Medvedik really enjoyed the roadtrip from Stockholm to Oslo, spotting those little houses with lovely gardens, sheep, occasional elks. Norway greeted him with deep blue lakes and fjords, green fields and good roads. He stretched his legs, getting out of the bus, and followed everyone to the entrance of the hotel. He comfortably placed his furry ass in the armchair of Radisson Blu hotel, next to the fireplace and wished he had a cigar and a book of Hemingway to properly feel the atmosphere.
Next morning Medvedik looked out of the window and saw a beautiful lake surrounded by green trees and bushes. He decided to go down for a walk to wake up his appetite for breakfast. The air was so fresh and crispy that he wished he had bigger lungs to take some air with him for later. The green grass felt really wonderful under Medvedik’s paws which made him feel somehow fresher and younger than he was.
As he came down to the water, he saluted the fisherman and his dog, wishing he could stay longer to fancy some fishing himself. Medvedik closed his eyes, thinking how marvelous it would be to savour the taste of grand Norwegian salmon on his palate.
The sun was shining brightly that morning filling up Medvedik with energy and love. He wished he could stay longer, but he promised himself he would come back someday to get off on Norwegian fjords and nature.
Medvedik ran back to the hotel, had a quick breakfast, said good-bye to the fjord and started his way into the urbanistic part of Oslo.
He visited Vigellan’s park on his way where he had fun jumping from one statue to another, pretending to be a part of the scene. He went to feed the ducks and to observe the runners on the stairs, who ran up the stairs and went down on the lawn. He took a moment to rest in the sun by the fountain, counting groups of tourists coming and going. One girl from Russia even made a remark to him not to walk in the grass… but… “What the hell?” – thought Medvedik, “What is the problem with the grass?”, and contemplating about that he continued his way through the city.
That day, it was a labour day in Norway. Medvedik spotted a demonstration, which he joined immediately, because he was quite sure that the polar bear involved in a demonstration would always be a winner – no matter what the demonstration was for or against.
He jumped out at the seafront, where he had an ice cream with teenagers from Oslo, discussing some rock band unknown to him.
Medvedik grabbed a cup of coffee and a hot dog at seven-eleven and continued walking down the sunny streets of Oslo when he saw this.
He just froze for a second, then he ran as fast as he could. He found a monument of his mum. He recognized her wise face and her figure. He jumped on her and hugged her by the neck, but the next moment he realized everyone around was looking at him in a judging way. He immediately blushed and jumped off the statue. Walking away, he waved and winked to the big polar bear, saying that he will be back someday.
The early evening started to break out and Medvedik had another boat to catch. He was travelling to Denmark this time. He was quite amused by the size of the ferry, so he rushed upstairs to reserve a seat which would allow him to watch how Norwegian shores would get smaller and disappear in the sea.
Medvedik was happy that he had a chance to have a small bite of Norway, he was saying good-bye to this land of salmon and fjords, moving slowly to something, perhaps, even more exciting.
As he watched the sun going down, he still was thinking about the lonely polar bear monument in the middle of Oslo, how he would like to warm it up with his beary love and make it throw away its stone fetters. He would like to invite his big stone polar bear friend to the restaurant for a bowl of nice fish soup… Another day, another polar bear, he thought, drifting away into the after-sunset-activities.