Always dance in Oslo, and other travel tips

Ever wondered if you were claustrophobic? I’ve got the perfect test: Book multiple flights with connections and layovers and see if the tight, cramped seats drive you insane.

This is what I had to deal with for 32 hours on my trip to Norway. It was the first vacation I took on my own. It wasn’t completely horrible. Countries passed underneath the plane, places like England and Finland, and I liked the idea of being a temporary tourist, even if I was 30,000 feet in the air.

Each airport I landed at seemed more fantastical than the last, but there’s only so much magic that can be infused into an airport.

But it was my final destination that was truly soul-lifting. As I stepped off the subway and into the city of Oslo, any claustrophobic feelings were replaced with the feeling of freedom.

In Oslo, I had no expectations, no responsibilities on my shoulders, and no one to answer to but myself. I could do whatever I wanted in the eight days I would be there.

Some might see that amount of freedom as paralyzing, but I saw only opportunity. In the spirit of the bronze tiger statue that greeted me outside Oslo Central Station, I was free to roam.

The days flew by. I checked out the Royal Palace (a place my local friend called the royal family’s “summer home”). I stood in the massive courtyard next to the obligatory royal statue, a royal person riding a regal horse, but I also did ordinary things. I watched movies on my laptop with my friend when the rain kept us inside.

That was the beauty of each day’s agenda. It changed as my will did. It was a refreshing amount of control.

Did I want sushi from the sushi house just a couple blocks down from where I was staying? Then, I could walk down and get it. If I wanted a chicken club sandwich from a nearby café, I could change directions.

No need to discuss it with anyone else or make a compromise based on someone else’s tastes.

One day I decided to ride a subway line to the end of its track. It was near a college that trained athletes. I sat in front of a lake that had such clarity, not even the adjectives “crystal clear” could describe it.

Fish stared up from three feet beneath the surface, and I watched the legs of ducks move underneath them as they dared to get closer to me, their new American friend.

One of my favorite memories is gliding across the living room floor of the Norwegian apartment I was renting. I busted out dance moves while music blared through the speaker. Scents of my dinner filled the apartment and drifted out the window.

Therapeutic doesn’t begin to explain the feeling of freedom. Maybe it takes a foreign country to truly come home to yourself.

Like all fun, though, my solo vacation had to end, and the day of my return flight was upon me. Riding the train to the airport, I was surprised to feel tears in my eyes. I felt sentimental for a place unknown to me nine days prior. How could I make such a strong connection in such a short time?

As I sit here at home writing this column, I stick a fork into my microwaved frozen meal and the memories play back as if I were in Oslo just yesterday.

I’ll share my best souvenir, which is a lesson I learned thousands of miles away: Get out there; take a trip for you, just you. Explore a culture and see what you learn from it.

And don’t forget to dance. Dancing while cooking makes any meal 100 percent better.