We are currently having a few nice fine days in Oslo, but these follow some pretty intensive rain. I know that all over the world people are complaining about the wetness of summer 2011, the Norwegians among them, but as a Brit used to rain all year round, I am still astounded by the amount of water that can fall from the sky here. It seems to just drop, like a huge grey theatrical curtain, and the streets of the city become rivers in an instant. Whether this is some geographical phenomenon, related to clouds rolling in from the fjord, I don't know, but it is quite impressive.
Anyway, the point is that when it rains the place is positively sopping and all of the above has probably just been my preamble to a really rotten pun about mushrooms.
On a very wet Saturday Mary and Tom went hunting for sopps - mushrooms - with some Scandinavian friends. The Norwegians are very keen on obtaining food from the wild, whether that involves shooting elk or scouring the woods for bilberries and chanterelles. Of course, you have to do this with someone who knows their mushrooms properly, or take the consequences. This trip was a big success and they made a campfire and cooked sausages and mushrooms for lunch. The rest of the mushroom catch was brought back - more mushrooms for tea - and lots more we have dried to add to risottos later.
But the rain didn't stop - so M and T had been 'sopping' all day in more ways than one. (Groan!)
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