An elderly couple walk through the crowd, interrupting the tableau. He crosses his arms in exaggerated annoyance and a jet of water spews from his conical tin hat, narrowly avoiding the couple, who continue walking, unaware of the part they have played.
Meanwhile, small children have wandered over from the nearby pirate-ship-playground, and chase one another through the legs of the crowd, squealing with glee when one is squirted by the mime’s well-aimed fountains.
With a smile, parents toss a few coins into the mime’s collection box, causing him to bow extravagantly and ‘leak’ a few last drops of water onto the children as they are herded away by their respective parents.
The tin man is not part of a carnival, although there is one operating fifty metres away. The mime has set up shop on Norway’s Oslo Harbour, in the relatively new shopping district of Aker Brygge, where tourists can make purchases in Euros as well as Norwegian Kroner.
The harbour seems small compared to our own Sydney Harbour, but it is lined with restaurants, shopfronts and apartment buildings, all bustling with relaxed, smiling people. Along the harbour are open-air restaurants, hot dog stands and a solitary souvenir kiosk, interspersed between items of modern sculpture; including one limbless and headless female torso reminiscent of Venus de Milo, a ghostly marble block with trapped faces pushing against their confines and a strangely phallic water feature.
Oslo’s public artwork, well-swept streets and conspicuous lack of litter indicate a city whose citizens take pride in their heritage. The people are friendly and everyone under the age of thirty-five speaks English fluently. One man, when stopped by tourists asking for directions, protested that he spoke ‘only a little English’, before proceeding to deliver remarkably detailed, accurate and grammatically-correct directions to their destination.
It’s the heat which brings out the best in the citizens, according to local singer and business owner, Benedicte Braenden-Lindahl. On the summer solstice, Oslo reached 34 degrees Celsius, an exceptionally hot day considering the city can drop to minus fifteen degrees Celsius in winter.
“Everyone’s so happy that the sun is shining for a change,” she said, gesturing to people laughing at a cafe. “There are smiles on everyone’s faces and we’re all just so happy to help people out. It’s a completely different story in winter, when people shuffle around grumbling, eyes staring only at their feet. Summer here is just wonderful, but it only lasts a few weeks.”
The summer cruises of the Oslo Fjord offer a brief but thorough overview of the city. The sapphire waves break upon industrial harbours, pleasure marinas and the shores of Bygdøy. From the Holocaust Museum to Viking ships to art galleries, the Bygdøy peninsula is further evidence of the pride and variation in Norwegian culture.
The theme of humanity runs strong in Oslo. In the Town Hall, where the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded, the city’s history is displayed in murals on the walls, from its humble beginnings as a medieval town, to the fires which destroyed the city in the early 1900s, to its involvement in World War II. One side chamber displays gifts from foreign delegates, while in the other, amongst stylised portraits of the royal family, a mural depicts over two dozen nude adults and children frolicking on a headland. In front of the Town Hall, several more nude statues hold hands on a plinth, and across the harbour a tin man dampens passers-by with well-placed jets of water.
