Voice from Norway

When I left Norway, I dived quite seriously into British life. I’m a bit like that! I tend to get rather absorbed by the pressures of my new life, and then I don't stay in touch an awful lot with the life I left behind. That happened here as well. And that also held for the people in whose basement apartment I lived. It was Tromsø, so it was on a hill, so it had its share of windows, but I think it technically still was a basement apartment. And the family who lived upstairs were lovely! They were also very welcoming, and invited me over for dinner and such things. But I didn't much stay in touch with them after I left. I felt a bit bad about that.

Then, suddenly, I got an email from Martha, the landlady. She sent me a picture of a letter that has arrived for me. It was from the Dutch pension fund. She asked if it was important and whether she should send it on. That was very kind of her!

An exchange of messages followed. I had to dig out my Norwegian from underneath a thick layer of Welsh! But I managed. Soon she was sending me pictures from a wintry Tromsø. And all the family. She and her husband haven't changed, but the children sure have! Amongst other things; the only one who still is a child is the one that wasn't even born yet when I left. 

I sent her some pictures of my life. No fully grown children to boast of! But it was really nice to hear from her. And to get some snapshots of life as it continues in the Arctic. I had a lovely two years there. It was quite formative! It's really nice to hear from people who were there in such an important part of my life…

One of the pictures Martha sent me