Sundays in Norway were familiar......as Mrs Whojimaflip noted ....
'I put on my hat and gloves and went to Church. It was just like in England. The English had taken over the church and were running their own services. In fact I could have been back home, except for one thing. Norwegian churches seem to be very small, having no vestyr or anterooms. The vicar came in and had to get changed by the altar, in front of us all.
Shut your eyes, Mavis - one of the tour party kept saying to her friend. She never did. I watched Mavis as she covered her face with her hand and peeked through her fingers.
After church we went for a walk. Met a woman in a camping with her family, who unbelievably came from the next door village to where I live. She brought all her food with her, as she said, otherwise it was four or five timas as expensive as back at home. Besides the bairns did not like Norwegian food anyway. They were wolfing down their baked beans and corn beef hash.
I was glad when I got back for the hotel meal, prices or no prices. It was lovely.'
The above menu was geared for British tourists. I remember as a child going to an English seaside resort and being given a bowl of soup or a choice of a glass of orange, tomato or grapefruit juice as a starter. At classier joints there would be prawn cocktail - a great dish for increasing the establishment's profits as it would come in a wine glass, three quarters full of lettuce, with a few defrosted prawns in a glutinous sauce spedily whipped up by the chef mixing mayonnaise, tomato ketchup and Worcester sauce.
Even the wine was a budget was a budget priced Bordeaux, though as Mrs Whojimaflip wrote: 'Far too expensive for us. We retired to our rooms and vrought out the remains of the duty free we had brought with us.'
Things haven't changed much in 2012.
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