4. Bergen
The next morning I had my ‘Titanic’ moment that I’d been promising myself. No, we weren’t about to run into an iceberg or even Leonardo Di Caprio, though Kate Winslett would have been nice. After breakfast I went out on deck and walked up to the bow (or as near as I could get). There was no-one about. It had been a particularly hot summer, which I hate. For me it’s torture not to be able to escape hot temperatures – when it’s cold all you have to do is go indoors and it’s over. When it’s hot it’s just hot everywhere, for as long as it lasts, days, weeks – sheer hell. Anyway, I’d been dreaming, during the heat, of being on the boat like this, sailing up the North Sea with the fresh sea breeze in my face, filling my lungs with beautiful cool air. I stood there with my arms outstretched as the sea scudded along beneath, feeling like I was flying, just like Kate. Unfortunately, the rush of the wind prevented me from hearing the footsteps of the inevitable jogger, in this case a tiny American lady.
The words, ‘Are you okay?’ almost gave me heart failure, made me jump, cough
and turn bright red all within the space of a second. ‘Yes, fine, I was just
taking the air,’ I said, desperately hoping that she hadn’t seen Titanic. ‘That’s
okay then,’ she said without the slightest trace of amusement and set off
on her laps of the deck again. Presumably she thought it was some sort of
exercise. From then on I resumed a rather more normal posture, hands firmly
stuffed into pockets. I stood there for quite a while until finally, on the
horizon, some sort of land appeared. It was the first of many islands that
we encountered off the south coast of
It was after lunch when we finally reached the mainland. I was now on the top deck, jostling for space with the more serious photographers. Most of them were German and seemed to be sporting the latest super state of the art digital cameras that look like you’d need a mortgage to buy. A few of them gave me superior looks as I fitted the zoom lens on my ‘old fashioned’ SLR (my motto – if it still does the job it ain’t old fashioned). One man in particular grinned at me and held up his specimen for me to see, then started spouting German at me. I told him loudly in English that I didn’t understand and he looked at me even more pityingly, but at least it had shut him up.
We were actually entering our first fjord, this being the one which leads to Bergen. It’s not a very characteristic fjord, being very broad and with relatively low hills surrounding it. It’s still quite picturesque all the same, and a hush descended over our group as we clicked away, eager to capture our first experience of Norwegian terrain. Soon there were little houses dotted about, then villages, then towns. The brightly painted wooden buildings sit well in the landscape and make excellent focal points for the camera. The only problem was that the best view kept changing sides as we moved along, so every now and then there was a great stampede from port to starboard, or vice versa, which resulted in several people tripping over the sun loungers that were scattered about the deck. I managed to circumvent this by standing on a bit of raised bulkhead at the rear of the deck which gave me equal access to both sides. It was a bit precarious, but what I lacked in state of the art digital equipment I’d more than made up for with a bit of old fashioned improvisation.
The best part of this fjord is saved until last, this being the city of Bergen itself. The fjord comes to a halt against a set of sharply rising hills that are scattered with numerous houses and equally numerous trees. The main part of the city nestles at the foot of these hills, the dockside lined with old fishing warehouses, painted in yellows, reds and greens, which have now been largely re-born as shops and cafés. It’s an extremely attractive sight as you approach by boat, ignoring the odd bit of industry here and there, and one that sailors must have welcomed for hundreds of years.
Bergen is
Once docked we finally set foot on Norwegian soil (well, tarmac) before being whisked off in a coach for the typically frantic city tour. You really do have to keep your wits about you to gain any half-decent impression of a place on these trips – it’s all too easy just to sit back and let it wash over you. Fortunately we didn’t stay on the coach all the time; our guide took us on a couple of walks which helped immensely. The first was through the area of old warehouses by the docks, known as Bryggen. It transpired that these had also served as workshops and accommodation in the past and were at their height in the days of the Hanseatic League. This was a kind of trading co-operative started in Germany in the 1200’s which spread around the Baltic working for its members’ mutual benefit across national boundaries. It lasted in Bergen until the mid 1700’s during which time the merchants more or less controlled the city.
The streets have a medieval feel to them here, though I was still getting used to so many buildings made of wood rather than the brick and stone that I’m accustomed to. Wood, once painted and preserved, is much more timeless. If it rots or weathers it can easily be replaced. Brick and stone carry their years with them which imbues them with a sense of history. It would be very hard to date these buildings just by looking at them – some of them actually look quite modern. I suppose basic wood architecture doesn’t change much over the centuries, though none of these buildings were original in any case, fire having taken its toll on numerous occasions. The most attractive are those which line the harbour and which feature in all the postcards of the city and no doubt the travel brochures too.
During this walk we also passed a rather curious excavation. Remains of the Viking settlement had been discovered, dug and laid bare, then had a very transparent café built around them. We peered in through the numerous and large windows to see that a transparent floor had been installed over the top of the excavation so that you could peer down on it while drinking your coffee. Apart from this novelty, further excitement had apparently been created during the excavation when some Viking coinage had been found. The type of coins indicated that they had been intended for use in foreign trade; here was proof after all that the Vikings were actually quite civilised and not just the bunch of horn-hatted rapists and pillagers that history would have us believe.
The second walk took us along one of the main streets, still in the harbour area, which led to a funicular. This is quite a modern affair that whisks you quickly up the hillside and it’s only then that you realise how high these hills are. The panorama at the top is spectacular and provides a clear view of the scope of Bergen and its situation at the end of the fjord. Our boat wasn’t much more than a small black and white blob in the docks way below. The locals come up here mostly to go off for walks in the wooded hilltops which unfortunately we didn’t have time to even contemplate, never mind execute. Ten minutes later we were making the return funicular journey and were soon standing back down in the street again.
It then started to rain quite hard, which was very annoying as I had determined
to go my own way from here to take some ‘unguided’ photos at my leisure and
have a pleasant walk back to the boat. Instead I clambered back onto the
coach with everyone else to be whizzed around the suburbs with accompanying
statistics about
Our boat sailed again after dinner that evening at about nine, by which time
it was well and truly dark. The lights of the city now sparkled in a clamour
at the bottom of the hills, thinning quickly as the eye scanned upwards to
pitch black at the top. It was all very pretty and served to reinforce the
overall impression I’d got of Bergen. In the main it’s a very
attractive place with a pleasant atmosphere and certainly one that I wouldn’t
mind returning to at some point. I’d love to explore the old warehouses and
the little back streets in my own time; I’d certainly love to take the funicular
and then go off for a walk in the hills with a picnic (and probably a large
umbrella); I’d love to try some of the little cafes and restaurants that
we passed by with hardly a second glance. It had certainly provided a tantalising
introduction to
1. Dover
2. Ijmuiden
3. Cuxhaven
4. Bergen
6. Trondheim
7. Olden - the Briksdal glacier
9. Stavanger