When we arrived at the coach station in Oslo we found a free map of the city and tried to locate ourselves as well as the hostel where we were staying. We walked around the station and realised it was attached to a shopping centre by a tube-like bridge. On the bridge was a homeless man staring at something alight in a can on the floor. We went into the shopping centre, hungry and looking for food. It was the same as every other shopping centre I have ever been in. It seemed we were getting strange looks from people, which I considered might be due to us being an interracial couple, or perhaps our height difference. Or perhaps the way we were dressed. I felt like a foreigner and at that moment thought poorly of the people of Norway. We exited the shopping centre and entered a train station. There was a small bookstall selling crime novels and best sellers. On a table there was a stack of books by Kjell Askildsen. I found this exciting and showed the books to my girlfriend. She said she thought that might’ve been what I was looking for. I considered buying one of them but decided I’d wait. We consulted the map again and left the station looking for the hostel.

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