Tour Stavanger

15871635_1300791173324301_974713417358624560_nWelcome to Stavanger!

My name is Silje Isabel and I am very interested in practicing languages and sharing the culture of my country and my city. I’m not a qualified guide as I don’t have license, but since I grew up here I have a lot of knowledge about the region.

WHAT’S IN THE TOUR?

Come join me and discover the secrets of Stavanger with the Tour of Stavanger city. The Tour starts at Stavanger Cathedral and ends in the charming Old city of Stavanger. Please sign up at the bottom of this page or send me a message through the Facebook page. I promise it will be exciting!

 

DURATION

1 hour and 30 minutes

 

WHO?

Look for the guide with a green sign.

HIGHLIGHTS:

  • Stavanger Cathedral
  • Arneageren
  • Fargegata
  • Valbergtårnet
  • The Geopark
  • Vågen
  • & The old city

 

WHERE AND WHEN?

The Tour of Stavanger City starts on time at 10.00 AM from the 7th of June to the 10th of August.   NB: Week 28- 29 I will not be available to guide. 

 * The guided tour is based on donations and will only take place if there are at least 4 participants. 

** The Tour is available in English or Spanish.

***Tours in Stavanger are aimed at individual visitors. Groups of 10 or more should book a private tour and are subject to a 5 € or 50 kr per person charge.

Have a nice day 🙂

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Power through

Is it true that women are from Venus and men from Mars? I think I put having a relationship on hold because I thought so. I thought we were very different, but are we? Of course there are physiological differences, but we all feel and want to share what’s happening in our lives. I used to despise men, thinking everybody’s a prostitute-using asshole (like my dad). Most guys I’ve met in my life have tried to put me down, but I always power through. I’ve never let a man not know that he’s undermining me. I guess I’m kind of a feminist.

Recently my uncle told my mother that I should delete this blog (in his mind ”protecting” me from not getting any jobs in the future, and he didn’t see any point in writing it). A lot of men in my life feel threatened by me and say things to make me feel bad about myself, and leaving me feeling used. They can say whatever they want; I’m not going to remove my voice. And yes, I want my voice to be heard because a lot of people suffer in their personal lives. Family issues are quite common and I want to speak out, not feeling ashamed about it so that things still stay taboo. What I talk about (when I write about my personal life) happen to a lot of people: anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, violence. The list is long. But I’m so happy that I’ve mostly gotten supporting comments. I don’t need people’s pity, I want people to understand and be understanding of people’s struggles in their daily life. I’m telling you: your wounds will heal.

My Reality

I’ve fought hard to get to where I am now, but sometimes I think how great it would be not having to fight anymore. A lot of people which I try to keep out of my life follow me like ghosts, and contact me whenever they feel like it, making me feel baffled and shocked over their next move.

My dad contacted me the day I got accepted to go to art school, I was so happy earlier and then very surprised to se him leaving me a message in my inbox on Facebook. I haven’t seen him in two years, and the last time he tried to contact me was in March, when my sister told me he had gotten married and that I now have a baby brother (who’s now 6 months I think). I told him to go to hell. This time he wrote something stupid like “Accept this kind request and my wish is to follow whatever you say attentively. Sincerely, the loony” After consulting my older sister we decided to ask for the money he promised to give us 5 months ago. He answered me by writing one of his stupid jokes and said because I had been acting badly I wouldn’t get anything, but my younger sister would. Right there he was saying ‘I had no right to be upset that my 60 year old father didn’t tell me I’ve got a brother or that he got married’. I told him he could go to hell and that he wasn’t my father or my other sister’s father, and that I have a new one. I told him to never write to me again, never. He seems to have this amazing ability to fuck you over when you least expect it. I’m done with that, I don’t want his money, and he’s never helped me out with anything financially. I helped me out, and it was our mother that provided for us when we were children. He’s so greedy. When my sisters met him in Norway one of them asked him: is it hard taking care of the baby? He laughed and said: Yes, for her (his wife)…

Suffering with your self

I randomly watched this somewhat cheesy American TV show Dr. Phil, and there was this anorexic girl on it and she was starving herself to death. After coping with a heavy depression and suicide attempts I know that what you’re feeling is often portrayed though other channels such as eating disorders, self-harm or just loosing control of your body. It was quite hard the intervention they had with the girl, but sometimes that’s what you need. I had it with myself, I was so sick and tired of the life I had it was either die or continue on an unknown path. I chose the last one. It was hard and it’s not something you can fix in an instant, but you can’t live on a diagnosis you have to continue without it and not define yourself as it. It’s easy to avoid reality when you have a disorder, but it’s not worth it and you’ll never become whole doing so.  I did so many things when I was a kid, I starved myself (I tried to be bulimic, but I was bad at it as I couldn’t force myself to throw up) I self-injured myself by cutting my arms sometimes legs, I ran away planning on living in the woods; I had lots of weird solutions to my “problem”. The problem was that I thought I was a bad person. My grandmother says bad things happen to bad people, so I believed it and blamed myself. But you reach a point where it’s make it or break it, and I made it. I realized that I had some people who believed in me and had my back, and they held me up while others tried to break me down. I’m not going to list the people that made my life miserable because I’m over it; I’ve cut them out of my life. Sometimes you’ve got to be harsh and kick out the bad (by not giving them a 100th chance) and let new people into your life.

Do YOU think I’m weak for crying?

When I was little my father said to me only weak people cry. I only saw him cry once, that was in my grandfather’s funeral. If I talk too long to anybody about my Grandfather I start to cry, because he was like a father to me. Before I never cried in front of anybody, I was ashamed of doing it. I felt weak because I wanted to cry all the time. I usually cried in my sleep so nobody would hear, I felt invisible. I especially don’t like men seeing me cry, because I hate to feel like weak woman who needs a guy to rescue her. My father has seen me cry, and for a long time the only other man who’d seen me was my therapist. The third person was actually the tour guide of the Spanish school I was studying at. Me and another woman watched a movie called “Camino”. At the end he came into the room and explained more about it, and I just couldn’t stop the tears from falling, stroking my blushing cheeks. I felt a bit embarrassed.

I don’t know why it’s like that, that you can’t cry. I cry if I see a sad movie, or if I see a happy movie. I cry happy tears and sad tears.

You know the saying “crying your heart out” I’ve felt it. At one point in my life I was so hurt I felt like dying. It’s a horrible feeling that I don’t wish anyone to experience.

I am an emotional person, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong about it. It’s better to cry and get comfort than to cry in the darkness alone.

L for Live, L for Life

For many years I thought I was dead. I didn’t live the life I was meant to.  When you’re a child you have no control of what’s going to happen to you. And growing up with a psychopath doesn’t exactly leave your mental state very stable.  I was depressed, anorexic, suicidal and I self-harmed myself. I’ve been through most of the mental “illnesses”. A lot of people feel uncomfortable talking about psychological issues, and a lot don’t like to hear what is the reality for some people. I think people need to know. I’ve struggled for most of my life feeling I’ve been carrying a dark secret, a secret that society doesn’t like to talk about. Mine was being a victim of physical and emotional abuse.  I don’t like being pitied it kind of makes me angry, because by pitying me you make me a victim. And I’m not a victim. I found the courage to fight the injustice I was put through, and fight through the depression that came as a result of it.

While going to therapy a “friend” asked me, “Aren’t you going stop seeing your therapist soon? You seem fine” That’s when I found out that many still think depression is a disease, and a disease has a cure. Depression has no cure. You can look for it forever, but you’ll never find one. I’ve tried so many things, I’ve tried pills, I thought that if I just got a super best friend that it would solve it, or if I got a boyfriend or if I became a yoga teacher, the list goes on and on. A cure doesn’t exist. It’s like starting from scratch; you have to find out who you are, what you like, and what you want in life. Being purely egocentric, not letting the depression and emptiness take control. When you are in control of yourself, realizing you can’t change those around you, you start to mend the acing holes in your heart.

When I finally finished high school I realized I was actually in charge of my own life, I could do whatever I wanted. Nobody had the power to suppress me anymore. I kind of felt invincible, I had already reach bottom. What else could happen to me now? I guess I was a bit bold in the beginning, because I didn’t think of the consequences. I didn’t mind if something happened to me that would take my life. I never thought about growing old, doing what grownups do. I never thought life would be bearable. But reality has hit me, hard. By experiencing my grandfather die from cancer, my best friend and my substitute-dad, has in a way given me a lot of respect for death. Time is short, and personally I want to live it to the fullest. I just want to live my life, the way I want to live it.

One birthday and a dead grandmother

My birthday was the 22nd of November, like it is each year. This year while turning 21 my grandmother died. Am I sad? The answer is no. The truth is I only met her twice in my life, once when I was a baby and she taught me how to walk, which I did on my first birthday. The second time was two years ago when I travelled alone to Peru to meet my family, for what felt to me like the first time.  I think she loved seeing me again, but the more I learned about my family the more I learned about why my father became who he is. My grandmother didn’t have a lot of empathy and was very stubborn, like my father.  She didn’t say goodbye to me when I was going back to Norway because I was living with her brother, and they obviously had some unresolved business. I never really liked birthdays anyway. My family has had so many problems that our birthdays were neglected. My mother though always makes the best out of it. She’s always there, my sister too, when the rest of the family doesn’t care. I’m used to not being remembered by my father, he doesn’t bother. I was supposed to be a boy. My last birthday my grandmother gave me a book about a girl that “changed for the better”, and stopped practicing the dangerous art of Yoga and found the way of God. She thinks my travels are dangerous and that I should become a missionary. Because everybody knows that yoga, communism or what ever is sinful. Why can’t family just be supportive?

I wish that someday I will be truly happy for being born, but I guess I’m not there yet. I’ve experienced a lot and I love life now, but the ghosts of my past are still haunting me, and it’s hard to let go and forgive.