I met a Norwegian couple tonight. One was Malaysian born. I rallied my full knowledge of things Norwegian in advance and all I could come up with was a Beatles song, fjords and Oslo sandwiches. I learnt about the sandwiches at school. They are high on the food pyramid. I think we used to call them Dagwoods.
One friend asked of them what a normal weekday cooked at home meal might be like for them. Herrings, I chipped in. No, they mostly cook Asian food at home.
The native Norwegian is a doctor and the Malaysian born Norwegian does some kind of social/poverty work. He is in Australia for a conference, after one in Botswana.
Hoho, he missed his flight from Oslo to London because his train was late. The trains are always late, he said. So much for superior European public transport.
Not only was he a quite a handsome guy, he was very friendly, had a good sense of humour and spoke excellent English. He speaks to his partner in Norwegian and he knows two languages appropriate to Malaysia.
Aren't we Australians who can stick a single word of French into a conversation and count to five quite pathetic. Quell merde.