A Wooly Saga

Seven cities, seven opportunities to buy wool. I would have to be careful not to overdo it or I’d fill my suitcase before we got to the next country. Norwegian sweaters come in bright, clear colors. I could just imagine the wool store shelves stacked with brilliant colors of soft, soft wool. Geiranger was so small we walked all of it in half an hour. They had a huge tourist shop, though, where I discovered the thing to buy in Norway is a troll. There was no wool. Nor was there wool in Tromso, Honningsvag, or Alesund. Maybe I just wasn’t finding the wool stores (except one in Honningsvag with a spinning wheel in the window, a tempting basket of pastel wools, and a “Closed” sign on the door). What I was finding was trolls. Norwegians seem particularly keen on having tourists go home with a troll. As the hero of the saga, I took these setbacks bravely, encouraged by my Mentor/husband, who said, “Maybe next time.”