Yes, this is a post that begins with a reference to the ludicrous music of Lonely Island, as this accurately and truthfully represents the ludicrousness of my travel stupidity. Unlike this song, however, I am not ecstatically congratulating myself for being at sea…
It’s true. I am on a boat. A boat that goes from Copenhagen, Denmark to Oslo, Norway. After minimal research (yet still some research, I might add), I thought I had this trip sorted. Ferries go regularly to Oslo from Nordhavn, said the hostel receptionist. It’s easy, she said. Simple.
I don’t know if the Danish definition of ‘easy’ and ‘regularly’ are different to the rest of the world, but the ferry leaves twice a day. Twice. At 9.45 and 4.45. I was under the impression they would leave every half an hour, which also gave me the impression the ride over would only take a couple of hours, and cost maybe 40 euros or so.
So imagine my horror at, after trekking around a seemingly abandoned and borderline derelict area in Copenhagen for nearly an hour!?!?!?! (I place the blame not on my own idiocy at not seeing the very large ferry behind me, but solely on the very bad directions I was given by at least four different people in the street), I find that the ferry will cost nearly 170 euros. Say whaaat.
After buying the aforementioned ticket, I was told I had a private cabin. A private cabin, ha. How funny, I thought. It’s only a couple of hours across, what am I going to do in a private cabin? To anybody else, surely this would send alarm bells ringing. They would not provide you with a private cabin if you were on the boat for two hours. Duh. But nope. Not me.
So when I was contentedly eating my delicious veggie burger at a cafe nearby, thanking my continuous good luck that I didn’t miss the last ferry of the day, it’s safe to say I was pretty bummed out when one of the other SPAR reporters told me I wouldn’t be arriving in Norway until the morning, and that I was actually going to have to sleep on this ferry. I had even booked a hostel for the night in Norway.
After the Elba camping catastrophe in Italy, I really should have learned my lesson with this organisation business. And now, I am sat on a ferry which is much more of a cruise ship really, slightly disorientated and very perturbed that my Oslo plans for the night have been thwarted. Gah. I guess this is what travelling is all about. The fun never stops.