Would you believe that Swedish men think that the Norwegian women are the most beautiful in Scandinavia, and prefer them to women of their own country? They do. Visit either in the late spring or early summer, when the university schedules allow for partying, and before everyone takes off for summer holiday. Yes, there are beautiful women here, but the problem is that the place is small. There aren’t so many as a half-a-million people in Oslo, the largest city and capital of Norway. When the colleges are having a party for example, all of the bars and discos downtown are empty. There simply aren’t enough girls to go around. As a result, Norway is more fun in the summertime when people are off and there are more foreigners visiting this country, because they provide the city with more girls to runkle. But since this country is so far North, I’m not sure your time wouldn’t be better spent in and around the Mediterranean during July and August, instead of taking the time to travel all the way up here, just to find out that all the Norwegian babes have gone South for the winter.
The places to go are private or university parties, if you know someone who can bring you. If not, there are plenty of shops, bars and clubs on the streets of off Aker Brygge and Karl Johans Gate where you can scam on the Norwegian babes. What’s even better about this street? Oslo’s largest university is just at the end of it. Alternatively, you can down to the world famous Oslo bay area on Radhusbrygge. There are lots of outdoor cafes, bars and stores there, providing ample opportunity to scam on the local booty. There are two beaches here called Huk and Strandskogen, but don’t bother going in the freezing waters and stay on shore. Try Head On located on Rosenkrantz and Kristiana on Kristian IV to have some fun come nightfall.
As I’ve discovered personally, the social scene here is incestuous, so make some friends and break into the scene by being shown around by a local. I once went to a party here that a Norwegian friend brought me to. I started drinking heavily at the party, but didn’t realize how much. Damn the metric system! Since it would have been impossible to sustain my buzz at the club with the pitiful amount of money I had in my pocket, I stuffed my shirt, my pant pockets and my jacket with about 8 beers and two bottles of wine. We wound up downtown and some bouncer was giving me grief at the door about not having proof of age. Just after he finally agreed that I could go in, he patted me on the back and felt something big and hard and got excited. “What’s that?” he asked. I told him, “No, I’m not just glad to see you” and confessed to trying to smuggle one beer into the club. I gave it to him as a peace offering, which he gladly accepted, as my drunk ass waltzed through the front door with the rest of the alcohol still stuffed in my jacket.
I continued to drink and met a hot Norwegian chick and decided to impress her with my moves on the dance floor. The only move I really remember making was the one to the bathroom to puke, and nearly pass out. I think the bar had been closed for about a half an hour, before I eventually stumbled out of the club, only to realize that both the chick and the people I was staying with were long since gone. Thinking I had gotten lucky, not sick, my friends had left for home, when they couldn’t find me at closing time. I had no money and no way to get back. I wound up sitting outside the subway station (thankfully, I still had my subway pass and a vague idea of where my hostess’ apartment was located) for about 5 or 6 hours until I caught the first train back in the morning.
God Damn Factor 8.0