The hostel was close by and we checked in paying upfront for both nights. We were served by a blond man with a ginger beard who said our room might not be ready yet, but then seemed to change his mind and showed us the room nearest the reception. There was a double bed and a single, a large window reaching up to the ceiling between them. After sorting out our luggage, my girlfriend and I had sex and then slept for five hours.

We woke up at around seven in the evening, agreeing to each other how comfortable we were. We had showers and went out to look for something to eat. It was dark now and very cold. I considered that most Norwegians probably don’t stay out for long periods of time in the winter. We walked eastward looking for food. We passed the usual chain restaurants and decided against these, not wanting to feel like the kind of tourists that just go to the same places that they’re used to in their own country. On the east side of Oslo we confessed to each other that we were both surprised how multicultural the city was. We went to a place that served falafel in pitta and chips. We sat at a table and were brought our food on polystyrene plates. On a table near us two black boys were talking in Norwegian. Suddenly one of them said something English in an American accent, perhaps from a movie, and then both started laughing.

Walking back to the hostel we crossed a river. My girlfriend and I stopped on the middle of the bridge and looked over the side. The water was frozen, but despite this there were dozens of ducks waddling about on the ice. I watched the ones that weren’t moving, it seemed plausible that a duck could freeze to death on the ice. My girlfriend said, Look, and pointed to a duck flapping its wings agitatedly. She was certain its feet were frozen to the ice.

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