Bergen

The theatre

Bandstand (the Norwegians seem to be as fond of them as the Brits)

Harbour side

Bergen, we were told, was likely to be wet. According to one seasoned traveller, it rains in Bergen 300 days of the year. Surrounded by seven hills and seven fjords, it could be a Norwegian Manchester, so we prepared for the worst.  But Bergen was a flighty, capricious miss, and as it turned out, Karen got sunburned. 

We landed, and as Jane Austen would have said, the group tour had 'delighted us enough' and we set out alone for the panoramic views at the top of the Floibanen, or the funicular climing to the top of Mount Floyen.  Even with a pre-paid ticket to 'skip the line' at 9.30 in the morning, we waited a good 25 minutes for a funicular to the summit. It was absolutely worth the wait.

 

Mount Floyen is a hiking trail, a place to walk the dog, a playground for children, a place to bike from and also - a place to show goats. The one on the table below seemed perfectly happy - in fact, Karen could swear she heard it purring.

We stayed for a couple of hours (with coffee and a delicious waffle) before suddenly realising that we only had until 3pm to explore and so we headed down, feeling blessed with everything we had. Including the weather.

Next stop was St Mary's Church, the oldest existing building in Bergen (12th century) and frankly, a delight.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Rather jolly, we thought. As Apocalypses go.

From the church, we headed towards the harbour and Bryggen, the oldest part of the city. Although interested, we gave the Hanseatic Museum a miss, and wandered instead the streets which mirrored it.

We ended up with a salmon sandwich from the fishmarket....

...and a truly lovely glass of rose in the Mathallen (food hall). But truly, we didn't have enough time to explore Bergen properly - let alone the museums or the galleries we might have wanted to see.  The harbour was a glorious place on this lovely sunny day, filled with people, eating, drinking and astounded at the price of everything. 

One thing we wanted to mention before we leave Bergen - more street art.  Some of it with a political message. Examples below:

 

 
Some more benign, and just generally pretty:

And one, which completely threw Karen. I mean, who expects to find Tennyson scrawled on a wall?