Our first move

I'm struck by the presence of trains and railway stations in the pictures and memories from my early childhood. The railways are important in my life, my father was devoted to his work in the Norwegian Railways.

I have always liked traveling by train. I still do. It gives me a sense of room, of openness. It leaves me the freedom to do things whilst being on my way towards my destination. And it always feels so very safe. "Statistically," my dad used to tell me when I was a little boy, "travelling by train is by far the safest way to travel." I could always sense an air of dignified pride about him when he spoke to like that. It lingered in the air and sort of tingled inside me long after the words had been uttered.

My parents had very little money at the time I was born. That's putting politely; they were outright poor. My father had only just finished his engineering studies at Oslo Tekniske Aftenskole, which he had done at the same time as he was engaged in his apprenticeship with the Akers Mekaniske Verksted. They were married at Blaker kirke. After they got married, my dad continued his apprenticeship contract with Akers Mek and the Norwegian Railways. My dad made hardly any money at this time.

Fotunately he was a magician on the accordeon. During week-ends he did jobs on the side playing gigs. That brought some money in, but certainly not enough. Nobody has ever said this either, but I'm sure this was reason why we stayed with my father's parents for the first few months of my life.

Although it's never been said this either, I suspect my mother's pregnancy with me had not been planned. Passion had got the better of them, and I was given the oppportunity of life. Although my nan, my grandmother on my mother's side, who was deeply steeped in the christian faith, tried to suggest mine had been a premature birth. As I weighed all of 8 lbs at birth, that's rather unlikely. My nan held on to her particular perceptions about my arrivial in this world, however, until the day she died.

My dad finished his education with phenomenally good results, and shortly afterwards he applied for a job at Dokka, a small village in the municiplaity of Nordre Land in the county of Oppland. He got the job, and our family moved for the first time.

Not much later my dad was promoted and he became the youngest train engineer in the country ever. He was very pround indeed, and so were we.

Throughout my early chilhood he would let me come to work with him. I remember the feeling of standing right at the front of the train, looking down at the rails which seemed to disappear underneath the train itself at lightning speed. It was so exhilararting.

But the ride home on his bike, sitting on a small child's seat behind him and holding my arms around this big man in front of me, was even more exhilarating. My beloved dad.