Sand. My friend's family has a farmhouse here and generously offered it to us. Thank you, Endre (and Family!). (By the way, Sand not only has interesting recycling containers, pictured below, but the hotel has been composting for more than two years.)
My research (a generous term) has been proceeding. I have primarily focused on taking pictures (heh -- "focused" "pictures") of all things related to trash. Dumpsters. Trash cans. Recycling cans. Signage. I have not done as many interviews as I expected, but it is rather strange for me to jump into someone's space and start asking them about their trash habits. I am thinking that the places where I have an inside scoop (Germany), I'll be able to get a little more cozy with the locals.
Since one of the stipulations of the fellowship I got calls for a "deep love of beauty", I figured I'd close with this pretty shot of a wooden boat at sunset.
The next morning I run up the hill for a closer look. Sure enough, it's the local landfill for the little town, Komiza. Not only that, there's another visitor.
Whenever he is early for work, he drives up to the dump to "see if there's anything interesting." He says that winter and spring are the "best trash seasons" because there are more interesting pieces of furniture and old tools from spring cleanings. 
My ultimate objective, to eat a danish (with a lowercase "d") was achieved on this street corner. Note the trash can and the bikes!
We then went to Preikestolen, also known as Pulpit Rock. It was about an hour-and-a-half walk up a well-cared for path. I wasn't expecting such pretty scenery on the climb. Marty snapped this photo of me on the actual rock, which is a 25 meter x 25 meter slab of granite that has a sheer drop off. I did do a headstand, but no too close to the edge.
On the way down, we watched the moon rise in the east.
We then took a little detour to a fishing town called Farsund. I was on a mission to find out any additional information about my great uncle, Gabriel (or Frank) Samuelsen, who rowed across the Atlantic with his buddy, George Harbo, in 1896. There's a song about them. There's a book about them. They are written up in Wikipedia. I wanted more.
In wandering around Farsund, the original home of Samuelsen before he went to New Jersey, I went up to the graveyard. I found a Samuelsen and a few Sorensens. Relatives? Perhaps. Regardless, it was neat to ponder what I would be like if I had grown up in Farsund, Norway.
And so our journey in Norway came to a close in a campsite just east of Kristiansand. We took the ferry south to Hirtshals, Denmark, and drove down to Copenhagen. More on Denmark in a bit.
The scenery. My goodness. I was expecting some pretty sweet views -- Norway delivered. Over near Oslo, it was one cute house after another in richly farmed fields. I was surprised at how many grain houses there are -- little houses on stilts. They reminded me of the rice houses in Madagascar, only cuter, with fresh coats of paint.
They, we took a little train (a "funicular") that goes up a really steep hill to view the entire region. Not only was the view spectacular, but the trash cans had built-in ash trays (pictured below). (Side note: there is a strong correlation between benches, trash cans, and ash trays.)
This is a pretty typical "Meredith shot".
Then, we meandered down the streets and wooded paths to town where we splurged on an ice cream. I even found some potential relatives!
That evening, we went even further out to the coast and caught a ferry south. This, quite possibly, was the most spectacular ferry ride I have ever taken. Time of day had to do with it: sunset. Trash had to do with it: the ferry had recycling. The lunar cycle had to do with it: an almost-full moon was on the rise.
We gulped in the scenery -- rocky islands, pine trees, and little summer houses with boat docks. We camped next to the lapping water that night, and took an invigorating swim the next morning (very brisk; very refreshing; very salty).
So now we've come to a little town called Sand. My friend's family has a farmhouse here and generously offered it to us. Thank you, Endre (and Family!). (By the way, Sand not only has interesting recycling containers, pictured below, but the hotel has been composting for more than two years.)
My research (a generous term) has been proceeding. I have primarily focused on taking pictures (heh -- "focused" "pictures") of all things related to trash. Dumpsters. Trash cans. Recycling cans. Signage. I have not done as many interviews as I expected, but it is rather strange for me to jump into someone's space and start asking them about their trash habits. I am thinking that the places where I have an inside scoop (Germany), I'll be able to get a little more cozy with the locals.
Our amazingly polite guide (especially given our late arrival), Arild Snekkerhaugen, actually jumped in the paper dumpster and pulled out a box. It was stuffed with plastic bags and an electronic cord. He said that people have trouble separating materials. The center requires constant supervision.
This is another shot of the circle of dumpsters. If you click on it, you can see the signs that go around the circle.
We then walked over to Oras' cutting edge composting facility, which is slated to open test operations in two weeks. It is Norway's first commercial composter with technology developed in Finland. I was really surprised to learn this; I was under the impression that Norway had a very advanced composting system. What I have heard thus far is that most of the organic waste in Norway currently goes to waste-to-energy plants.
Thank you, Arild! Best of luck as you continue to expand your operations.
