Saunas, Friendships & Nordic Community - My Week in Oslo

A friendship that stays forever

I spend the week in Oslo with my friend and her little son. Sigrid and I haven’t seen each other in eleven years. Last year, she called me out of the blue and said, “I dreamed of you. You were screaming for help.” She was one of the first people I told about what was happening behind closed doors.

Island Life: Silence, Community & Ice Cold Water

We follow a rather unusual itinerary. The day I arrive is also the hottest day of the week. We take a trip to the nearby islands. On Lindøya, we stroll around, admiring the small Nordic houses. I feel a deep longing for this kind of life—secluded from the city’s noise, surrounded by silence, no cars. Yet, there is still a sense of community, people around, and the sea right at your doorstep.

As is tradition on the islands, we stop at Gressholmen Kro on Gressholmen and eat shrimp. Sigrid even dares to jump into the ice cold water.

Sauna Culture in Oslo: Heat, Fjords & Nordic Traditions

One of the main tourist attractions is walking on the roof of the Opera house. The slope starts right at the sidewalk. We push through the icy wind blowing against us. The struggle is worth it—at the top, there’s a fantastic view of downtown Oslo, a full 360° panorama. To warm up, we visit the sauna on the opposite side of the waterfront. What an amazing culture!

Right by the fjord, there’s a small sauna village with several tiny huts. Inside, the floor wobbles slightly, giving the sensation of being on a boat—not ideal for people prone to seasickness. Through the massive windows, you can see the opera house, and after sweating it out, you jump straight into the fjord.

Then, something interesting happens.

A Stranger & A Ghost from the Past

One of the saunas is particularly hot, and Sigrid flees after a minute. I stay, pour water onto the stones to heat it up even more. Then, a handsome man with dark skin walks in. Since standing alone on the bench might look odd, I feel the need to explain myself: "Just poured water on the stones, it's really hot!" He smirks: "Are you preparing to walk on fire?" A brief exchange, then I dash outside—and suddenly, my first encounter with Lucas comes rushing back. Me, sitting alone on the highest bench in the sauna, him - handsome, dark - skinned, walking in, commenting on how I seem to tolerate heat better than cold. That’s how we met. 

What was this moment supposed to show me? That he’s not the only handsome, dark-skinned man I’ll ever meet? That even if I wanted to open up to someone, I’m still far from ready? That something can begin so easily and beautifully—only to end in complete disaster, just like it did with Lucas?

Norwegian Family Life: Adoption, Parenthood & Love Beyond Rules

This week gives me a deep insight into life in Norway. I attend a children’s birthday party at a Waldorf school—right in the middle of the forest, which also serves as their playground. A mother casually tells me that she had two children with her lesbian partner through artificial insemination after turning 40—something that is fully legal in Norway. Here, you can even adopt beyond that age.

I think of my German friend, a doctor in her mid-40s, who once told me, “I’m too old, too employed, too single, too lesbian.” In Germany, all disqualifying factors.

I wonder—how can such rules decide how much love and care someone is capable of giving a child?

At that moment, I heard a loud crying. Sigrid’s son has spilled an entire bottle of bubble solution, a birthday gift to every child,  all over his face. While his mother wipes him clean, I notice the child of the lesbian couple picking up the empty bottle. Seeing that it’s empty, he disappears for a moment, returns with a brand-new one, and hands it to his friend. On the way home, he holds his sad friend’s hand the entire time, glancing at him now and then to make sure he’s okay. I am amazed by this child. I see so much humanity, so much awareness and care for others—it nearly breaks me with emotion.

Overnight Bus Rides: Will I ever Travel Like This Again?

On my way home, I spend two nights on a bus. Since I have a fear of flying, I try to travel overland whenever possible. I remember overnight bus rides in Thailand—surprisingly comfortable, huge seats, you lay back, sleep and wake up refreshed the next morning. But this time, it feels exhausting.

I never liked when people said they were too old for something. But in this case, I have to admit: I’m too old to spend nights on a bus full of 20-year-olds. I try to curl up on the seat, barely sleep, and my body aches.

My Lessons from Oslo

That friendships can reignite, even after eleven years of silence, exactly when they’re needed most. That a single moment, a glance, or a passing comment can stir up old memories and pain. That I’m still far from ready to let someone new into my life. That there are places in the world where the well-being of others, family, and community are prioritized more than anywhere else.

And that next time, I should definitely just take the damn flight.

Be Well,

Vaselisa