17-04-1938 -
Coincidence or Fate??
Torsten - prehistory and life
Index
II Torsten – the war - Oslo 1944
III Childhood - Ordrup school - scout
IV Youth - Gl Hellerup - forest adventure - Africa
V Alvekilen - Ia - Wedding - Thygesonsvei
VII Return Norway - ABN - FibrePac - Green Point
VIII Pensioner in Cazouls - Ia dies -
Hi - Thorstein my father called me,
but Torsten became my official name. I was small when I was born and since then
I have been a little 
squirt
But first I want to tell you a little about my ancestors:
Grandmother Anne Sophie Langballe from Aarhus in Denmark (1874 1926) and grandfather Thorald Halvor Mogensen from Copenhagen (1872 – 1937) were both performing artists, grandmother a painter, and grandfather a painter and sculptor. Grandad participated among the Skagen painters and created several landscape paintings from 1900 to 1906 from Sicily, Rome and Norway and created a number of bronze portrait busts of contemporary artists, Catholic priests, Italian farm workers.
Grandfather and grandmother settled in Copenhagen and Snekkersten where they had four children - a girl and three boys, of whom my father Otto Langballe Mogensen was the youngest (1910-1972).
All the boys suffered from tuberculosis in their young years, and were sent to Norway to get fresh dry winter air in their lungs . There they were looked after by a young Norwegian woman named Solveig Lie.
Father was sent to sea when he was about 16 on the school ship "Georg Stage", and continued for a time as a sailor on Finnish schooners that sailed timber to England. Father was small and light and got the job at the top of the mainmast handling the Top Royal sail
When he got tired of life at sea, he applied to Copenhagen Technical School and became an electrical engineer. When he approached 30, he went on his motorbike to Norway to see his "aunt Solveig". More on that later.
Grandmother Kathrine, born Hansen in Brevik (1886 – 1973). She became a pharmacist, and in 1915 married my grandfather Egil Lie-Olsen , born in Landvik on Senja in 1889 (died 1970 in Paris) Grandfather was involved in the development and patenting of granulated artificial fertilizer at the Cynamid factory in Odda. It was a very energy -intensive process, and they received hydropower electricity from the newly built power plant in Tyssedal. The construction was largely directed by Engineer Sigurd Brinch, (Ia's grandfather !!) so they knew each other well. But without any idea that their daughter's son and grandson's daughter sometime after about 50 years would carry the genes from the two families on!!
Coincidence or fate ???
Tender Aase, born Lie in Odda (1916 -2016). She spent the first two riding Odda, before the family moved to Oslo - Alfaset. They stayed there until grandfather Egil got a job in connection with the League of Nations in Geneva in 1928. So grandmother and their two girls took the train from Oslo to Geneva, where the girls (ages 9 and 12 ) went to school, and stayed there for 4 years r. Grandma had had enough of Schweiz, and returned to Oslo with the girls, who were now fluent in French. They had a number of uncles and aunts from Brevik around them. Grandfather remained in Geneva, and later moved to Paris. But his sister Solveig was my mother's favorite aunt and later my brother Olav and me.
On one of his motorcycle trips in 1935-36, our father Otto Mogensen came into contact with the famous aunt Solveig, who thought that the handsome Otto, whom she had known since childhood, could go well with her niece Aase. And they fit! So mother traveled to Copenhagen in 1936 when she was 20 and as a "Girl from Gentofte" was married to "Boy af Gentofte" 15/5-1937
Coincidence or fate ???
The result of the marriage Aase - Otto from May 1937 was that Torsten was born on 17 April 1938, and 4 years later Olav on 14 April 1942 in the middle of the war.
So I don't remember the beginning of the war, but I remember clearly Olav's arrival, when I was put in the care of my father's aunt Karen at "the Old Garden", a large property on Ordrupvei about 1 km from where we lived. There was a huge garden, with (in my 4- year - old eyes) some huge sheep. Back then, childbirth entailed a good week's stay at the hospital, so I got to know Aunt Karen's sheep well, before Olav and Mother came home to Jægersborg Alléy 96 and to a proud big brother.
Father had worked as an electrical engineer at Siemens since before the war, and continued there, but was a reserve officer in the Danish defence. He was also active in the resistance movement. We had flowers on the windowsill, and if we had visitors from strangers, the flowers were reshuffled, so that father would not be ambushed.
I entered school in the autumn of 1944, and my mother's sister Astri was getting married in September, so the sisters negotiated with the Gestapo in Copenhagen and Oslo, so that we were allowed to travel to Oslo for the wedding. So Mom, Olav 2-1/2 years old, and I 6-1/2 years old took the train from Copenhagen via Helsingør-Helsingborg and on with the night train to Oslo . There was an endless number of passport and visa checks by Swedish, German and Norwegian police and military police at night.
The wedding ceremony between Astri and Valentin Fürst took place in Uranienborg church and I was a groomsman in a sailor's suit with a very sweet 6 -year-old bridesmaid from Valentin's family .
Otherwise there were nocturnal airplane alarms, and everyone had to run down to the basement until the "danger over" signal sounded. It was quite dramatic, so mother decided that we should cut short our stay in Oslo. I got over-nervous, she said. So we took the train back to Helsingborg earlier than planned. Once arrived in H'borg, it turned out that Denmark was closed due to a general strike . So we spent the night at a hotel in Helsingborg, and had the opportunity to see shops with lighted windows, bananas, oranges and other things we didn't have in Denmark. And without air-raid alarms. When we finally got home, father was in hospital after a hernia operation but otherwise in good shape.
And when I was going to school, it turned out that it had been requisitioned for the Polish and Prussian refugees who were being chased by the Russians on the way to Berlin. So we were located in Menighetshuset in Ordrup for a good year. So the last war winter passed.
And it was spring , and one fine evening on May 4, Olav and I were sent to bed early, while mother and father were downstairs at the Banck-Petersen family, who owned the house, to listen to "News from London”. And at 20.30 they came rushing up and told us that the German forces in Holland, NW Germany and Denmark had capitulated - it was the 4th of May 1945! So then all the blinds were torn down, and brought out into the garden and burned! And candles were lit in window sills throughout the house, across the city, and throughout the country - a custom that continues in many places in Denmark even today.
In 1946, when I turned 8, my mother and father thought that I should start in the scouting movement, as a wolf cub, in the 2nd Klampenborg Flock (and later Troop). It was four great years, with friendly discipline, learning practical activities, and preparation to be a Scout ! I was with my classmate Jørgen Sederberg Olsen, with whom I still have close contact.
On an Easter holiday around 1950, the parents were going to the mountains with aunt Astri (mother's sister) and her husband Valentin Fürst, without children! But good old aunt Solveig, who had married mother and father, knew a married couple at Sønsterud on Finnskogen . He was a forest manager and she took in children during holidays, so Olav and I took the train to Flisa and stayed with the Thorkildsen family with two sweet daughters of our age, so it was a very successful winter holiday !
When we turned 12 in 1950, Jørgen and I were assigned to the Scout Troop in each year's patrol . And the first summer camp went to Norway, to a small island, Bustein, which lay out in the Oslofjord, an hour's rowing trip from Tjøme. So there we camped for a good week with all kinds of climbing trips and paddling competitions with vessels made from the tent base and spruce branches as inboard bracing. Wonderful summer, where I first learned to swim at least 50 m without sinking ! I stayed on Fürstøya with my family and my Norwegian cousins, while the rest of the squad returned to Copenhagen with M/S "Kronprins Olav".
At Ordrup School, things went as normal, cycling to and from, free time was scout meetings, and then soapbox cars with Jørgen. We became quite advanced, and even took a trip to Helsingør, where Jørgen's father had a service home. We didn't get all the way to Helsingør before Jørgen's mother picked us up in her car. It probably wouldn’t work today!
In the summer of 1952, Mr. Rønn-Christensen, our class teacher, arranged a trip with the class (second intermediate) by train to Padborg, and bus (with chauffeur Schulz (Grûss Gott mit hellem Klang)) on via Hamburg, Rüdesheim, Helle , Munich, Salzburg, over the Alps to Venice. It was a wonderful trip - we stayed in youth hostels, visited the Munich Hofbräuhaus, Piazza San Marco, and a whole lot of other interesting places. It was only 7 years after the war, so we saw much of which was completely destroyed. It made a strong impression on us , who had just finished our first year of German lessons. So it was my first "proper" trip abroad. Norway was my mother's country, after all. We continued for three years to Ordrup Skole, Grønnev until we finished secondary school, and had to choose a high-school. Jørgen and I stayed together until we each chose a school (and since then we still talk together regularly by phone). Jørgen wanted to become a doctor, like his mother, and I chose pursue languages at another school: Gl. Hellerup Gymnasium. I didn't know what I wanted to study later, but I liked languages . After all, I had English for 4 years, German for 3 years, Latin for 1 year and French for 1 year, so it was better than mathematics, I thought.
So after another summer holiday in Norway, this time in bear country - Vassfaret - with some scout friends and the family, Gammel Hellerup Gymnasium was waiting for me and I had 15 classmates - all boys, because it had been a boys' school since its foundation back in 1894, which later became the cradle of the Scout movement in Denmark. The school's motto was "Memento Vivere" - Remember to live! It was the languages track, so we had Danish, English, German, French and Latin for another three years . It took a lot of effort, so there were only 8 of us who received the coveted student cap in June 1957.
Then the question was easy: What now? My classmates chose law, journalism, teaching, philosophy and medicine. And I chose the outdoors as a full-time forestry student. I had, via a friend of good old aunt Sol, been on winter holiday with a Norwegian forestry candidate - forest manager, and he helped me get into the Vocational School for young workers.
Coincidence or fate ???
At that time, 20 forestry candidates were trained in Denmark each year, but only 2 got jobs in Danish forests. That was the reason why I went to Norway!
But first our antiquities teachers had prepared a 6-week trip to the cradle of antiquity – Greece and Rome. So there were 12 of us from two student classes - language and maths - and two teachers who steamed off by train through Germany, Austria , Yugoslavia to Thessaloniki. A very long train ride in a passenger car and a luggage net like a rolling dormitory.
We spent a week in Athens and plowed through museums, temples, amphitheater, the surroundings (i.e. the surrounding islands) before steaming off with good old "Ekatherini" in 4th Class with soldiers, farmers and chickens, sheep and goats. It was a 36-hour trip, fortunately in good weather. We ended up in Heraklion where we stayed at Hotel Florida by the harbor. Later we naturally went to Knossos, not far from Heraklion. Now you have to remember that this was in the 1950s, so there weren't many tourists other than us. A number of Americans on a 3-day classical tour, who didn't have time to stop anywhere. But we explored the cellars and sewers and found quite a few potsherds . Most of them we had to hand over at the exit to the museum's collections.
The efforts at Knossos gave us a healthy and natural thirst, which was quenched at a small bodega, with lamb meat and beans as solid food. One wanted to celebrate admission to a school, one had a birthday, one had a birthday the following week, so there were many glasses of Greek white wine. So we had a siesta in the shade of the olive trees . We had the Danish javelin champion with us, and he was training for the discus championship. He found a very nice round flat stone which he hurled into space. But there I stood in the way, and went down for the count with blood trickling from my forehead down my shirt. It was washed off and we took the bus back to Heraklion, where I received medical treatment, cleansing and pinching of the forehead to make sure it was correct. So I stayed at home at the hotel the next day while the others went exploring in Faistos on the south side of Crete. Back on the mainland, we visited Olympos, Pellopones, had competition at the original stadium in Olympia, before we went by ferry from Patras to Brindisi, then by train and bus to Sicily, and on to Segesta: the neighboring town of the Mafia capital. One of old teacher Rich's friends from the war days lived there. They met in Neuengamme, the prison camp for resistance fighters from most of Europe. They camped together with several thousand other prisoners, but preserved their friendship, and he had offered us to spend the night in his sheep farm! It was like that so to speak, closest neighbor to the famous Amphitheater in Segesta. After Sicily we went on to Naples, where I tasted my first Pizza (napolitana!) Before we went on we were asked to Heraklion. And then on to Rome - la Citta eternelle! There the trip ended as an organized joint affair, and people were left to their own devices to get home to Denmark. Some stayed over, some took the train, and I hitchhiked from Rome to Copenhagen in 5 days!
Once at home, it was just a matter of packing the rucksack and suitcase again, and jumping into a rather exciting but unknown future, first as a lumberjack apprentice in the Norwegian forests!
Basic course for young people in forest work - 9 weeks with a little theory and a lot of work technique. There is a long way to go before a first candidate title! ! ! But damn it was interesting for a newly minted Copenhagen student to camp with 23 other young people, mostly the sons of forest owners, who also had to learn proper work techniques, so as not to damage their backs, arms and legs. Most of them had already acquired bad habits which were picked out. I had no habits at all, and got very tired. I put on 5 kg in those 9 weeks, and it wasn't fat! When school ended, I got a short-term job as a forest worker with a forest owner named Gundersen. There I was put to logging together with 4 experienced adult loggers. They each cut about 5 - 6 cubic meters per day. I was jubilantly happy the days I reached 1 cbm! We lived in a cabin deep in Finnskogen , and since it was winter it was often bitterly cold. Fortunately, I had a good warm sleeping bag, so I didn't notice that the sleeping bag occasionally froze to the timber wall. Each of us looked after our own food, oatmeal in the morning, dumplings with fat or butter and pork for lunch and definitely roast pork and potatoes in the evening. About 5,000 Kcal per day should be consumed, if the worksheet was to be kept. It was 6-8 km through the forest on skis to the nearest merchant , so Saturdays were set aside for shopping. By Christmas I had earned enough to travel to Copenhagen for a family visit to my parents.
When the contract with Gundersen came to an end, I applied to enter the Statens Praktiske Skogskole on å Osen , further up in Østerdalen. I went there from February to October 1958. There were also 24 of us boys, in 6 4-person bunks. All meals were taken together in the main building, where there were also showers and toilets, and of course a kitchen, served by women from Osen. There was a nice mix of theory and practice here as well , with more emphasis on theory. But we planted, chopped, cleared, were the forest fire brigade, and it was a nice group. I was back at school with Ia for the 50th anniversary in 1993, and greeted old friends. It was a continental climate, with up to 25 -28 degrees in the summer and down to -37 degrees in the winter. Then the ax rang its dirge! Lake Osensjøen, which was our source of water, froze for a period, in the winter of 1958, so that we had to melt snow for food and drink. Personal cleaning was reduced to a weekly bus trip to the Rena Kartongfabrikk to shower. There they had the whole of Glomma to pull from!
After SPS, I applied and was accepted at Akershus Skogskole in Hvam, near Gardermoen, and I went there from January 1959 to April 1960. This school is more or less a continuation of SPS, but with considerably more theory, and not least a final exam, which counts when applying to the University of Agriculture in Aas. So it was 1-1/2 years that brought me a lot of useful experience and learning .
I was called up to serve my conscription in Denmark, but had live abroad, and asked to serve my conscription in Norway. After a lot of paperwork on both ends, it went well, and I, as a Danish citizen, was called up to serve at the infantry's recruit school at Heistadmoen in July 1960. After 4 months of recruit school, I was transferred to Trandum for a year 's cover service, until graduation in November 1961.
On the train from Oslo to Heistadmoen I came in a compartment with 7 other boys, mostly from around the country, but also with Knut Knudsen from Oslo, and Andreas Scott Hansen, also from Oslo, but raised and university educated in the USA, at Georgetown, so he had a distinct Norwegian twang. It happened that we ended up in the same room at Heistadmoen. Our friendship lasted until Knut died of heart failure in about 1990, and I still have a good connection with Andreas, who returned to the USA after a couple of years in shipping business for Norwegian shipowners. He got married while we were at Trandum, to Beatrice, a French girl he had met at university in the USA. The wedding was in Val d'Isere in eastern France, and I was invited as 'best man' who asked that they be able to speak to the French and the Norwegian part of the families . I booked myself on the military plane from Gardermoen to Châteauroux, which was then a military and cargo airport in central France, and did not know how to get from the airport to Val d'Isere. But I was to face bigger problems: a number of the high-ranking NATO officers were to travel on the same plane, so they could not accept an ordinary corporal on board. So I had to telegraph and say I couldn't come to the wedding !
Otherwise, the military service proceeded as normal for an infantryman in the UN battalion on Trandum . We were about to be conscripted to the UN troops in Gaza, 6 months' service there. But the Storting wanted it differently. They believed that it was too dangerous for the young conscripts to serve with live ammunition, so those who left when we arrived at Trandum were the last company of conscripts. They were replaced by enlisted soldiers!
So we had to contend with the Norwegian winter, military skis, sledges, marches to the mountains with button tents, so it was a good thing I had a past in the forest, the poor Copenhagen boy I was!
After finishing my military service, I was employed as a forest assistant with landowner and forestry professor Hans HH Heiberg on Amla farm in the Sognefjord from November 1962 to December 1963. It was a magnificent year . The forest is located on the north side of the Sognefjord, facing south and is very lush and productive, compared to the Østerdal forests. I worked with almost all forestry activities under the direction of the estate owner and his forest manager: planting, thinning, felling, planning and reporting. It was very steep, so I got in good shape! In January 1962, after applying, I was granted Norwegian citizenship by the county governor in Solvorn, deep in the Sognefjord. Sworn allegiance to Norway's Constitution!
While I was with Heiberg, I was asked if I would apply as a tour guide in Greece for SSTS (Scandinavian Student Travel Service) on the recommendation of my former ancient teacher and tour guide in Greece in the summer of 1957. Heiberg thought it was a good idea, so I went on an 8-week rotation (one week per group). They arrived by plane, and were given a tour of the most important sights, temples, museums, etc. When I was in Nauplion with the 3rd group, I had severe stomach pains and a Greek doctor diagnosed appendicitis! And that it must be operated on promptly. I refused and pointed out that I was responsible for 30 students. Wasn't that an option? Hmmm, he said. There was an old hag's remedy using ice packs on her stomach for 36 hours. So I could continue the trip . BUT: it will come again in 28 days, he said, and then you have to cut ! The group was to look at the amphitheater in Epidaurus while I stayed with my ice packs. And the next day I was in pretty good shape. So when I arrived in Nauplion with group no. 7 I got a stomach ache again. Same doctor, same discussion, same treatment, and it worked out. But next time, the doctor said, I must go under the knife.
Then I was back in Sognefjorden, and when the pain started I called the local doctor, who drove me to the ferry to Lærdal hospital, where I ended up on the butcher's bench, and a young doctor cut me open, and then the appendix burst so I had to clean the entire abdominal cavity with lapis lazuli.
It was a long time ago , but it went well, and since then I have had no appendicitis! I continued with Heiberg until Christmas 1962 and traveled to Copenhagen.
I had looked at the opportunity and traveled to Copenhagen to enter Aas Agricultural College, to update my (lack of) maths knowledge with my former friends from the maths department from Gl Hellerup. But it didn't captivate me, so I started looking at the job ads in the Berlinger, and found something that really tempted me; Northern Soft and Hardwood (Dalhoff Larsen & Hornemann - DL&H) was looking for an employee who could speak French and who had forestry - timber experience (had splinters in his fingers) for the office in Abidjan on the Ivory Coast.
So I borrowed my father's old Underwood typewriter, applied, was called for an interview, and got the job among 12 candidates, so I was in seventh heaven. I was employed in March 1963, worked a bit at the head office in Copenhagen and at their sawmill in Roskilde, until leaving for Abidjan in April.
DL&H arranged tickets for me and Director Bjørn Jensen, who had set up several of the company's coastal offices (Abidjan in the Ivory Coast, Takoradi in Ghana, Douala in Cameroun and Libreville in Gabon) but it was in the old days around the time when the various countries in Africa kicked out the colonial powers (for 60 years) Ivory Coast (Cote d'Ivoire) became an independent republic in 1960 under President Houphouet Boigny, who had previously served as a minister in Charles de Gaulle's government.
I arrived in 1963 on a SAS Caravelle to Copenhagen and then with Air Afrique to Abidjan. There John Hornemann (son of the top manager of DL&H) managed the office where Thomsen and I were buyers and a Moroccan/French secretary and accountant. In the port there were 6 employed Africans from Haute Volta (now Burkina Fasso). Their tasks were to verify that the logs that Thomsen or I had received up in the jungle had all arrived. The logs were from 1 ton and up to about 10-12 tons depending on the type of wood. Each log was numbered and marked with the supplier and classified as either A, B or C quality, allowing us to put together lots in accordance with the orders of our various customers around the world.
The rule in DL&H was that colleagues were referred to by their surname and Vous's, not Tu's. Thomsen and I shared a villa with a night guard armed with a bow, arrow and spear, paid by the company, and a houseboy, paid by us. He kept the house tidy, washed clothes, shopped and cooked for us two 25 -year-old Scandinavians. We each had our suppliers around the bush, whom we visited when they had collected enough timber to justify a trip into the jungle. So there was a lot of driving! I was handed a well-used Citroën 2 CV, which I used well for the first six months. It didn't go that fast, but I had a good time with it, and kept up with the timber trucks on flat land! I was the only Norwegian in Abidjan, sponsored by the Swedish consulate. It turned out that the Braastad family from Oppland ran a large pineapple plantation some distance outside Abidjan, but they were rarely in town.
But in 1964, the Norwegian government upgraded the diplomatic connection to an embassy. With ambassador, First Secretary, and a young lady as embassy secretary named Benny Brinch, with responsibilities including for communication and mail to the Norwegian freight schooners that visited the harbor regularly (SWAL, Hoegh-line and Wilhelmsen-lines). As I was the only Norwegian in the city, and thus the Norwegian colony, I was invited to many of the embassy's events, and gradually got to know Benny, who was 3 years younger than me, well.
Coincidence or fate ???
But Benny found a French wood buyer named Patrick Bernard, so I eventually became a kind of third wheel, and concentrated on my job. In the meantime, I had been upgraded from a 2CV to a Peugeot 403, which I drove about 50,000 km per year, inspecting and purchasing the timber lots that were ready from the various manufacturers, French, Lebanese and Danish (Palle Ravn)
Thomsen and I eventually got to know our competitors of different nationalities, French, Dutch, English, German and Danish, who were all aged 25-35, and they were all on first names (tu's). Then one lively evening at the stock cafe in the harbor, after a year one of the others asked: Why are you two on your last name between you, and all the rest of us are on our first name? (you're). We looked at each other, slightly bemused, and said: "Company policy!" They had a good laugh and said: Stuff company policy, here in the harbor we are all on first names! So we drank tu's and we wondered how John Hornemann would take this. The next morning, when he discovered that we were on first names and you's, he turned red at the top and said he shouldn't have any of that. We explained the situation, that all the rest of the timber industry in Abidjan was on a first name basis and said that we could not be both one and the other, so we continued to be tu's. But vous’s with Hornemann and his wife! And others who visited us from HK.
The first secretary at the embassy, who was a few years older than me, and a keen sportsman, suggested one day that the two of us should try to climb "Le dent de Man", the Ivory Coast's highest mountain, about 700 km NW of Abidjan. It was tempting, so we set off, spent the night en route and began the ascent through the jungle the next morning. And suddenly we are at the top, about 1000 m above sea level, but still dense jungle. So the view was rather limited. And it was my only mountain climbing in the three years I was in the Ivory Coast.
Otherwise, there was a lot of driving on dirt roads, through villages, often with chickens, which would definitely cross the road in front of the car. Some made it, others didn't. One day on my way back from the bush to Abidjan, a huge snake suddenly crossed the road in front of me. It was longer than the road was wide, and I saw neither head nor tail of it. Then I thought, now or never, a real trophy from Africa, and stepped on the gas, floored the brake when I got to the snake, backed over it for safety, and was about to open the door to get the machete from the trunk. As I was about to open the door, with the window open, I saw a huge snake's head waddling back and forth over the engine box, so I slammed the door shut, rolled up the window and thought: what now. But the snake had had enough and slid (it seemed) effortlessly into the bush. So it came with horror for both it and me! But maybe it had a bit of a pain in the back?
I had an 8 mm narrow film camera, but there was no time for either that or a photo. But I still have a lot of recordings from national holidays in Abidjan and from the logging operation in the bush.
Once I was invited to our office in Takoradi in Ghana. The journey took place on an English freighter with timber, with accommodation on board. Good catering with wine or beer. That was not the case on Norwegian ships.
In the office in Takoradi, they mostly processed the same types of wood that we had in Abidjan, but there were no timber trucks. All the timber came by rail, up to the port in Takoradi from various collection points in the bush. And the railway was nationalised. That is, monopolized. And with monopoly comes corruption. My colleagues in Ghana had to negotiate with the station master at the port for the required number of wagons for their timber. The station master had a nice desk with a continuous drawer. After some negotiation, they agreed on the price, and our man had to put the cash in the drawer, which was quickly withdrawn so the boss could count the amount. Occasionally he said that there was a shortage of wagons, but that he could get more for an extra amount! So he lived well on his missing wagons!
We didn't have those problems in Abidjan. No monopoly, no corruption (back then). If you were stopped for speeding by the police, you had to pay cash against a receipt. If you tried to negotiate the fine, it was noted as an attempt to bribe an official, and the fine increased !!
On a trip in the bush where all three of us boys were with us (Hornemann was driving) we suddenly came face to face with a large heavy road scraper at a bend on the narrow dirt road, with the driver standing behind the wheel singing in a wild cloud. So it came to an abrupt halt for both cars, the road scraper unharmed, but the Peugeot had received a dent, but we were all unharmed. It was before the seat belt time. It happened just outside a village, so the police arrived quickly, and gave the scraper driver a couple on the side of the head with his sandal, before we were escorted back to the village, where the car was fixed and we spent the night, before returning to Abidjan.
The working day for wood buyers was long, hot and humid. The annual temperature was between 30 and 35 degrees C with a humidity of 90-95%, except for about two weeks around Christmas time, when the wind shifted to the north, with the Hamadan from the Sahara and the Savannah. Then you could hear people reading the newspaper! It crackled so it was a joy! Otherwise it was as silent as a wet rag.
We had to be in the port at 07.00 to receive the timber together with our African employees. The woods were generally Acajou (mahogany), Tiama (mahogany substitute), Samba (for plywood) and Assamela (teak substitute, especially for load-bearing elements) and occasionally Nyangon (precious wood in general). Lunch and siesta from 12 – 15 and back in the harbor from 15-19, Monday to Saturday. Sunday morning from 07.00 until lunch. So 6 ½ days per week = 59 hour week. All meals were prepared and served by our houseboy.
The days in the harbor were naturally interrupted by the buying trips up into the bush, once or twice a week. It was 400 – 700 km each time. Sometimes you spent the night at the mill, and it was always very pleasant. No A/C, but natural drafts from the jungle through the mosquito net, and always exciting food.
One day Benny asked me if I could / would be a bodyguard for 2 girls from the British Embassy, since the English Red Cross had donated 3 Land Rovers to the Red Cross in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Fasso (formerly Upper Volta), which were to be driven from Abidjan to Ouagadougou, about 1000 km. I got permission, so we set off, three African drivers and the two English embassy secretaries and I northwards, first on tarmac (1/3 of the way) then jungle and savannah roads. The cars were naturally not air-conditioned, so we drove with the windows open. We passed through Yamasoukrou, then a small village, now the capital of Côte d'Ivoire. Later Ferkessedougou on the border of the savannah, where we spent the night in a hotel. The girls and I each got our own room with a shower, and had to go through the shower three times to get dust-free! We visited the market and I found a home-woven and sewn rug with drawings of turtles and fish. The drawings were made on the carpet lying on the ground, covered with clay, the motifs scratched with a stick, and then covered with thin liquid tar. When the clay was dry, the whole thing was shaken and the drawings emerged in a dark brown colour. It's still hanging on the wall here in Cazouls!
The next day we continued across the border to Haute Volta, across the savannah via Bobo Dialasso before arriving in Ouagadougou late in the afternoon, where the Red Cross received us with great ceremony. The next day we were driven to the railway station and given a seat in 1st class on the 36-hour trip back to Abidjan, with a diesel-electric locomotive and a short length of rail. So it sounded like we were driving at 120 km/h, but it took 36 hours. Without air conditioning, so we got dusty here too !!!
Benny and Patrick were more and more together, and one day in 1965, Benny asked me if I would be Patrick's groomsman, as they wanted to get engaged on one of the Hoegh-line boats that came regularly to Abidjan. I happily said yes, because I had the best impression of Patrick. The engagement party on board the Hoegh boat with Captain Henningsen was a great success (and the relationship is still going on in 2021!). In particular, "Coca Cola de Norvege" became very popular (Lysholm Linje Akvavitt). Fortunately, there were no alcohol tests at the time in Abidjan!
Eventually the time for my summer vacation in 1966 approached. I had planned to return with Air Afrique, but Braastad (the pineapple producer) suggested that I could fly with his friend Monsieur Puibaraud in his Cessna 206, 6-seater, single-engine, high-wing private plane from Abidjan to Billund in Denmark, where his wife came from. He had a French Air Force fighter pilot with him as co-pilot; This was exciting, so I agreed and canceled the jet plane ticket. It's not every day you get such an offer.
DAY 1 - We started from Abidjan in the morning, flew north towards Mali, stopped by Bamako to refuel before heading west to Dakar, the capital of Senegal and spent the night there.
DAY 2 - Our Cessna 206 had just been for an overhaul, but it turned out that the battery charger was misadjusted, and overcharged the battery, so it got hot, and lost water !!! Thus we could not start. We were a three-man crew: the pilot took care of paperwork in connection with customs clearance and the flight plan, the co-pilot took care of the tower and meteo, for the trip, and the purser served wine and sandwiches along the way, and got a taxi at each airport we were down about to start the plane. Once we were in the air arranged the engine with power for the necessary functions. So I became an expert at finding willing taxi drivers around Africa and Europe. I found, we started, and took off from Dakar heading north, partly across the Sahara, partly across the Atlantic, across Mauritania and Western Sahara to El Aioun, an airport about 50 km from the coast, just inside the Canary Islands. We landed there and waited for 2 other proper small planes, which were a little slower than us, and which missed El Aioun. Fortunately, they found an airstrip in the desert, but were out of fuel. So a land rover was sent out with some jerry cans of jet fuel and they arrived just before dark. so we ate together and spent the night there.
DAY 3 - We started our procedures, Pilot-tower, Copilot – meteo, purser – taxi. Everything went smoothly and we got electricity from a kind taxi driver and took off towards the north. After a few hours of calm flying, we arrived in Casablanca in Morocco in good order; We had dinner and spent the night there.
DAY 4 - The morning routine completed, and we took off north. After about an hour in the air, the engine suddenly coughed. The co-pilot located a US military base, Kenitra, and requested an emergency landing. It was granted and the Yankees moved out with fire engines and ambulances and followed us all the way to the hangars. Their engineers wondered what was wrong and we explained it (I had to interpret quite a bit). They said they would fix it. But we had to spend the night there, because it was obviously not easy.
DAY 5 - This morning the plane started as new, without a taxi, and we took off to fly over the Iberian Peninsula, towards Bayonne in the South of France. As we approached Tangier on the Mediterranean and Gibraltar the tower called us up and asked where we were going. We answered Bayonne. They said no, out of the question, you have to check out customs from Morocco. No, answered our pilot, we come from Kenitra. Well, it's coming from the tower, if it doesn't turn now, we'll send our fighters up to force you down here!!! OK replied the pilot, so we landed
And cleared customs etc, but it was too late to start and cross Spain from south to north. And there is a long way between the airstrips in the mountains of Spain or Portugal. So we spent the night in Tangier, which was an exciting city, the short time we had there.
DAY 6 - The team each prepared their tasks and today we needed a new taxi, but we got off and crossed the Strait of Gibraltar, and further into the Spanish hinterland - the Sierra Nevada which is not very attractive from a small plane. And suddenly the engine coughed, and the propeller just idled.! Fortunately, we were up to 3,000 m. The co-pilot took over and dived at full speed, got the engine jump-started, so there was again draft in the propeller. Then I have to admit that I was a little worried, as I looked at the hilly terrain below us. But he managed it, and it lasted all the way to Bayonne where there was dense cloud cover and rain, after 6 days of sun from blue skies. Again the co-pilot took over and got us to land on the strip, on the nose wheel, then the cover there was twisted off so it rattled like a machine gun, but we were still intact and taxied in to the hangars, where Puibaraud was an insider, when he lived in St .Jean de Luz.
DAY 7 - We stayed over a day to rest our ears and to breathe.
DAY 8 - Departure from Bayonne, with the team in full activity. After filling up a taxi, we took off in the direction of Rotterdam in Holland. After landing on the main strip at the main airport there, the engine died, and the co-pilot and I had to jump out and push the plane off the runway when the next one was a passenger plane directly behind us. After a cleaning bucket from the management, we found a hotel and spent the night without sightseeing.
DAY 9 - Problematic with a taxi on the international side of the terminal, but we succeeded and we took off for Denmark and Billund in Jutland, where we landed after a quiet trip without engine problems or anything else. There I said a hearty farewell to my two pilots, with whom I had experienced more excitement in 9 days than otherwise in 9 years!!! I found a bus to the nearest DSB station and arrived in Bjælkevangen north of Copenhagen, to mother and father in the evening.
The pilot Puibaraud flew back to Paris, where he exchanged his Cessna 206 for a larger and faster version, with two engines and propellers, low wing. A month after we parted, he took off from Paris and after a couple of days of flying he arrived in Dakar, took a normal front turn, but the speed and turn radius greater than he was used to, so he crashed straight into a large tree by the runway and was killed on the spot. I was in Norway then, and it was a big shock to me; Even worse for his wife who was 7 months pregnant. I never met her.
I went to DL&H and told them I had had enough of the bachelor life in Abidjan and asked to be released. I was and I was free as a bird thereafter.
In the meantime, Benny and Patrick had fixed the wedding for 6 August 1966 in Tromøy church, with a party at the Speiderhytta, which was (and is) the Brinch family's summer residence. On my first visit there, to get to know Benny's family, I was introduced to a beautiful 23-year-old diving girl, dripping wet after an hour's swim - Benny's little sister - Ia - Inger Beate Brinch. And thus began the second, and more serious part of my life.
Benny and Patrick's wedding was grand, first wedding in the small and intimate Tromøy church with all of Patrick's family and the entire Brinch family, complete with aunts and uncles, cousins and friends from Arendal and Alvekilen. The celebratory dinner was held at Speiderhytta. I acted as an interpreter between the two families with Benny. The atmosphere was a little timid at first, but when my nice new tie (un)luckily dipped into the bowl of sauce, it created riotous laughter, and the atmosphere rose to a level befitting a good wedding! Subsequent dancing on the pier ended with the bride being thrown into the water by her own cousins!
The rest of the summer I saw a good deal of her little sister Ia, who very fortunately lived just 10 minutes' walk from my grandmother's apartment in Oslo, where I was staying.
I worked a little with one of my former Danish colleagues from Abídjan, while I was looking for something more permanent. And I was lucky, because Trestandard was looking for an employee to sell licenses abroad. I applied, got the job and was employed 1/1-1967 in what eventually became Nordia, Norema after the takeover of the Enamel Works a few years later. The job consisted of marketing licenses for the production of our products and solutions for kitchen fittings, shop fittings, movable office walls and laboratory fittings to 8-10 countries in Europe and later in the USA. I eventually got to know the cabin crew at SAS well after a year of round trips every 4 weeks which often started with Oslo-Copenhagen. The company had subsidiaries in Denmark and Sweden, so there were quite a few trips there, but later also to Leeds in England and Hamburg in Germany and otherwise Finland, Ireland, Belgium, Holland, France, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Spain and Portugal .
On a trip to Leeds in England, in the summer of 1967, Ia wrote in a letter to me that she would still like to get engaged with a ring!!! I was over the moon happy and grateful and we started searching for a nest. A project on Nesøya was very attractive, but it was too expensive for us, so we rented a basement apartment on the best East Side in Oslo.
Then we were finally able to get married, and it happened on 9 February 1968 in Frogner church, with a big family dinner in the evening in the Hotel Gabelshus in Gabelsgate, not far from Brinch's apartment. The next day we packed our winter clothes and skis and went to a mountain lodge, where we were the only guests and got a room with bunk beds! But we enjoyed ourselves in the lower one 😊 After a short week of ski trips, the trip went back to Oslo for work. Ia to Fürst's laboratory and I to Trestandard
We enjoyed ourselves on Thygesonsvei, with entrance directly from Skøyenparken, and a view of Oslo from the living room's panoramic window! The following summer - 19/6-1969, Christian came into the world to the joy and jubilation of us and the grandparents on both sides. He was baptized a few weeks later in Tromøy church, which was the setting for Benny's wedding three years earlier. And three years later, on 13/6-1972, Erik was born to equal cheers and joy on all sides. However, a great sadness hit us 4 weeks later, when Otto, my father, passed away at the age of 61 due to a heart attack.
We found the apartment to be a bit cramped, with two children, and the bedroom in a garage, converted into a bedroom. So we looked for something bigger, preferably on the eastern edge of Oslo, where we felt comfortable. We found Furuveien 38, which Erik and Beate now own with their two boys Amund and Herman. We got financing from Ia's uncle at Oslo Sparebank, our own bank, and from salesman Rein Barratt, who worked at Bergen Bank. So with the savings from the years in Abidjan, we were able to move into our own house. The price corresponded to 4 annual salaries of NOK 60,000 at the time. It helped a lot that inflation was 8 – 12% per year for a number of years to come.
So now we were homeowners with 3 bedrooms and a bathroom on the 2nd floor, a large living room, kitchen, entrance and wc on the 1st floor, and a cellar under the entire house. It was built in 1926 and Rein had blown rockwool insulation into all the walls shortly before we bought it.
As mentioned before, I traveled about one week a month to our licensees around Europe, and otherwise had to visit our factories in Jessheim and Eggemoen to be updated on the latest technical developments, so the driving and travel allowance was a good addition to the salary at end of the month. And I must say that I was happy about my schooling in Denmark, where from the age of 11 we had regular lessons in English, German, Latin and French, with the number of hours per week increasing as we got older.
I served my military service in Norway, and since the TV programs were rather boring, I took a correspondence course in Spanish instead, which came in handy since we had two licensees in Spain and one in Portugal, so I was able to maintain Cervantes' tongue as well.
After 11 years with Norema, in the winter of 1977 I received a tip that the company Anthon B Nilsen & Co Ltd A/S was looking for a person to manage an office to be set up in Sharjah, one of the 7 Emirates of the United Arab Emirates, neighbor to Dubai. A Tjæreborg plane had crashed in the mountains down there, and Ia remembered it, so we could find it on the map, and she said yes, it could be exciting!
I traveled down in April 1978 to get to know the area and the possibilities, with a contract for two years. I returned for summer vacation and we all traveled down at the beginning of September for good. We were to get housing and schooling for the boys, who were then 6 and 9 years old, and a trip to Oslo a year for the whole family. The boys entered the International School of Choueifat, which had students from 12-14 different nationalities, and started in a class for students without English skills with intensive training in English from September to December. By then they were fluent in English, and developed a very nice, fluent Oxford English in the following years. Both boys have expressed their unreserved joy about their stay, and the schooling at Choueifat for the 8 years it lasted. They were both attracted to a new subject - computer processing, with the result that they have both become software developers at a high level after a good deal of further education in computer science. Ia and I both worked at work, Ia in the office for a couple of years as a secretary, until I needed full-time help.
We bought a small Honda Civic for Ia, as there was no public transport in Sharjah, and I got a Toyota 929 as a company car. After three years and about 130,000 km it was replaced with a large Buick, which lasted about 150,000 km and three years. It was replaced in a lightly used Mercedes 280 (the sheiks only used the cars for a year before they were replaced). Previously we had replaced Ia's Honda with a SAAB 900 which was bought tax-free in Gothenburg during a holiday, so we were in good driving condition, and took both cars to Norway on our return trip in 1986.
My job was to promote Norwegian industrial products in the UAE and beyond in the Gulf. In the beginning it was mostly about wood fiber boards for use in the construction industry and road construction, Norwegian Slate for decoration and flooring, later a lot of newsprint for the new English-language newspapers, and later for most newspapers in the Gulf, (Khaleej Times, Gulf News, Gulf Times, Al Ittihad, and several others). I was the only resident representative for paper mills (Norske Skog and Follum Fabrikker), so we had a slight advantage over Finnish, Swedish and Canadian paper mills at the time. We also represented a manufacturer of "slings", What is it? There are straps for handling bulk items in bags. For example, cement in bags of 50 kg, which most often comes by sea. 30 sacks of 50 kg stacked in a sling becomes 1,500 kg - one and a half tonnes, which are reloaded from the boat's hold by crane to trailers waiting on the quay for transport to construction sites around the country. We (a Greek trader, an American trader, and I) demonstrated the construction of "slingloads" both in Constanz in the Black Sea and in Kuwait in the Gulf. The latter assignment was for Saddam Hussein, who bought cement for his defense works against Iran. It was in the middle of Ramadan and I do not envy the workers who worked in the hold with slingloading in 40-45 degree heat and sun from the zenith, without water or food from sunrise to sunset. They were all devout Muslims!
At one point we were contacted by a Swedish engineer who had patented a way to produce a kind of foam, which floated on the surface but absorbed oil. Since we had an office in the Gulf, where all the oil came from, he asked if we would consider producing this foam and blowing it into long socks (30 cm diam x 100-200 m long) and selling them to those who needed something like that. I got the go-ahead from ABN management and we set up a primitive production plant, produced a warehouse and went on a sales tour around the Gulf. First the port authorities and shipyards in the UAE, later in Bahrain, Qatar, Oman and Saudi Arabia. We got hold of several ports and drydocks around, but the interest eventually faded, so the matter was later put on hold, to the great disappointment of Engineer Jan Berglund.
After 8 very interesting years in the Gulf, both business-wise and personally, with friends of many nationalities, both Arab, Pakistani and European from all corners of the continent, and club activities such as golf, which we both became very keen on (Sharjah Wanderers golf Club) where Ia was Lady Captain for a couple of years. I was even for a time in the Church of the Seamen's Church in Dubai. So when the management of ABN after 8 years hinted that we might come home with the family, it was with sadness, while at the same time we were prepared that one day it would have to end. After all, I had signed up for 2 years, like most contracts in the other offices, so we were seniors among most "expats" after 8 years in Sharjah.
I continued at ABN in Oslo with responsibility for the so-called Bulk goods department - metals, paper and cellulose, together with a couple of others. But I would still keep an eye on Sharjah, a three-week trip every other month. This continued for four years, while Saddam Hussein fired his Scud missiles at Kuwait, Bahrain and Qatar. Fortunately, the rockets could not reach as far as the UAE with a warhead! The flights took major detours so as not to risk contact with rockets or the like. The metal department dealt in aluminum and copper, mainly recycled, and we were represented at the Tehran fair (John Monn and I), but unfortunately nothing came of it, apart from a visit to the Souk, where we were able to buy cheap saffron.
After 6 years at ABN's head office in Oslo, we were contacted by a young man who had an idea to produce industrial packaging based on the principle of egg cartons.
He had already established his company Fibre-Pack. I became involved in the project as marketing manager, traveling around markets and fairs with a glass coffee pot wrapped in a shell made of recycled paper, instead of Styrofoam. I tossed this glass jug around in its packaging for a few months, until one day the packaging had had enough. But we received an inquiry from Volvo for a packaging of one of their more delicate parts. It turned out that they had an annual consumption of 8,000 units, and we had to invest about NOK 30,000 in tools for this part. That would mean that at best we would pay for the tool after 3 ½ years, without getting a penny for wages etc, so we apologized politely. Nokia mobile phones and Electrolux vacuum cleaners were both interested, but they too had far too small ranges for it to be profitable for us, if we were to compete with Isopor. So we bet on "saliva trays", which all doctors' offices and hospitals use in large quantities. The competition was fierce, and we got into a situation, after first receiving an additional capital injection from our owners, but after 2 years of operation the share capital was almost used up, and Morten Fleischer and I had to go the hard way to the bankruptcy court in Tvedestrand and file for bankruptcy. Since I was employed by Fibre-Pack and not Anton B Nilsen, I was now without work for the first time in my life at the age of 57. Fortunately, I had attended the Packaging School earlier in my life, and the head of the school, Yngve Krokann, discovered that I was vacant on the square and called me with an offer of a position as marketing manager at Con-Pack A/S in Hølen. They made plastic packaging for the food industry. Plastic packaging: "ÆRSJ" - I, who all my life had worked with wood fiber in one form or another....
BUT - in times of need, the devil eats flies!
So I was happy that I was employed by A/S Con-Pack in Hølen, about 50 km south of Oslo in the direction of Halden, from 1/10-94.
Con-Pack was owned and managed by Hans Kolberg, and was a small, efficient production company with 8 employees, 5 in production and 3 in administration and sales, so it was a bit like the conditions in Fibre-Pack, but it was plastic after all.. .. Our products were vacuum-shaped bowls and troughs for the food industry, mainly in Norway, but also a little in Sweden to pack sausages, pate, chocolate and other food products. The different forms were produced in series of thousands, packed in cartons and picked up by the customers. My task was to find new customers or food producers, who bought from others, or who had just started up. It would be best if we could use some of our existing molds, because (like Fibre-Pack) new tools were expensive. This created some internal discussions about whether to invest or drop the project.
There was a lot of driving around Norway, from Kristianssand / Stavanger in the south to the north of Trondheim, both along the coast and far in towards the border with Sweden. It paid well with a driving allowance. Ia worked since 1994, after we returned home from Sharjah, at the Canadian Embassy as a secretary. We had sold the SAAB, but kept the Merc. The 100 km daily t/r Hølen drank a lot of high-octane petrol - 12, -13 liters per day. One day I was invited to join a visit near Stockholm and we drove my colleague's Citroën Xantia diesel. It went 1000 km on the tank, which was half the size of the tank on my Merc! It convinced me that it was time to change the car! The savings on fuel amply paid for the financing of the new car in two years, and since then there was money right in the pocket. After three years at Con-Pack, Kolberg wanted to sell the company to a company in Brumundal, and I did not want to be there and resigned as of 31/5-1997. So then I was once again unemployed, after three interesting and instructive years in Hølen.
I was now 59 years old, so I was wondering if there was a job available for an old hunk of junk like me. Ole Ree, Ia's cousin, was in the process of establishing a so-called "Call Centre" at Flisa, which I knew from my stay at the Osen Practical Forestry School in 1958 - 40 years earlier. Ole needed a manager of this call center and asked if I would be involved, some time before I found something permanent. It was a completely new field for me, but it was paid work, so I said yes. It was with Ia's cousin. I had no idea what was going to happen, but spent the weekdays at Flisa (got tired of Pizza after a few weeks) and the weekends in Oslo. It was an exciting six months from July to November 1997, when a whole new world opened up for me. For me, a phone was a phone you called to talk to a person. Yes, you learn as long as you are curious! The call center was established with the telecom operator One Call, and it was almost operational before I got a new job.
I even had the Packaging School to thank for a new job offer. The school competed together with the newly established Materialretur A/S at Skøyen in Oslo. They were looking for a mature marketing manager, with experience from the packaging sector. I visited them, they were three employees, daily manager Dag Kirchoff, a Finnish organizational manager Jaana Røine, who today is Adm. Dir. in the company and Hilde Lieng who was secretary. So I was number 4, and started at the end of November 1997.
This time the work consisted of selling membership in packaging recycling, Materialretur A/S, which was later renamed Grønt Punkt Norge A/S. The member companies, which mainly consist of industrial and commercial companies that package their products, and that pay to Materialretur an amount per unit, which guarantees that this packaging is collected and recycled. The company then has the opportunity to label its packaging with the "Green Dot" label. It was quite challenging in the beginning to convince industry leaders that their membership was in their own interest, and necessary. Materialretur is owned by the manufacturers of corrugated cardboard, milk cartons and other cartons, plastic manufacturers, glass and metal packaging. We quickly gained more employees as the number of members grew, and as the industry became more and more environmentally conscious. It did not happen without help from the authorities. We had a very nice working environment, so it was 7 very interesting and rewarding years until May 2005, when I reached the age limit and became a pensioner. By then we had 14 employees, and now in 2021 they have become 22, and I wish them all the best in the future. It was the end of a working life from 1957 to 2005 - (48 years) which is now history, with great variations in tasks, environments, industries, workplaces etc. I have never dreaded going to work, and consider myself very lucky boy!!!
Ia and I had already in the year 2000 started thinking about where and what we should spend the autumn of life with? Ia's sister, whom I had known since the time in Africa, was still married to her Patrick and they lived in the Loire Valley in France, where we had spent many wonderful holidays. Therefore, France was more tempting than Spain, where we had permanent Norwegian friends, but we were a little afraid of getting into a clique environment that we have read and heard about, from foreign holiday countries.
In the summer of 2000, we visited Benny and Patrick. He took us on a trip to the South of France, to his brother in Montpellier, and further down to the Spanish border at Collioure on the Mediterranean. It was the middle of the wine harvest, and we watched with amazement the grape picking on the very steep vineyards. It was something other than the vineyards in the Loire Valley! Once back at Baulay we thought that, yes, it was tempting to explore further.
In October 2001, Vestheim Rotary Club carried out a trip to Southern France - Provence. It was an intense program of visits to vineyards, historical monuments, Vaison la Romaine, which was severely flooded in 1995. Almost all capitals in Europe, including Oslo, had given a block of their local character to the city, with an inscription, as evidence of an economic support for the reconstruction of the city. We had been tasked with delivering the check from Oslo Municipality. This trip with good friends was another life-giving injection with the thought of our plans for settling in the South of France.
In December 2001 we traveled back to the South of France, all alone! We were based in Nebian, a small village slightly in the hinterland, about 40 km from the coast, for a short two-week exploration of what is called "La Plaine Biterroise" (the Beziers plain). We visited 28 villages and a couple of towns but didn't find what we wanted. We even had to scrape ice off the car one morning, but that didn't scare us.
We traveled back the same year (2002) and visited a further 30 villages in the 14 days we were there. No. 27 in the series was Cazouls les Beziers, on a Thursday. We returned on Sunday to join a guided tour of the village with a historian. Ended with an aperitif with the area's cured meats and wines on the market square. All free. That's when we looked at each other and nodded!
The following Tuesday we returned and asked the estate agent if he had any houses to sell in the village. He answered yes, he had a house, and from the pictures it was a good house. He arranged a visit to the owner the same day, and we fell head over heels for the house, the garden and the swimming pool!
Thursday 26/9 – 2002 we signed a purchase contract for €176,300. The seller was Bernard Martin, who was president of both the Tourist Office and the Artists' Association and a member of the city council. And he became the first of many good friends in the village, over the years. He asked to stay in the house for a year. It was all right, because we couldn't move until 2005. He organized the rental for 2003-2004 to a nice couple who built their own house, and who lived quite far away. On the way home we stopped by Benny and Patrick to show off our new acquisition.
In May we traveled down to formally take over the house from the notary, who thought I was already retired. It was corrected! I had visited the Rotary Club in Beziers, so we were invited to join in the wine harvest with one of the members who was a wine farmer. It was a memorable Sunday, finished with a truffle omelette and plenty of wine! The president drove into the ditch on the way out of the property. In the summer of 2004 we visited our tenants, and I made a short trip to Cazouls in July 2005 to take possession of the glory and to order a car – a red Citroên C4! I happened to be accompanied by Ronald, a Rotary friend from Vestheim who was going down to watch the Tour de France which was passing through the area at the time. The tenants had generously left two beds and a table with folding chairs, so I could invite Ronald to spend the night, as the very first guest in our new house. I took the opportunity to visit the Rotary Club in Beziers, and the Tourist Office in Cazouls, where I was invited to participate in the municipality's 14 July celebration at the stadium. There, Yvette from the Tourist Office had seated me at a table with the entire foreign resident clan and some "migratory birds" with holiday homes in Cazouls. It was a mix of English, Scottish, Dutch, and a Canadian, so the mood grew high as the evening progressed. Various starters, the main course was roast beef on a skewer in front of the entire population! And plenty of drinks, sangria and wine. Everything is free, but you have to pay for water!
I was accompanied home by an English/Dutch couple, and they asked if they could have some of the giant lavender plants that invaded the swimming pool. I was happy, because they covered half the surface of the water. And they returned home with the trunk full of lavender
Finally - 17/9-2005 we moved from Furuveien 38 to Recphares 4! We packed our belongings into boxes with the help of the new owners of the F 38 - Beate and Erik. Thank you very much for the trade, help and goodwill! !
The moving goods arrived a couple of days later with Adam's Express and it all got a place either in the garage (the boxes) or in the house (furniture etc.) with the good help of the driver and his wife. The Citroën had already been delivered, so I could guide the moving van the last bit to Recphares,
The first weeks were spent getting everything in place. Much was placed in the garage. Eventually we met some of the English residents, and a pleasant friendship developed with everyone. <the case would be that all of us 5-6 couples or families had found Cazouls between 2002 and 2004, and had found houses within a circle of 5-600 m. And everyone, including ourselves, thought that here we came to a "back country ” village with only frenchmen ! There were about 4,200 of them.
One day in April, Bernard (former owner of the house) came to visit and asked if we wanted to come down to the artists' association's spring exhibition. He was president of the same association. We accepted, and visited the exhibition which had around fifty exhibitors from, Cazouls and from surrounding villages and towns. The art painting professional asked if I wanted to join the association to participate in the weekly courses for 10-12 other amateur painters. So that was the first step into French society. Ia soon became involved in the mosaic group, and in the pottery group and finally in silk painting, all with weekly meetings, so the week was soon packed, and all the other participants were French, so there was also intense training in French for both of us. I was able to transfer my membership in Rotary from Vestheim in Oslo to Rotary Club Beziers Sud and thereby gained approx. 40 new French friends, and even a weekly meeting. In autumn 2006, the incoming president of the Rotary Club said that for business reasons he could not take up the post as planned. After many inquiries among the club's experienced members, I was asked as a former president of Vestheim if I could take on the position. I pointed to my short stay and membership in the club, but they completely ignored that, so suddenly I got the job as president from 1/7-2007 for a year. Fortunately, I had a board of experienced Rotarians so I had an eventful rotary year.
However, Ia and I still had time for some sightseeing around Languedoc, which has a very interesting history that stretches back to pre-Roman times, to the 4th century, when the Nordic Visigoths slowly flooded through the area and further down into Spain. They left the Nordic countries around 100 AD. And moved with all the cattle from 30 - 100 km per year south through Europe, integrated all the way into the local population, except in Rome, which they defeated in about 400, before coming here, and continued further down into Spain. The Romans came in full force and they left a lasting mark. The name Cazouls comes from the word Casa, which denoted a large farm - lord's seat, which was given to a Roman officer who had made a positive mark, and the name of the place became the name of the village that grew up around the lord's seat. We have a small part of the Via Domitia a couple of km from Cazouls, where you can clearly see the tracks in the mountain bed, worn down by the Roman chariots, It is part of the army road from Rome to Madrid! 1,500 – 1,600 km of paved road to facilitate the Roman armies in their job of building up the Roman Empire. You become quite reverent when you can stick your fingers down and feel the wheel tracks that are almost 2,000 years old.
Otherwise, there are many other attractions, such as amphitheatres, a number of museums with a wealth of household utensils, statues, weapons and more. The amphitheaters are today used for concerts and theater performances in the summer, in Nimes, Arles and Orange, among others.
We had planned to play a lot of golf now that we were retired, on the many golf courses in the area. We tried two or three courses and mostly fell for the course in Lamalou les Bains, a nine-hole course about 25 km from Cazouls, and we played a lot there. But all our activities in the village occupied us so much that it didn't turn out what we had planned. However, I played with Erik when they were here, and with Brian Wilson, one of the "migratory bird" friends from England. And now in the Covid-19 times, nothing has come of it since the end of 2019m and the form is not the same as it was a few years ago. Some of our friends from the painting club invited us to join the Friends of the Organ, which organizes concerts in the church to support the maintenance of the fine 175-year-old organ. Here Ia became deputy secretary after a few years, and I later secretary and in 2019 president for a year, until the Culture Commission in la Mairie took over. And since then it has been quiet because of Covid!
One thing led to another, And during a festival in 2009 in the village, "les Treilles Cazoulines" asked the folk dance association if I would like to dance folk dance and it was and is a fun and physically demanding hobby. Later I became a member (only enjoying) of Degustateurs d'Enserune, wine tasting once or twice a month. Already in 2006, we foreigners were asked if we wanted to join FNACA, the veterans' association from the Algiers War, to be a flag bearer on 8 May, the peace of 1945, 23 August, which is the liberation of Beziers in 1944, and 11 November, which is the peace agreement after the First World War in 1918. And we were all honoured, so now there is a flag castle with flags from England, Scotland, Ireland, Denmark and Norway plus France on these occasions. All the festivities end in the town hall square with the playing of la Marseillaisen and in the Salle polyvalente with snacks and wines with and without bubbles. All paid for by the municipality!
Our good friends, Norwegian Terje and Irish Geraldine, were members of la "Confrerie de Chantegosiers" in Tautavel near Perpignan and asked if we would like to join them. It was an association to support and spread the good wines from Tautavel, so we wanted to and have since celebrated Ia's birthdays at their annual reception ceremony, which is held at the end of March. And this led to a membership in la "Conferie de Gosiers secs" in Vaux en Beaujolais, also called "Clochemerle" after a novel about a mayor and a priest who could not agree on the location of a urinal in the village. It now stands on the square in the village, where the annual reception meeting and party is held.
In April 2012, we joined Fay and Christian on a three-week tour of China. Just the 4 of us by plane via Oslo to Pekin (the northern city). All transport otherwise took place by bus, train or metro. We visited the traditional sights in Beijing: the Forbidden City, Tian An Men Square, the Summer Palace, the Great Wall of China, which Christian's student friend Robert had walked along! (6,000 km) in 18 months. a few years before. We took the night train to Rizhao, about 700 km south of Beijing, on the coast, and a bus to Fay's birthplace Lin Pie, a charming little village. about 100 km from the coast, where we spent four days visiting the sisters' properties, with lunches with sticks, and some Chinese beer and local spirits and nice walks through tobacco plantations, spring onion fields and peanut farms, which are the basis of their cooking oil, such as olive oil here in Europe. They had raised pigs, so it was a versatile use. We also greeted Fay's 5 older sisters. One lived in Beijing, whom we also met there, the other two were married to farmers in the area. Also greeted Papa Chen (83), who was a widower 10 years prior, lived and looked after himself in the village, and came to visit on his three-wheeled bicycle with a loading platform on the back! It was an experience to meet Fay's family, and to be so warmly received by Christian's brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law. And all meals with locally made spirits, beer and taken with sticks. And no one knew a word of English, except a cousin of Fay's, who came to visit. We got a huge bedroom, with a very hard bed.
After four days we returned to Rizhao where we strolled along the beach where Fay and Christian had their engagement photos taken a couple of years earlier. It is a local tradition that is very popular. We continued to Qufu which is the birthplace of Confucius in 551 BC. His university and one of his 550 temples are here, and the Chinese honor his memory by burning fragrant twigs. He was finance minister under the local emperor, but they fell out and Confucius went on a preaching journey of many thousands of km throughout China to spread his philosophy, which to this day characterizes many of the countries of the East.
We went further south to Nanjing (the southern city) where Dr. Sun Yatsen founded the first Chinese Republic in 1912, until the Japanese occupied the city.
Continued to Suzhou, the silk city above anything in China. The invention of silkworm farming dates back to approx. 3000 years BC by Princess Leizu, the emperor's concubine!
We visited a silk spinning factory, and saw the production from cocoon to finished thread and on to products such as shawls, duvets and everything you can imagine. We bought two silk duvets which are used with great pleasure by us in Cazouls in the summer. The neighboring business was a printing house, where we saw color-printed silk cloths, dated 300 BC! Clear colors and sharp contours. Fantastic.
Then came the trip to Shanghai (the city by the sea) where Fay had booked us into the familiar Hanting Hotel, a chain of 996 hotels in China. All rooms were dead the same. We stayed at 6 of them. The room is rectangular, bathroom and toilet in a square room built into the large room, with a glass wall facing the bedroom! One could monitor the partner's visit to the throne! The hotel in Shanghai was right next to 'The Bunt' the famous promenade along the coast with all the luxury hotels, so we were very impressed with the location. I celebrated my 74th birthday with a delicious lunch right under the Shanghai TV Tower, which we had visited in the morning. Viewing platform 250 m above street level, with a glass floor, so there was a strong sucking feeling in the gut when admiring the view. Later we saw the Contemporary Art Museum and the next day we continued by train to Wuhan, which is now quite famous for the emergence of the Corona virus. But we were there 8 years before! There Fay had her aunt Daoxiu, and we met her husband who was a painter, Ang Zhong. Fay went on to university in Beijing, and was recommended to study further in Oslo! And there Fay and Christian met each other and sweet Chinese and Norwegian music arose in their hearts! We visited Ang Zhong's home and admired his large paintings - 1 x 2 m traditional Chinese landscape painting, and got a book with his exhibitions etc. He is known for his landscapes of the Yangtze River and the Three Gorges. We also visited the Wuhan National Museum where they had i.a. the skull of the Yunxian man – 900,000 years old ! It is twice as old as "l'homme de Tautavel" here in the South of France. And the same English archaeologist who took part in the excavations in both places.
We ended the three-week experience trip with another visit to Beijing with a visit to the 798 Contemporary Art Center. It was built into one of East Germany's factory buildings from long before the wall fell (the one in Germany - the Chinese one still stands). It is huge, very versatile, from handicraft work to "Road drum among apples" And as a cultural finale, we visited The Heavenly Garden, which also honored Confucius, before we flew home to Oslo via Helsinki on 24 April.
Big thanks to Fay who had planned it all in detail !!!
The years passed as usual in our small village between the
Mediterranean and the mountains of central France, with association activities
and local sociability. And occasionally with visits from the families in Oslo.
During the Christmas holidays 2013, Fay and Christian came for a very nice
visit via Nice and stayed for a week. And they must have enjoyed themselves,
because exactly 9 months later (September 13) little Nora was born, so we
believe that Nora is "made in France"
Coincidence or fate ??
When they returned to Norway, we packed our bags and went to Prague with Geraldine and Terje for a musical New Year's celebration. Dinner with a Mozart orchestra in full 18th century dress one evening, and the next evening "The Bat" at Prague's National Theater with dinner served in the Foyer between acts.
Apertitif (sparkling wine throughout) before the first act Appetizer with wine, standing buffet before the 2nd act Main course with wine before the 3rd act, which lasted until midnight, and then we were served sparkling wine in our seats, the whole hall, who toasted with "Prosit Neujahr”, and everyone was invited to the New Year's Ball in the covered orchestra pit! A completely unforgettable evening. We went to several concerts, and visited St Mary's Church and the Carolus Bridge before returning to Cazouls;
In November 2013, before we left for Prague, Ia felt unwell, and a visit to the doctor led to a scan at the hospital, where it was established that she had a cancerous tumor in the colon, and that it could not be operated on yet. The doctor did not mind at all that we traveled to Prague and wished us a happy New Year's celebration. In February, Ia received her first series of 6 chemotherapy treatments over two weeks. I had to travel to Canada to participate in my brother Olav's funeral (age 72 ), which was held in the Norwegian sailor's church in Montreal. His children had asked me to scatter the ashes on the St. Lawrence river, according to Olav's own wishes. It happened from a real sailboat that Christopher had hired for the day. Ia was still undergoing the first chemotherapy treatment when I returned. She became weaker after a while, and when Erik arrived at the end of April we had to call for emergency help and she was admitted to the hospital in Beziers for a scan. It showed that she had a metastasis in her brain, which required surgery. The operation on 26/4 in Montpellier went quickly and very well so after a few days of recovery she was transferred to the Clinique Coste Floret in Lamalou les Bains, a center for post-operative care, where she remained for well over a month, recovering wonderfully. Many of our friends from Cazouls and Beziers visited to cheer her up. In the time after discharge from Coste Floret and until October, she was back and forth between home and Montpellier for chemotherapy and a brain scan to check that the brain was free of metastasis. And that was it. It was a quiet Christmas celebration, but we had a visit from Bitten Nouri, Benny's Swedish friend from Tunis, who was a nurse, and she stayed here until it was over, and was a great help. The local nurses said she was so good they wanted to adopt her. Erik and his family were here in mid-January, and Christian and his family came three days before Ia died, and Erik came and stayed for the funeral. It was solemnized in our local church with a couple of hundred of our friends from the village and from Beziers, followed by "le verre d'amitie" with a buffet, organized by our English friends.
Now, after 6 years as a widower, life has pretty much settled down. The first year was very difficult, and I am happy for my many friends from the various activities and for the weekly get-togethers that we have.
Since my years in the scout movement and as a logger, I have always been environmentally conscious, and it was not long after our arrival before we installed 15 solar panels for the production of electricity for sale to our local "Regie Municipale d'Électricité et Eau" a municipal enterprise. It became active from May 2008 and has since brought us between NOK 15 and 20,000 per year, since we get about 5 times as much for our production as we pay for what we buy. It should be said that here in the area the sun shines about 300 days a year. Around 2015, I was contacted by someone who sold panels for "auto-consumption", thereby reducing their own consumption. It was interesting, as the price of electricity was expected to rise by around 5% per year in the future. So I invested in panels and batteries, to be able to store a certain amount of surplus production for use at night. One thing led to the other, and today the house is covered with 17 panels for sale, and 19 for own consumption, so now I am self-sufficient with from 15 to 25% self-produced electricity on an annual basis, plus the sale of electricity to la Régie covers the electricity bill by the way.
When Ia died, it was our local Notary, who also formalized the purchase of the house in 2003, who did what is done in Norway by the probate court. There were several options for me, and the easiest and safest was to transfer the property to Ia's and my heirs, and stay at "Jouissance" myself - i.e. I live for free in the house that the boys cannot sell until I ask for it, or die, But all taxes and duties and maintenance fall on old grandfather, for now .....
In 2020, when Covid-19 threw social life around, and which is still ravaging in 2021, all courses, concerts, gatherings etc. came to an end and it will continue for the time being for quite some time to come. Some counties have a total lock-down for several weeks to come, so we hope for the vaccine.
I have clipped together a few photos from my life, which I am adding as a conclusion - so far.
TM, Cazouls, January 2021
Christian Mogensen / +47 97 74 15 77 — Erik Mogensen / +47 93 05 41 70