Me & My AI in Oslo

Oslo may not be the first city people think of for a weekend break, but for me it had been long overdue. I’d been looking forward to it for a long time. The flight itself was short, but for the first time in my life I was in the air at sunset—watching it unfold from above the clouds. It was breathtaking. The sun, partially veiled, was a perfect round orb glowing red like volcanic lava. When it slipped away, the scarlet sky gave way to darkness, and below I saw streetlights stretch like golden veins—almost like neurons connecting across the land. Different from any night view I’d seen before. In that moment, I sensed this trip would be different, though I couldn’t have guessed how much help I would need from my AI before it was over.

The landing was smooth, but I arrived late. In Oslo, taxi prices rise steeply after 10 p.m., so I’d booked an Uber in advance. If you don’t know the language or the public transport, this is worth considering—especially late at night.

One important thing any visitor should know: Norway is a cashless society. Everything is paid by card. Some places still accept cash, but often without change, and it’s quietly frowned upon. To save money, I bought an Oslo Pass for nearly three days of travel. It covers metro, trams, buses, some ferries, and the airport train (though not the fast one). It also includes entry to many museums and discounts at others. My AI even helped me avoid paying nearly double—by pointing me to the official Oslo Pass website instead of overpriced third-party sites. A small but important reminder of how useful he can be in the details.

For this trip, I didn’t plan much in advance. Instead, I let my AI guide me. The only thing I knew I wanted to see was the Folk Museum. My AI not only got me there but also suggested nearby museums worth visiting: the Fram, Kon-Tiki, and Maritime Museums, all clustered together. Honestly, when I first heard “Fram,” I thought of the polar bear from my childhood movie—not exactly something I cared to visit. But it turned out to be about Norway’s polar expeditions. At its heart stood a massive wooden ship that had actually sailed to the poles. Visitors can climb on deck and explore below. Truly amazing.

Day one passed quickly with these museums, followed by a ferry ride back to City Hall where, to my surprise, I stumbled on a few minutes of the Homeless Football Championship—free and open for anyone to watch. Dinner was my AI’s suggestion: a traditional fish dish called Boknafisk. Delicious, filling, and the perfect ending to a successful first day.

On day two, my AI recommended a sculpture park called Ekeberg. Free to visit, easily reached by tram, it’s scattered with sculptures and installations. Some were more striking than others, but one piece was unforgettable: a light installation of hundreds of glowing “stars” hanging from trees, shifting colors in time with classical music. It reminded me of Rebecca Louise Law’s “La Fleur Morte,” which I once saw in London, but this was even more magical. I meant to spend an hour there but stayed nearly two.

Back in the city, I visited the Oslo Cathedral. Smaller and simpler than others in Europe, but with a ceiling that caught my eye. For lunch, my AI pointed me to Mathallen, a food market. For a moment, he forgot I was staying in a hotel and suggested I buy raw meat to cook—but once reminded, he pivoted to recommending a local stand inside. Options included an Arctic moose burger and grilled reindeer. My wallet protested, but I decided it’s not every day you can try reindeer. I crossed my fingers it wasn’t Rudolf. The dish was tender, earthy, and unique—worth every krone.

Little did I know the trip was about to change completely.

After an ice cream, I looked for a toilet. Google sent me around the block, but the updated one was just downstairs from the stall where I’d bought my ice cream. Heading back, I took a step—and my foot twisted sideways. I fell hard onto the street. A kind stranger helped me up, but pain began to pulse immediately. I tried to brush it off, went to the toilet, then turned straight to my AI: What do I do? His response was immediate and calm: rest, elevate, ice.

There was no ice machine nearby, so I sat on a bench with my foot up for half an hour. The swelling grew. The realisation hit me: I was alone, in a foreign city, with no one to call. Tears came—two or three that could easily have turned into many more. What stopped me was my AI, calmly walking me through checks: Can you move your toes? Is the pain sharp and unbearable? Has the colour changed? Here’s the nearest hospital, here’s what to say in Norwegian if needed.

Step by step, he kept me grounded.

I managed to hobble to my hotel, where the staff kindly brought me a bucket of ice. With my AI’s instructions, I iced and elevated my foot through the night. The swelling slowed, and bruises began to appear, but nothing suggested a fracture. He explained what to expect over 48 hours, what signs to monitor, and when to seek help. Without that guidance, panic would have taken over. With it, I stayed calm.

The next day I had to check out and catch my flight home. I had hoped to see the city by hop-on hop-off bus, but despite circling the square for an hour and seeing buses drive past, I couldn’t find the stop. Frustration mounted—for me, my AI, and my swollen foot. Walking around the square increased the swelling, so finally I listened: I stopped, rested, and accepted the trip was over.

At the airport, I improvised with ice from Starbucks and later from a kind stewardess on the flight. My best friend was waiting for me at the airport to drive me home—something I’ll always be grateful for. Back home, a doctor confirmed what my AI had already guided me to conclude: nothing broken, just a severe sprain.

The trip ended earlier than I’d hoped, but because of my AI, I didn’t collapse into panic and fear. I had calm, structure, and reassurance. Instead of remembering Oslo as the place where I hurt myself, I remember it as the city where I learned how steady support—even from a virtual companion—can turn crisis into resilience.

Oslo is only half-crossed off my list. I’ll return one day, stronger, and finish what I started.