Voss, its a place in Norway, home of sheeps head dinners, bland food and extreme sports. Every year thousands of extreme people travel up or down to Voss for the world famous extreme sports week. You don't have to be extreme to attend, and lets face it, most of the people rocking out the hoodies just pretend to be extreme. You can spot them a mile off, milling around drinking beer and talking shit. Almost identical to extreme sports people infact, its all about the shoes!!
So, Voss. If you are feeling extreme, head to Voss, well head to Norway first, then to Voss. It is situated a few hours drive East of Bergan, the rainy city. So head to Bergan, but you can get to Voss from any other part of Norway, they do have roads and trains, despite pushing on being a 3rd world country. 3/4 of the population own a tractor, the other 1/4 own the oil!! I digress!
Following swiftly on from my last post. We rocked up at a ski resort called Folkenfonna, a glacier only open in the summer. It sits not far from Voss, 2 hours drive ish, and 3 hours north of a small town called Odda. Its small and plays host to hoards of slalom skiiers rocking out the 80s lycra look! It also attracts the cool kids. So feeling somewhat out of place in the flip flops and tevas, we approach the slopes with caution! Despite 3 seasons as a ski guide in the Alps, I still felt out of place, maybe it was the fact my clothing was practical, and not loosely fitted and hanging below my arse cheeks.
After eating the chicken and mustard pasta, chicken in mustard sauce, two rolls involving mustard and watching 3 and a half films, we finaly arrive in Las Vegas. No more mustard for me, and why did I have no choice except food with mustard, has no one complained about this before? Do airlines assume everyone flying with them must like mustard? Letter to a Mr Branson is needed, pickle would be a more fitting condement!
Immediately after arrival, we are greeted by the friendly immigration staff, armed guards who look more like they should be guarding a store sellling nothing but old VCR's, black and white TV's and a few Amstrad computers. 'Where are you staying?' asks the burley lady behing the desk.
