You can pass...

Every single stamp in my old passport was in the top right hand corner.
The hole went right through them all!!!

Living in Norway meant that I had to order my passport at the Dutch Embassy in Oslo. Which is about 2 hours away. By car, plane and train that is! But, since I had to order it in person, two weeks ago I made my way over together with Brom. It took about 5 minutes to order it and I knew it would take about 5 minutes to pick it up again as well. Until they asked me whether I wanted it sent home...

That meant however, that for the past two weeks I have been without a passport. I had thought about issuing my parents and other loved ones with the warning not to do anything silly with themselves (like getting seriously ill and such), but in the end I decided against it. You never know what people will get up to when you tell them not to do something!

However, in case of an emergency, the only thing I had to do was ring the Embassy and they would help out. As of today though, that is no longer necessary. Because today I picked up my new passport at the local supermarket (which also doubles as a post office). The photo is even worse than I thought, but there is plenty of space to put new stamps in. 

Now, where shall I go first??

Going Dutch

When I first moved to my little red wooden cottage in the Norwegian countryside, I had to get a satellite dish to be able to watch tv. The guy who came was a very friendly man who turned out to live on the same road. Not only did he live on the same road however, so did his neighbours, who happened to be Dutch. Would he be allowed to tell them that I (being Dutch as well) lived in this little cottage just here? Of course. I later learned that several other Dutch families lived close by as well. 

Last Friday it was busy in town with everybody trying to get home early so they could get their May 17th stuff in order and I decided to take another route home. Via a large shopping center. Because I had to get some last minute things as well. As I stood in this huge supermarket trying to figure out whether I would get a pin or some napkins to celebrate the upcoming day, I heard something familiar. Now, when you live abroad you quickly realise that sometimes it's tourists speaking, other times it's new natives speaking. This time it was new natives. Speaking in my own language: Dutch! 

And then, after only a few words spoken between us, he asked me where I lived. And when I told him where, she exclaimed that she knew who I was! And then I knew immediately who they were. We all lived on the same road! Sometimes the world is a big place. 

Later that evening, when I was at home, there was a knock on the door. Which is a rarity. It was the Dutch lady. They would be having a gathering at their house on Saturday evening to celebrate May 17th. Would I like to come as well? Ehm... yes! I would love to. 

The evening was great. Met some new people, amongst which the satellite installer and his wife, the vicar and his wife, a gentleman I never caught the name of (or spoke to) and another couple who were really nice as well. Most of them had seen me somewhere but couldn't quite place it (the newspaper article of a few months ago). It was a really lovely evening. 

If our buses start to look like this, I will quit!

Now, I mentioned before that the world is a big place. It can be a small one as well. Since the Dutch couple who had invited me actually hail from the place I lived in for nearly fourteen years prior to my move to Norway! I mean, as coincidences go, that is not a bad one!