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Yesterday left me gloomy. A major destination reached: Skagerrak swell and traffic crossed, fifty-mile Oslofjord navigated, central-capital berth.
Apparently all to tour the outskirts for a €200 car that wouldn’t fit its track.
I decided to get my money’s worth from museums. Already visited National Museum, Munch and Astrup Fearnley years ago, so Bygdøy’s three museums this time.
Norsk Folkemuseum was a little town within the city: houses and interiors through the ages, farm buildings to flats, shops, petrol stations and multi-storey outdoor toilets.
In the Fram Museum the real wooden polar ship of Nansen, Sverdrup and Amundsen stands inside. Go aboard, see how people travelled into so much blank map.
What affected me most was Kon-Tiki.
Grisha told me Thor Heyerdahl’s story only a month ago, on our Danish flotilla. A sea yarn allowed some implausibility. Now the raft before me.
His theory: Polynesia might have settlers from South America as well as the west. Little scientific enthusiasm. One objection: ancient vessels couldn’t cross the Pacific.
His reply went beyond ordinary debate: build a raft and test it.
Five companions, US military radios and rations, Peru’s presidential support, balsa-log raft. Callao departure in 1947, square sail, little shelter, parrot. Raroia in French Polynesia 101 days later.
A full-size Kon-Tiki reconstruction lay in the museum. Logs, tiny hut, sail. Six people for over three Pacific months, storms, sharks, problems never covered by the design.
I wanted his book for daily life more than theory. When did people predicted to die horribly stop seeing a scientific experiment and realise they simply had to get across?
An aged Heyerdahl waxwork at the end. Usually awkward things; after raft, photos and story, I stood looking for a long time at that extraordinary mixture of academic science and courageous adventure.
Back aboard Rassvet, tired and drained.
Nastya looked at me:
‘I’m fed up here. Want to get away.’
‘Leave now?’
‘Yes. Let’s.’
#passage
Apparently all to tour the outskirts for a €200 car that wouldn’t fit its track.
I decided to get my money’s worth from museums. Already visited National Museum, Munch and Astrup Fearnley years ago, so Bygdøy’s three museums this time.
Norsk Folkemuseum was a little town within the city: houses and interiors through the ages, farm buildings to flats, shops, petrol stations and multi-storey outdoor toilets.
In the Fram Museum the real wooden polar ship of Nansen, Sverdrup and Amundsen stands inside. Go aboard, see how people travelled into so much blank map.
What affected me most was Kon-Tiki.
Grisha told me Thor Heyerdahl’s story only a month ago, on our Danish flotilla. A sea yarn allowed some implausibility. Now the raft before me.
His theory: Polynesia might have settlers from South America as well as the west. Little scientific enthusiasm. One objection: ancient vessels couldn’t cross the Pacific.
His reply went beyond ordinary debate: build a raft and test it.
Five companions, US military radios and rations, Peru’s presidential support, balsa-log raft. Callao departure in 1947, square sail, little shelter, parrot. Raroia in French Polynesia 101 days later.
A full-size Kon-Tiki reconstruction lay in the museum. Logs, tiny hut, sail. Six people for over three Pacific months, storms, sharks, problems never covered by the design.
I wanted his book for daily life more than theory. When did people predicted to die horribly stop seeing a scientific experiment and realise they simply had to get across?
An aged Heyerdahl waxwork at the end. Usually awkward things; after raft, photos and story, I stood looking for a long time at that extraordinary mixture of academic science and courageous adventure.
Back aboard Rassvet, tired and drained.
Nastya looked at me:
‘I’m fed up here. Want to get away.’
‘Leave now?’
‘Yes. Let’s.’
#passage
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