I AM A CHILD OF THE TROPICS. I grew up in coastal South India, just above the equator, amid lush rice fields and a brilliant burning sun. I wore T-shirts, shorts, and sandals throughout the year; closed shoes were a clammy imposition. So what was I doing on a stormy, freezing hill in December, knee-deep in snow, bundled in four layers of protective clothing and thick boots? How did I end up in Norway for Christmas, snowshoe hiking at 2,600 feet, overlooking a frigid fjord sculpted by ancient glaciers? The path that led me and my family to that snowy hill is somewhat improbable: it began with an online game called GeoGuessr. The game flashes scenes from Google Street View across a screen, and players must identify the locations. My son, aged 15, has spent too many hours playing it. As a result, he has developed an acute, somewhat bizarre, knowledge of obscure geographies. One of his specialties is Scandinavia. Late one night, he insisted we book our tickets for the coming December.
"Norway in winter is my life's dream," he said, plaintively.
What self-respecting parent could deny their child such a deeply held wish? And so we found ourselves in Oslo two days before Christmas, the city abandoned for the holidays, most shops and restaurants shuttered. We wandered its broad avenues, which were lined with mounds of packed snow, and its elegant parks, clad in sheets of ice. Near the center of town, in the old harbor area, a deserted promenade ran between frosty vistas and imposing museums and cultural buildings. The iconic sloped roof terrace of the Oslo Opera House, which swarms with tourists in warmer months, was now closed to visitors.
Cruise ships sat, as if abandoned, in the harbor, no passengers or crew in sight.
This story is from the December 2024/January 2025 (Double issue) edition of Travel+Leisure US.
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This story is from the December 2024/January 2025 (Double issue) edition of Travel+Leisure US.
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