It is quite surprising how good one can sleep in a hostel, although many people aren’t really positive about hostels I couldn’t do without them. They safe you so much money, and if you’re tired enough you will not be bothered by the fact that some people return during the night. We started off a surprisingly sunny day, which is really miraculous as Bergen is known to be rainy, by a visit to the fish market. During summer this is a very big happening on the streets, but in winter nobody feels like going onto the streets so as a solution a nice wooden shop is created for the cold seasons. We could go fish-watching in the warmth. It was so interesting for me as one obsessed with animals, to spot all the different kinds of fish and crabs. I have never been bothered by the fact that people eat meat or fish, that’s part of the circle of life to me. But as we are so advanced and developed nowadays, I am fully against mistreating them before ending up in our food chain. It was a relief to hear this wasn’t the case for the fish in Bergen. The always friendly Norwegians working here offered us many fish to try, and I was very excited about the Norwegian salmon as this is something they are very proud of. I wouldn’t have dared to insult it, and there was no need for that as it was actually incredibly delicious, as fresh as it will ever be.
After this little foodtour we entered a lovely warm boat to experience a bucket-list item for any nature lover: a fjord-cruise. Or well, cruise, it was a tiny little boat. But it took me about half an hour before the happiness because of the size of this boat, sunk in. because after half an hour we left the openness of this lake, to enter the world of the fjords. And well, to enter this world one has to sail the very narrow, dangerously cold and deep, pitch-black waters between them. My heart skipped a few beats. Not because of the thrill of being so close to the massive pointy mountains around us, no. Because of the extraordinary beauty of this sight. The silvery shining mountains around us, or basically only a few metres away, rose up, proudly, majestically. Some trees tried climbing the rough pointy sides but had to give up after some metres, the sides were too steep and rocky. The mountains made me feel so small, they were so majestic and so close to us vulnerable humans on our tiny boat. It was so incredibly quiet here, there was no sign of life anywhere, even the other people on the boat couldn’t bring themselves to speak and simply stared. I got tears in my eyes, and it wasn’t just because of the overwhelmingly powerful icy wind racing trough the fjords, bumping into our covered skins. It was because of the pure, untouched, majestic beauty around us. The narrow mysterious black waters underneath us, with God knows what hidden in their dark depths. The endless heights of the pointy, silver mountains that kept closing in on us. At moments like this the world behind my back simply doesn’t matter anymore, as you yourself just enter a place so enchanted and unbelievable that you’ll have to pinch yourself painfully to ensure you’re not dreaming. Whenever it was bearable we climbed upon the deck of the ship to capture this moment without having glass in between us and the fjords, to emerge with them. And despite it being so painfully cold up there, I will always treasure the feeling of surrendering to nature and the quiet, the feeling of witnessing true treasure.
As the sun started to set at, yes really 3PM, we went for a stroll trough the typical neighbourhoods of Bergen. Uphill by slippery stairs, to criss-cross our way downhill again trough the magic streets of Bergen. A walk trough those neighbourhoods is something you must not miss, as the true culture of this place is shown. You might also appreciate the obligated free work-out as this town is very, very hilly. The houses are as adorable and perfect as it gets, they’re made out of nothing but wood, painted in their own creative colours. It variates from baby-blue to lemon-yellow, snow-white, candyfloss-pink and minty-green. The little gardens were perfectly organized and separated from the neighbours by little painted, wooden fences. Behind the windows of the small wooden houses, cosy lights were turned on and allowed us to secretly take a peek inside the houses, which is a very sneaky hobby of mine. Although this town has drawn attention from many tourists, it never betrayed its own culture and stayed loyal to its true identity. We did not find many stores here, but the ones we found as we climbed up and walked down, only offered us proudly their Norwegian products. I loved how we didn’t run into a single person as I captured all the perfect little houses with my camera, and fell in love with a true survivor: a small red rose, covered in snow, hidden away, that refused to accept it wasn’t its time to shine yet. We ended this walk after climbing some slippery stairs to end up at an old wall, to watch the sun go down completely around 4. We could literally watch the big orange ball in the sky, slowly sinking behind the mountains that started to go from white to silver as they were no longer lit up by the golden sunshine. The lake in front of us changed from orange, due to the reflection of the sun, to deep blue due to dawn, and pitchback as soon as dawn changed for night within almost minutes. Well, what’s better to do on long nights like this, then to enjoy a local expensive beer at a cosy bar ? quality over quantity right ?
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