Wednesday, July 5, 2000

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The first full day of the conference, and the day on which our talks were scheduled -- consecutively, so that we had to bring the kids to the session (normally one of us attends while the other tours the kids around). N was to attend the first session while I attended to the laundry. First, we ate breakfast, again a buffet included in the room price, and discovered that theoretical computer scientists can be almost as obstructionist as elderly tour groups. The buffet, while containing basically the same items as at Norrona, was somewhat more refined: there was bacon instead of Vienna sausage, the fresh fruit included kiwi and pineapple, and the coffee was decent. But we didn't have to stuff ourselves, as the conference included lunch. I had my fill of muesli.

My goal for the morning was to get our laundry done. The kids and I busied ourselves in our room (which had been efficiently made up while we were at breakfast) until just before ten, and then walked up to the nearby laundromat, on a somewhat neglected street between us and the neighbourhoods we had walked the day before. The establishment was set into what appeared to be either a converted ground-floor garage or a basement, presided over by a gruff matron. I had the choice of handling my own laundry in the machines for NOK 45 wash, NOK 10 dry, or paying NOK 100 to have her do it. The kids were excited to help unfold the laundry (packed for transport) and put it into the front-loading machine. When I suggested walking around; they complained; they wanted to stay and watch the wash go around behind the glass door.

After a few minutes of laundry TV, though, they let themselves be convinced to walk around the wooden houses of Bryggen lining the north waterfront. These were mostly reconstructions, though a few original houses remained, and were mostly filled with tourist boutiques. Sweaters and troll dolls were very much in evidence, as were Japanese tour groups. The sun of the day before had disappeared behind cloud, but it was not raining. We took a few pictures (the kids dashing about with the point-and-shoot autofocus cameras they had received on their last birthdays) before going back to tend our wash.

I had to put the clothes through a separate spin-dry machine before putting them in the gas dryers. The kids read the books they had brought, while I leafed through a year-old copy of the Wine Spectator that seemed to be the only English language literature in the place. Besides a motley collection of working furniture, there were some topical antiques: some mangles, washboards, and weigh scales.

We were done by eleven-thirty, and walked back to the hotel to meet N for lunch. These were normally to be held in the cafe where breakfast was served, but for some reason it was unavailable that day, and we were jammed into one of the banquetting rooms along with a middle-aged tour group who looked none too happy to see us. The buffet included salmon poached two ways in addition to the ubiquitous smoked salmon and gravlax, as well as some sliced meats, minimal salads, and some truly forgettable hot dishes in steam trays. Dessert was some platters of goop (Jello, almond bavarian, chocolate pudding, flan) but the kids were impressed by the canned fruit (particularly the sour cherries) with bowls of real whipped cream.

N informed us that there was a grand piano in the main conference hall, so after lunch we went to let the kids have a crack at it. (Sessions did not resume until two). It was old and somewhat out of tune, but a Bechstein, and the kids were happy to see it. As A was running through the Grade 5 pieces she had recently learned, one of the organizers (Jan Arne) happened by, and was impressed. "We will have entertainment provided by the attendees at the banquet -- would she be willing to play?" Their teacher had urged them to seek recital opportunities, so she was willing. When Jan Arne learned that A was even better on violin (her first instrument), he asked details of where we might obtain one for the banquet.

The session in which we both spoke was next. Of the roughly ninety attendees, perhaps half to two-thirds were present. We set the kids up at the back of the hall with books, papers on which to draw, and quiet logic games, and warned them not to make any sound at all. They didn't make a peep through four twenty-minute talks; A even listened for part of mine, and said it was "interesting".

As a reward for them, we skipped the last session of the day and walked them down to the waterfront, where we boarded a small ferry taking us out to the tip of the peninsula west of downtown, to the Bergen Aquarium. They had had plenty of experience with aquariums on two continents, but this one was unusual, acknowleding and even celebrating the use of fish as a food resource. Much of the basement was given over to displays of salmon farming, tanks of the various edible species to be found in Norwegian waters (including a halibut nearly two metres long), and even large posters of recipes done up like advertisements in gastroporn magazines. But there were also tanks of tropical fish, eels, crustacea, two large tanks with underwater viewing of seals, and one with a couple of species of penguins. We stayed until after the six o'clock feeding, which was quite low-key without any animal tricks in evidence, and then headed back down the peninsula on foot in search of dinner.

Nothing seemed too compelling -- did we dare to try Thai or Japanese food, especially at those prices? -- and we finally washed up at Holberg-Stuen, on the second floor of a building on Torgalmenningen, the main shopping street. I had filet of reindeer (which seemed to have been farmed, as it lacked the overly gamy taste I associate with most venison) served over sauteed vegetables with mushroom sauce and lingonberries, and N and the kids had poached halibut. We opted for the traditional scalloped and gratineed potatoes. Not a bad meal, but one which would have been a disappointment in Paris or San Francisco. We talked the kids out of dessert at the restaurant, limiting the damage to NOK 650. Instead, we did the "one container of ice cream, four spoons" thing in the hotel room.

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