Dave's Travel Journals
Who the Hell is Amanda Burton?
Oslo, Norway: June 13, 2000
By Dave Fox
After Oslo, we drove through Lillehammer to a place high in the mountains
called Elveseteren where we stayed at what was possibly the coolest hotel
I've ever seen. "Rosemåling" -- literally translated, "rose painting"
-- is a traditional Norwegian style of painting, normally used on decorative
plates, wooden spoons, and other household trinkets. The lodge's interior
was completely covered with rosemåling -- the doors, the phone booth
in the lobby, the bar, the electric heaters -- everything but the toilet
seats. The doors to the rooms were painted with scenes from folk tales.
Rick has been with us throughout the trip. It's be amusing to watch people
nag him for his autograph. But in remote Elveseteren, we were nearly upstaged.
Posted in the lobby was a schedule for a group calling itself "Silent
Witness," which frightened us a little. As we sat in the garden drinking
pre-dinner intoxicants, we wondered which one of us would be approached
first by a zealous evangelist. Would they knock on our doors at night
with cookies and brochures?
But "Silent Witness" was not what we thought. It was a crew
from the BBC in England, filming a TV murder mystery: A body is uncovered
in melting snow at the top of a nearby mountain.
"Amanda Burton's in it," one of the crew told us.
We all looked at him blankly.
"You know? Amanda Burton? The actress? She's here. You'll see her in a
minute."
Apparently we were supposed to be impressed. But no one had a clue who
she was. I refrained from asking if he had ever heard of Rick Steves.
We were determined to meet her though.
Rick started shouting "Hey Amanda" at every woman who walked by. Most
people ignored us. One person gave him a nasty look.
After dinner, everyone in the group disappeared to bed early, but I was
determined to find Ms. Burton. I schmoozed with the crew for a while --
50 people on a bus to film one episode of a TV program. Amanda never showed
up, and the BBC went off to a private party. They did not invite me to
come along. I felt dejected. If anybody reading this has ever heard of
Amanda Burton, please fill me in on who she is.
With half a beer left, and a roaring fire in the fireplace, I latched
on to a group from Wisconsin and Minnesota. They were there with a guy
who was attempting to be the first of two paraplegics (along with a Norwegian)
to reach the summit of Scandinavia's highest mountain. They were climbing
by pulling themselves on ropes, using sit-skis -- wheelchairs of sorts...
on skis. They had people up there with them securing the ropes, and a
Norwegian TV crew.
It was nearly midnight, and they had been slogging up the mountain since
the previous morning, camping overnight in a snowstorm. And their friends
who came to support them were getting trashed in the hotel lounge. But
at around 11:30 (at this time of year, it is fairly light out all night
long this far north), they got a call from the TV crew that they had reached
the summit.
The next day we drove from the mountains down into fjord country and took
a rainy boatride through part of Norway's longest fjord (where I started
writing this message 3 days ago). I had not been into this part of Norway
before. The beauty was almost overwhelming -- too much to absorb and acknowledge
as real.
The tour ended (gasp) in Bergen last night on Norway's west coast. I'm
back in Oslo now... heading to Drøbak in a few minutes for three
days of barbecue therapy before I fly down to Copenhagen Friday and start
all over again the next day. I am sleep deprived but healthy, and enjoying
my first hours of freedom.
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