The Munch museum and more.

My flight back to Oslo doesn’t leave until late in the afternoon.

I’m happy for the extra time I’ve given myself in Helsinki and take the opportunity to visit St. John's Church, just down the street from the hotel. I had walked past the church on my first day in the city, but hadn’t given myself the time step inside. With the morning free I decide to make the effort.

The largest stone church in Finland by seating capacity, St. John’s was built between 1888 and 1891, the third Lutheran church in Helsinki. It stands on a hill that had been a place for Midsummer bonfires for centuries. In fact, Midsummer is also known as “John’s Day” in Finnish.

Inside, it’s a warm space, the light from the windows cast entire interior in deep browns and creams. A couple had entered the church with me but I don’t see them and I have the pleasant feeling of being alone in this grand space.

With more time to spend in town, I stop by a coffee shop on the way back to the hotel. I order a flat white and a croissant and take my breakfast outside. There’s a woman talking to a man on a computer on the patio before me about ideas for a business, but they sound shaky at best.

I pick up my bags from the hotel and walk to the train station. It’s another beautiful day, though the clouds threaten to turn dark. At the airport, I linger by the gate, waiting for the flight to arrive, watching as the clouds thicken.

The next day in Oslo I schedule an eye exam. I’ve damaged the coating on my glasses in the sauna and I can’t see well out of them.

I’m also between insurance and imagine that if I have to pay out of pocket, it may be less expensive in Europe than back in the States. The optometrist is thorough and pleasant and writes me a new prescription. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time left in the city to get it filled. And so I’ll have to make do with my backup pair of glasses until I find myself once again paused long enough to have a new pair made.

The eyeglass shop is right across from the Jernbanetorget, a major transport hub in the city. The central train station is just behind the mall that faces the square; trams and buses run continuously past the platforms, a constant stream of passengers alighting.

The Opera House is close by and I pass it on my way to the Munch Museum. I walk on the plaza by the water, circumambulating the white structure along the ground floor. In the far corner I pass the costume shop. Small-scale models of some of the more iconic costumes adorn the windows. There are tours of the opera house offered, but I’d rather see a production; unfortunately, I’m in Oslo at the wrong time to see a show.

Tickets to the Munch Museum are timed. I buy a ticket for the next available entrance, which is about an hour away. It’s not the most pleasant day for a stroll and I consider taking a coffee in the museum café. There’s a line and I’m curious what snacks are on offer and peek through the people at the treats on display, thrilled to see Scream cookies featured near the cash register.

The cafe is a little loud and I don’t feel much like waiting in line and so I head back outside to walk along the docks. I stroll the area around the museum, admiring the architecture of the building and the large sculpture on Inger Munch Pier. The Mother sits amidst a flower meadow based on seeds collected in the inner Oslofjord. Created by Tracey Emin she has said this, her largest work to date,

“…sits like a Sphinx. Waiting for the tide. Looking out to sea, protecting the home of Munch. Her legs open towards the Fjord. She is welcoming all of nature. She is the companion of the Ghost of Munch.”

Inside, I start at the base and work my way up. There’s lines to enter the main Munch exhibition space. The museum houses three versions of his most famous work, The Scream: a painting, a lithograph, and a crayon on cardboard drawing. Due to the fragility of the work, only one is displayed at a time, rotating between the three in a room dedicated to the works of art.

There’s an issue with the mechanism that displays them and we’re encouraged to return later. I head up to the top floor for the views of the city and then work my way back down.

When I first enter the galleries the lithograph is being displayed. I take my time in the room; there are few people who are as interested in this version and I’m there towards the end of the display time.

I walk around the rest of the gallery to see more of Munch’s work, surprised at how much I haven’t known about his work. Checking the time I decide to head back to see if I can see another version of The Scream. The room is packed, with people initially standing before different options. I’m lucky and am standing before the work when it’s revealed. I look upon it for a moment before making way for others.

I enjoy the rest of the museum, gazing upon his large scale works in a room dedicated to them and exploring a interactive gallery where “Munch's home at Ekely is brought back to life.”

On the tenth floor I stop once again to admire the building and the surrounding skyscrapers. A exhibition of Kiyoshi Yamamoto’s work, You Are What You Is, spills out of the gallery and into the space before it.

Inside, colorful drapes move as if performing before a raised mound upon which children and adults climb and lay upon.

On the 9th floor, the museum hosts an exhibition of Kerstin Brätsch’s work, MƎTAATEM. It’s an immersive space, challenging us to define what a painting is and what its potential limits are.

The next day I’ve booked a coffee tasting and roastery tour at Tim Wendelboe. I’ve never done a coffee cupping class before and I’m excited to be doing it with a place that is so precise and takes such pride in their product.

Fortunately, I double-check the address before I leave the apartment; I think the class is at the cafe itself; it turns out that the roastery is in a different part of town, and I adjust my schedule accordingly. Thankfully, the time it’ll take to reach the roastery isn’t much longer than to walk to the cafe.

The class is fantastic. We’re offered five different coffees to try and offered techniques to help us identify the aromas and flavors. Our teacher is great, infecting us with her joy and excitement.

After the class she takes us downstairs to show us the roaster, explaining how it’s done and the precision with which they do the roasting. The equipment and space is pristine. It’s difficult to imagine how they fit as many people in the space as needed to do the roasting, testing, and bagging. It’d be interesting to see a video of the process underway.

I’m tempted to buy some coffee to bring home, but I don’t feel like carrying the weight. During the class I met a couple from San Francisco; he has family in Norway and they visit when they can. They catch me outside and ask if I’d be interested in joining them for a drink.

We walk to HIMKOK, a cocktail bar and distillery near the center of town. It’s a cool space and he’s eager to try the spirits distilled with cloudberry. Bjørn tells me that they used to forage for it and his mother would store jars of it, making jam and preserves. If you were lucky, she’d gift you with some.

From there we head to SVANEN, another highly-ranked cocktail bar in the city. It’s their last day and they’ve spent most of their trip visiting family in the countryside; they want to go back and hit their usual haunts before they head out.

It’s a great way to wrap up my time in Oslo. I’m soon to be leaving for Bergen, and it’s fun bar hopping with some fellow travelers. I end up having a drink with Carmen the next day when Bjørn is with his sister. We meet on the roof of the Sommerro hotel. The day can’t decide whether it’ll be nice or rain, and we move outside when it looks like the rain will hold, drinking sparkling wine while what sun there is reflects off of the swells in the sea. 🇳🇴