Bleaker streets?

Grimstad needs a name change. Despite the best intentions of school teachers the world over, we all know that not only can you judge a book by its cover, but it’s a bloody useful time-saving device when you’re looking for something to read. Anything with a glistening knife on the cover is immediately ruled out on the grounds of outrageous cliché. Anything that resembles a hastily thrown together still-life (with apples/pears/deceased poultry) – out. And so on. If the publishers don’t have the wherewithal to find a decent cover for the book then they sure as hell won’t have stumbled across a talented author, or so my internal logic states. And what of the slim paperback that is Grimstad - it has a woeful cover.

The word “stad”, as in many other languages, means “town” in Norwegian. And "grim"? Well, it means… grim. Depressing. Dull. Harsh. Bleak. So, Bleaktown it is. Enticing, isn't it! It’s some of the worst town naming seen since the good people of Kent came up with the cheery Gravesend or the pessimists of Kentucky called a town Disappointment. It makes the morons who named Townsville in Australia look like creative genii. At least they just re-stated the obvious rather than sabotage the tourism dreams of an entire region! Grimstad, as a name, is just plain stupid.

I raise this all as I’ve just spent a lovely three days in Grimstad. It's a sweet little place situated on Norway’s south coast and I'm happy to say it isn’t the least bit grim. Nor is it depressing, dull, harsh or bleak. It may have been a bit rainy, but that was unusual as Grimstad has more days of sunshine than anywhere else in Norway. And it’s hard to complain about rain when huge bushfires burn nearby. Actually, Grimstad is rather lovely. I went down there with my friends Kristi and Margrete to stay with Margete’s family. The Sævareid’s (for it was they) were incredibly hospitable and looked after me amazingly well. I met a tonne of people – from great-uncles and grandparents down to tiny babies. Actually, hanging out with babies works rather well – a 13 month old generally speaks about as much Norwegian as I do, so I feel less guilty about my ridiculously poor language skills in their company. Takk, little ones! I also ate like a king, learned all sorts of interesting things about the region and had a very relaxing weekend.

As well as being treated to a lovely glimpse of family life in a smaller town than Oslo, I saw the town and its beautiful surrounds. I’d never been to southern Norway before, and hadn’t expected to be greeted with the huge array of lakes and forests that I saw. It was quite beautiful. I went out to a pølsefest (literally a “sausage party”!) in perhaps the most spectacular house I’ve ever seen. I saw the quaint town centre, full of whitewashed wooden buildings, and some nice bars and cafes. I saw 900 year old churches, lush forests, and sparkling lakes. Grimstad is a very nice place.