The Great Layoff Escape Day 4: Dance Lessons

We went to a wedding, outdoors, on a concrete pier. The bride arrived by boat. She wore a white dress, with fresh-picked leaves braided into her hair.

Em was the photographer.

Afterwards, at the party, when the dance music started, she stood next to me and cleared her throat.

"Would you like to dance?" I held out my hand.

"Lead the way.  Swedes are amazing dancers, see how Claus moves?"

"I don't really know how to dance like that. Why don't you show me . . ."

"The man is supposed to lead, and the woman follows. Just relax and go with it."

I remembered something akin to the Cha Cha. It kind of worked. She pretended to smile. The song changed. Em bolted for Claus, and beamed as they floated around the floor.

I hated myself for not being able to give her what she wanted.

Defeated, but too proud to show it, I joined the single and children's dance circle.

I asked her to dance the last song of the night. I tried to redeem myself.

She let go, dropped her hands, scanned the room, and took a deep breath.

She gave me three bullets. They went straight to my heart.

• "It is important for a woman to look good on the dance floor. Her partner has to be confident and move with the beat." 

• "Dancing should be like walking. If its not you're doing it wrong." 

• "Never push a girl into a turn. You simply open up and give her space. She will do the turning on her own and come back to you how and when she wants." 

Em walked me through a few steps. We moved together for the first time that night. It was relaxed, and seemed like something I could definitely work on.

The song ended. We went outside, lit candles, and lined the pathway to the getaway vehicle.

All I could think about was leaving for England the next morning. I'm sure she was thinking the same.

The Great Layoff Escape Day 3: Smoked Salmon

At 6:30 a.m. I lost all hope of sleeping in, so I put on running shorts under my blanket and grabbed a fleece. Outside, my knees ached as I passed commuters scraping Ice from car windows.

I ran to a beach lined with dark green fishing huts the size of outhouses. Not far from the huts, waves, sent to shore by a ferry (saving commuters a two hour drive around the fjord), glowed pink in the rising sun. After a climb up a pine-covered hill, and a call on a flock of crimped sheep I visited the day before, I repeated the ritual of hot shower and nap before lunch.

Em dined on potato soup, and I chose the quiche and smoked salmon accompanied by grainy toast.

Later, inside the restaurant, both of us on the internet:

"What are your plans after Norway?"

I hadn't decided yet.

"Well, I could stay in Norway and visit Rizor, the town my triple Great Grandfather is from, or I could take a week-long bicycle ride down the Danube River from Passau to Vienna,  Or,  I could always go to England to visit Chatsworth, a manor house I've been researching. . .but I hate driving in foreign counties, I left my bike helmet and poncho at home, and England just seems too easy."

Ever practical and sartorial, Em took charge.  "What clothes did you bring?"

"What I've got on, plus a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans."

"Well. . ."

She was right. I didn't have the kit for a week-long bike ride, or the coat for a trip into the Norwegian mountains.

"Go to Austria in the Summer when the weather is nice."

I changed my departure flight from Oslo to London Gatwick with a quick call to the Delta Diamond Desk, picked up a one way Ryan Air ticket from Oslo to London Stansted, and booked the Cavendish Hotel (within walking distance of Chatsworth House) for two nights on kayak.com.

It felt good to have a plan for at least the next week of my life.

The Great Layoff Escape Day 2: Jeloya Island

I never expected to be back in Norway.

I woke at 7 and went outside for a run along the beach. I retraced my steps from a year ago last June, when I dropped in for a hello between Thailand and Paris.

Jeloya was in the height of summer green then.

Melancholic, and transitional, October weighed down the grass with frost, adding a touch of color to the trees.

I passed a group of preschool children dancing around a bonfire on the beach, a few digging in sand with a bright green shovel and bucket. Full-body snowsuits, hats and mittens indicated that this wasn't a usual summer outing.

The kids didn't seem to mind.

After an hour in the cold, and with only a late lunch on the agenda, I ran back to the house, took a shower until the hot water ran out, and slipped back under my down blanket.

Before sleep, I wondered what might possibly come next.

The Great Layoff Escape Day 1: Norway

After I got laid-off from Adobe, I wanted to run away for awhile. But where to go?

Luckily with hundreds of thousands of frequent flyer points racked up from my days at XANGO and a month's severance from Adobe, I could go just about anywhere in the world.  A college friend who now lives in Norway offered some floor space via SMS, so I booked a ticket for the next day.

Her invitation had one caveat: "I'm going to an art show Wednesday night, and a wedding on Saturday, so make sure you bring a suit."

Thirty hours later, we met under the clock of Oslo Central train station and headed out into the city for a brief walk before the show.

"So how is everybody coping in the aftermath of this summer's massacre at the children's camp?" I snapped a photo of the neoclassical National Theater where Em worked a few years back.

Em shot back with a passionate reply:

"We've continued to live the open free life we are used to! We didn't throw up police barricades in front of government buildings or install metal detectors in our elementary schools like you would in the States. Just last week I walked into city hall, smiled and waved to the security guard, and went exploring. I think you saw the pictures on my blog."

We crossed the street and paused on the sidewalk in front of the Hotel Continental for a bit of free wifi.

The art show took place in a shopping center in a reclaimed industrial area reminiscent of London's or Melbourne's docklands, complete with sleek apartment buildings, chic restaurants, and views of the fjord.

We joined 300 or so people crammed into an empty retail space turned gallery for a Q&A. At the front of house stood the artists featured in the show, and the ArchBishop of Norway. I don't remember why he was there exactly other than the fact that the show had a Biblical theme.

A group of well-know photographers were tasked to find a verse in the Bible and then to use it as a springboard for their artistic expression.

The photos, mostly black and white, spun allegorical statements with provocatively posed subjects.  Our favorite was of a nude girl standing on a freshly furrowed field wearing an indian headdress.

Pizza for dinner, a stop at the news vendor's on the way back to the Oslo Central, a few cactus-flavored lozenges, and an hour's train ride to my bit of floorspace in Moss.

Once home, I promptly fell asleep under a lavender-scented duvet tucked away between a table and stacks of UK Conde Nast Traveller magazines.