29 August to 2 September: Trondheim and Bergen
We wanted to travel north in Norway, but we knew we would not have enough time to go as far as the Arctic Circle, so our furthest north in this trip was Trondheim; but we have been so impressed by Norway and Norwegians that we will certainly return. There is a definite twinkle in the Norwegian eye and a friendliness that is quite different from the quiet of the Finns or the rather driven air of the people we saw in Stockholm. We wonder what the Danes are like, but the Nordic obsession with trolls certainly reaches for the quirky button as one goes westward. We’ve been told all sorts of stories, including that high voltage power lines are actually electric fences to keep the trolls in the hills.
Oslo had charmed us, and the stories we were told by guides and others have convinced us that a winter journey would be quite the experience. The bucket list never gets shorter. Trondheim was interesting, but in late summer probably only worth a couple of days. The weather was beautiful, however, and we enjoyed a couple of mild summer days as we wandered around the town. We didn’t take a guided tour this time, and probably would have struggled to find one, as our first day was a Saturday and nothing opened until 11 am.
As an historian, I was interested to get a sense of the topography of the area, as the Second World War had certainly left its mark here. The Admiral Hipper arrived on 9 April 1940 after sinking HMS Gloworm after the latter’s heroics, so the locals awoke to a German flotilla on their doorstep. The Todt Organisation used slave labour to construct the Dora submarine pens, and the Tirpitz spent years parked in the fjord near the airport. I’ve pencilled in a bit of research on the activities of the Anzac Wing around the Norwegian coast and I am sure that the war diary will show that there are some Australians still lying in the waters in this area.
The highlight of the visit (apart from some deadly local craft brews) was the Cathedral, known as the Nidaros Cathedral from the towns old name which was associated with the local river. It was a royal church before the Swedes and the Danes took over, and the Reformation wasn’t kind to the building, as there was some significant iconoclasty and the financial security of the building was lost, but what remains is a sympathetic Lutheran interpretation from the mid-19th Century that is stunning. There are relics and arefacts from what we tend to call the Viking era, and Victorian recreations of medieval stained glass; but it is a working liturgical building and has modern elements as well, including two organs, one baroque and one beautiful modern instrument.
It was a shame that we had to resort to air travel to get to Bergen. We had investigated a ferry trip but it was unreasonably expensive and we took the easy way (road and rail were very time-consuming). That was probably wise as Scandinavia has proved to be very expensive, especially when it comes to eating out. Food is high quality wherever we have been, but whenever we have had to pay, it has been very expensive and it has certainly blown the budget. But it has been worth it just to glimpse the edges of this beautiful part of the world, and I’m sold, as I said, on the friendliness of the Norwegians.
Bergen was a very different place, very much a supply base for North Sea oil and gas rigs, the harbour full of huge tenders with those strange X-bows and landing platforms above the bridge, while cruise ships parked themselves in convenient places to vomit out four- or five thousand passengers for the briefest of days trips. On our second day, it seemed like a an English retirement home had been parachuted onto the Bryggen, the old Hanseatic trading area. ‘Ooh, I do like their cinammon buns’ — ‘They make a nice cup of tea, dear, just like home’… The invaders descended on the souvenir shops, whose proprietors collaborated faster than Quisling did in 1940.
The highlight of our time, and perhaps of the trip so far, was a cruise north into the fjord. The scenery was the sort which conjures Scandinavia and Vikings and what-not, even though neither image is particularly true. The deep, steep-sided fjord changed from industrial to suburban to wild in the space of half and hour. Some of Bergen is reminiscent of Sydney’s eastern suburbs, but once beyond the suspension bridge one of soon in a world of tiny farms and holiday homes.
It would have been wonderful if the weather has cooperated, but Bergen is where the Gulf Stream hits Europe, so while it is warmer that most of Norway, it rains 250 days a year. Standard Bergen dress is smart hiking or active-wear. Haut couture is an Archteryx or North Face jacket with expensive waterproof shoes. It is an interesting combination of world heritage, working town, amazing geography and friendly locals. Needless to say, it would be a good place to revisit.
Among our discoveries were the funicular to the Floien (apologies to Norwegians everywhere for not learning how to use proper typography), one of the hills above the city, which has not one but to early learning centres. When we arrived to take the funicular to the top for a hike, we were squeezed into the last half of the train because the front half was full of about thirty little Norwegians in the inevitable outdoor gear on their way to school with the teachers. Equally significant was the world’s greatest hot dog stand, noted for its reindeer sausages with staff that completely refuse to use the improper condiment on a particular sausage.
Our time in Scandinavia has come to an end and its time to take stock. We would revisit Oslo, but the sense is that we want to see more of the rest of the three nagions’s countryside. The Arctic Circle beckons, for sure, and winter might be a time to experience a very different kind of holiday. Next is the two flights to Aberdeen and the ferry to our Sherland Adventure.
