Closed on Sundays

Day two of jet lag is the worst. I think my body clock is set on Mumbai time. I woke up at 4:30 a.m, pissing away most of the early morning playing computer games. At 10, I kicked myself out of the hotel room to spend four hours hiking around town, disguised as a camera-toting tourist with headphones on. (I (heart) my iPod Nano) I saw the famous landmarks like the Nidaros Cathedral, Trampe, and Vår Frue Kirke, but what I enjoyed most were the ice-packed, wharf-lined trails around the Nidelva river. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. Lots o’ sites were seen. Photos will be posted to Flickr when I return Wednesday evening, unless my camera is detonated by US customs. (juuuuust kidding.)

Our European distributor, who arranged the customer visit for tomorrow, arrived in town, just as I was contemplating a mid-afternoon nap. Once they checked in, we met in the lobby so they could walk around town and see something before we found a place eat. I was skeptical of our success, warning them I expected most Trondheim restaurants would be closed. Indeed, the only options, two non-restaurants: Burger King and a random, smokey dive bar. After a couple of miles of ice-dancing, we gave up and went back to the Radisson. Surely they’d have food. Tourists need to eat. Right?

Me: “Are any of the restaurants open?”
The concierge: (as if I had asked her to bait a fishing hook) “It’s sondag.”

We crossed the bridge to try the (Rica Nidelven) hotel restaurant. Its bar was teeming with over 100, chipper, early- twenty-somethings gathered for a club meeting, high-fiving each other for no apparent reason other than to expend excess, youthful energy. Some were glued to their telephones, working on homework. Further past the wall of bodies, we found the main restaurant was booked out. However, as soon as they filtered out, the bar would offer a full menu. Nothing met the gastronomical needs of one of the guys. I think meant he was having sticker-shock reflux at the prices.

Of the “15 restaurants” the Rica’s concierge said were “just across the bridge,” only three were actually open: a dessert place, a foofy soup store (at least we think they sold soup), and a pizza place. We chose pizza, despite several unusual combinations of ingredients like: the “Fly Away,” featuring chicken, corn, leeks and peppers; a meatball, ham, onion and herbs provence; and the “special” with minced meat (no species indicated), pineapple and the special sour cream sauce.

I went conservative, ordering the “margherita special,” cheese and sauce only. It was overcooked cheese, immeasurable sauce, and uncut, on par with an unevenly reheated frozen store pizza. Cost for our meals — two personal pizzas, a hamburger, two domestic beers and my chocolate mocha — was 620.00Kr, or about $100.

Tomorrow’s meeting is at 9a.m. Will the jet lag improve, or will I be on Kiribati-time?

[Edit: Nope, still on Mumbai time.]

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