Volcanic Ash Flight Disruption: Stranded in Oslo
Stranded Passengers in an Expensive City!
26th March 2010: A week before our cheap flight to Oslo, Norway…
I have the phone pressed to my ear, I’m eagerly waiting for
Richard to answer…
“Hello?”
“Oslo! I’ve found two return flights to Oslo for £40 each!”
“Yeah? Ok… Can you ski there?”
“Yes. I’ve done all the research! There’s a ski resort in
Oslo canlled Tryvann, and an even better one a short train ride away. Let’s book it! It’s so
cheap!”
“Ok – the dates we agreed yeah? There’s no taxes or
anything?”
“No. It’s all there! Three nights in a hotel in Oslo! I’ll text you when
it’s booked...”
Day 1
We’re walking down the hill, through Slottsparken to the city
centre, using a city map. After ten minutes we come across the large modern
train station and nearby tourist centre. We wait in line and a friendly man
calls us forward.
“Can I help?”
“Um, hi, do you know how to get to Geilo ski resort please?”
I ask.
“It is by train.” He replies in his Nordic accent. “Instead
there is Tryvann which is much nearer – just ten minutes from the city. It is
quite a long journey to Geilo but you’ll probably have more than enough time to
spare because of the volcano disrupting all the flights. You’re from the UK, no?”
“Yes, um, what volcano is that then?”
“Haven’t you heard?”
On the way back to the hotel we ponder what we have just
learnt about this random volcano eruption in Iceland disrupting flights and
whatnot. We hadn’t heard a thing! When did this happen? We must have gotten one
of the last flights out of the UK… After deciding that perhaps the man was just
exaggerating or joking, we get ready and head off to start some sightseeing.
Perhaps it was some sort of weird Norwegian humour? Confuse one bewildered
British couple per day?
Day 2
After a fantastic day getting in some last-season skiing, we
turn on the TV in the hotel room. The BBC world news tune starts. Beep. Beep.
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.
“Good evening. The civil aviation authority says it cannot
allow any flights up whatsoever until further checks have been carried out. It
is anticipated that all flights in Western European airspace will be grounded
for all of today and tomorrow.”
Not a problem, we don’t go home until Monday – who cares…
Day 3
“All European airspace remains closed and the ash cloud has
travelled further South forcing airports to ground flights as far apart as
Canada, Turkey and Russia. The crisis leaves thousands of passengers stranded
across Europe with no means to get home.”
Panicking, we ring Ryan air to find that all flights are
cancelled for the next three days. We are advised to re-book on the next
available flight and told that we cannot claim for any food or accommodation.
“We need to find a new hotel” I say to Richard “Where shall
we stay?”
We use the hotel’s internet to book the cheapest three-star
room in Oslo. We find a new hotel at the other side of the city.
Over the next two days we re-book our flight and find out it
is cancelled a number of times. In the mornings we watch the BBC world news. The
ash cloud is getting worse, spreading and growing with immense speed. Great
plumes of ash are spewing from the volcano on the news. Even more airports have
closed. We book the next two hotels and spend another day visiting museums and
the rather stunning modern opera house. What a lovely city to be stranded in,
if you can forget about your bank balance…
Day 6
“Ah - the embassy. Here, look.” I point at the map and rub my
eyes, sitting in a pile of squashy duvet. It’s too soon after waking up to peer
at the tiny map-writing. We check out of the hotel, dragging our suitcases down
the hill to wait for the bus. Sitting there like little homeless vagabonds, we
discuss what we think the Embassy will do.
“They have to do something.
Maybe they will arrange a discount for group hotel bookings?”
“I don’t think enough people are stuck are they?”
“Of course they are! It’s terrible! Just think how many
people we have come across who are stuck.”
We traipse around the streets near the embassy and eventually
find it, iron gates outside and security. After getting our bags checked, the
large doors open and reveal a small enclosed reception area. A few other people
are waiting on a sofa area accompanied by an array of bags, coats and suitcases.
“Er, hi, we are stuck in Oslo and we are from the UK,” we
timidly announce to the British lady behind the glass.
“Ok, are you in a hotel?”
“No, we were last night though. We have been booking them
online”
“Ok, well that’s really what we have been advising people to
do.”
“Ok, is there any way we can get some help with hotel costs
or anything?”
“No. You can use our phone to ring home or your airline but
there is a long wait. Would you like a cup of tea?”
PAUSE… Would we like a cup of TEA! Excellent. We can’t have a
place to stay but we can have a good brew. What else were we expecting from the
British embassy other than a cup of tea exactly? Were British embassies not
built to provide worldwide ample tea-drinking opportunities?
We wait with the other travellers to use the phone. There’s a
group of young people about our age who are from the UK. They came skiing here
just like us. We natter about our various predicaments and eventually it’s our
turn to use the phone. We stay on hold to Ryan Air for over half an hour. No
one at Ryan Air seems to have a definite answer about anything. We have no idea
if we can claim anything back from them, and all insurance companies class it
as an act of God. (Of course – why else would a volcano errupt?)
Playing it safe, we decide to try and book the cheapest
accommodation again the next night and eat at cheap restaurants, which aren’t
common in Oslo I have to say. We have no idea how long this will go on
for.
Day 7
“We can’t use the internet in there – we need a ticket.”
“Well get one then!”
“Well I don’t know how long we’ll have to wait – can’t we go
somewhere else!?”
“Oh for god’s sake, fine, let’s do it your way.”
“Oh don’t be like that.”
We find ourselves in the middle of the train station
concourse scratching our heads. The only internet café nearby is packed. After
wondering around for a few minutes we come across another one, still packed. We
pay the machine for a ticket and log in with the details provided: ERROR.
“Urgh! For god’s sake! “
“I think you have to put in that code.” A kind man next to us
said, pointing at the bottom of the ticket.
“Ah, thanks. That’s great.”
“No problem” he said. He looked down at our bags. “You’re
stranded too?”
“Yeah but I got flown to Oslo when the ash cloud wasn’t over
Norway. I’m coming from Australia and I’m trying to get back to the US.”
“Whoah! What a joke! Where are you staying?”
“At the hostel over the road, but my friend might know
someone who can let me crash on their couch, so we’ll see!”
After a few minutes the man logs off, says goodbye and wishes
us luck. His situation makes us think how near to home we actually are. We
begin researching train and bus routes home. We need to get home because of work
so we’re prepared to pay a little over the odds. After an hour or so of
searching and debating, we find that the only company who arranges coach trips
from Oslo to the UK is booked up a month in advance. Most trains are also
booked up and all very expensive, and bus routes into Denmark or Germany, then
into Paris work out more expensive than the trains.
Perhaps we could get a train to South Norway, get a ferry to
Denmark and drive the rest home? Or get a train to East Norway and get a ferry
from Bergen to Aberdeen and drive South to get home? Or get a ferry from Oslo
to Germany and drive home? Or get trains to Paris and get the Eurostar home? Or
to Paris, Germany, Denmark…. To Aberdeen? Ferry… Car… Train… Bus….?
Day 8
We email work and home to update them, then forget our
troubles for an hour or so and visit the fantastic Vigeland sculpture park in
Frogner Park again, tens of strange human sculptures seemingly going about
their daily business. The angry child is a particularly amusing sculpture.
After a little more internet searching back at the station,
we get wind that John Cleese was stuck in Oslo and has just paid a cabbie
£3,000 to drive him home. Richard decides to ring Hertz car rentals to get a
quote for renting a car.
“The whole way home?” I ask him.
“Yeah, it’s fine! Let’s see what they say.”
No quote possible, we have to speak to individual rental
stores to find out what cars are available.
Day 9
Still no planes up in the air. The ash continues to spew out
of the volcano on TV, polluting the skies for thousands of miles around. On the
news, various aviation professionals are in debate. No one seems to know what
to do, what’s going on.
After a huge varied buffet breakfast (Norwegians are renowned
for their big breakfasts) we make our way to the city centre. Queuing up at
AVIS car rentals in the train station concourse, we listen to the conversation
going on at the front of the queue. It’s a Belgian couple trying to rent a car
to drive home, and they get quoted the equivalent of £1,300… They take it!
We’ll give that one a miss I think.
We find our way to the nearest Hertz rental store and its
right by our first hotel. We go in and there is one car available. We are
quoted £1,100. It’s not worth it, is it? But we may not get home for weeks. We
decide that is a ridiculous amount of money and retire to Dolly Dimple’s pizza
restaurant.
We book our next hotel at the internet café. This one is up
in the hills on the outskirts of the city, near Tryvann ski resort where we
were to be found a few days before, unaware of the drama that would unravel… We
jump off the bus and drag our suitcases up the road and up the steps towards
the hotel. The atrium is a magnificent glass-fronted affair, with a
contemporary art piece in the centre, resembling a huge pile of snowflakes. Wow
we got a good deal here!
Richard queues up to check-in and his phone rings. It’s Hertz
and they have a car for £290. A Norwegian who was stuck in France had driven it
home to Oslo, and it needed to be driven back. I listen for snatches of his
conversation while he stands in the queue.
Richard leaves the queue to come and tell me the news…. “We’re
going HOME!” I screech, “HOME!”
We check in to the lovely hotel and catch the bus back into
town to treat ourselves to a meal in a funky Mexican restaurant. What’s another
£30 now?
Day 10
We catch the bus to the city centre again and walk to Hertz.
Yes, The car is ready. Yes, Insurance is included. Yes, we can have it for
three days. Yes, we can drive it all the way to Calais. It all just seems to be
falling into place finally.
Richard takes the driver’s seat and we head out of the
underground car park. It feels weird to think we will be going home in this
car, all the way from Oslo.
“Follow signs for Goteborg” I say. We negotiate the various
parts of the city, travelling South past the Opera house, such a familiar sight
now. We eventually pass the suburbs, speed by forests, lakes and coastline, and
find ourselves in Southern Sweden in what seems like no time at all. After
stopping for snacks and petrol we continue on our long journey.
After a few hours we pass over the immense Copenhagen bridge,
I can’t see land behind or in front – we’re on a piece of concrete in the
middle of the sea. In Denmark the speed limit is faster. The land is flat and
the journey has become decidedly more boring since we left the bridge. After a
number of hours we speed South into Germany at dusk. I must have offered to
drive at least three times but Richard soldiers on.
It’s dark, damp and late, and we decide to stop for the night
in Hamburg. I plod into the hotel rubbing my eyes, dragging my bag. Richard works
his magic and gets a discount. We find ourselves tucked up in bed before we know
it.
Day 11
Finally! The white cliffs appear and the ferry docks. We are
greeted on UK soil by the NHS handing out free bottles of water – thank you
NHS, it’s not every day you get something for free, especially not in Oslo.
We find the coach to London from Dover and after three hours
we arrive at Liverpool Street. Hunting around for a bus to Stansted, we feel so
close to home but yet so far. We join an immense queue and find ourselves on a
coach out of London by dark.
By the time we find our car at Stansted airport car park and
begin the hour and half journey home, we are tired, hungry and just a little
irritable, but pleased to be nearly home. We turn the corner into our road and
park the car. I pick my suitcase up gladly for the last (but ceremonial
hundredth) time and we climb the stairs to our apartment. Dumping the bags, we
change into clean pyjamas and flop straight into our own bed at last.
(For info on the Tryvann Ski resort, check out my Alpine Ski Resort Guide):
http://homeintime4tea.blogspot.co.uk/p/alpine-skiing-in-europe-introduction.html
Text and Images Copyright © Lise Griffiths, 2012
All Rights Reserved
Flights to Oslo, Norway. Volcanic Ash flight disruption. Skiing near Oslo, ski holiday Norway. Hotels in Oslo. Drivng from Oslo to UK.
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