Well... what can I say? I'm amused? Confused? Was he actually in the same city I've been living in for the past decade? All a bit over the top, methinks...
Anyway, here are some excerpts from the article I found particularly amusing... and my comments...
Like his fellow crewmen, he looked like a male model in a construction worker outfit.
Uh, please tell me where these model-construction workers are because I have yet to see any. The contruction workers I see are oldish, uglyish, and Polish... (and they barely speak Norwegian, let alone English)...
All of the other patrons were fit, tall, and fashionably dressed, with impossibly high cheekbones. Three-quarters of them were blond. Think for a moment of the kind of crowd you see swarming around an all-you-can-eat buffet in Las Vegas, and then imagine the extreme opposite.
Again, probably "right place at the right time" combined with the fact that the particular restaurant he visited is a bit more for the "beautiful people" rather than "your regular average Norwegian," who may not be (OK, is not) as fit and tall and fashionable and blond as the writer has seen. I wonder what he would have written had he visited, say, Asylet. Or Ivars Kro. The "typical Norwegian" does not go to Solsiden...
A glass of house white costs $12, a package of muffin mix at the supermarket $6. I even found a store that was selling dish towels—nice dish towels, but dish towels all the same—for $47. Each.
I'm not sure where he found dish towels for 47 bucks (282 NOK), but whoever is dumbass enough to pay that much for a fucking dishtowel gets what he/she deserves. Like getting ripped off. You can probably get them for 1/10th that price at IKEA, for fuck's sake... (OK - I had to look it up - you can get a dishtowel for 5 NOK at IKEA...
I don't know anything about the price of muffin mix though, as I don't buy that kind of crap, but you can actually get a glass of wine for less than 72 NOK many places.
For one thing, Norwegians don't spend all their time talking about real estate.
Has he talked to many Norwegians?
Laura and I spent our last twenty-four hours in Oslo living the ultimate Norwegian day. In the morning, we walked up and down Bygdøy Allé—the main street in an upscale part of town with the amusing name of Frogner—drooling over the storefront displays of custom kitchens. (No one does kitchens like the Scandinavians, not even the Italians.)
For lunch, we grabbed a baguette with seafood salad and smoked salmon, then walked through Frogner's leafy streets to the Artesia Spa, which was also designed by Snøhetta. Laura had a facial. I had a massage and afterward sat in the steam room (which was all white marble and right angles) before proceeding to the sauna. I poured successive ladles of water onto the hot rocks, dunked myself in the cold-water tub, and headed to the pool. It had an infinity edge, and beyond it, projected onto the wall, was a film depicting underwater life. The effect was eerie and womblike, and highly relaxing.
We continued on to Grünerløkka, which everyone had told us was the new and hip part of Oslo—until we actually got there and were informed that Grünerløkka is over and that the real action is now in Grønland.
This is the ultimate Norwegian day? That's news to me. It sounds more to me like having a posh day on the town, something that you can do in most other big cities, but, whatever...
There was a three-bedroom flat with maple floors and a clean white kitchen. That one, I thought, and pondered the joy of purchasing a home in a land where European appliances come standard.
Huh?!
Oslo is exquisitely clean and safe.
Again... huh? He wrote about Grünerløkka and Grønland, but did he really look around? Or is the amount of garbage on the streets of Oslo less than what he's used to? Perhaps he was also in Madrid recently, where the sidewalks that are used as both an ashtray and a deposit for dog shit. Anything after that must seem "clean"...
As for safety, I wonder if he and his precious Laura heard of all the violent rapes that had been going on for a while. Or about the gang wars. Probably not...