I’m really glad I didn’t miss Bergen. The old town of wooden houses in city center alone is worth a visit. It’s kind of like Greenwich Village in New York, where the grid breaks down and streets curve crazily every which way (and there’s also a hill in Bergen to complicate), as if responding to old traffic pattern needs we no longer understand.
Beautiful city, but would not want to be here in summer when the cruise ships unload.
Sometimes it can be a fun game to guess what a foreign word means. What do you think goes on in here? I have no idea.
The modern crossing sign features robot man.
Hungry? Let’s save some money and stop at this simple fast food stand for a bite.
Let’s see. I’ll take a large burger, fries, and a coke. That’ll be $35. No. Really.
The older crossing sign features a dashing business man with a hat.
Our hero rides again. Allez!
See this color? It’s everywhere in Norway. Lovely.
For reasons I have not yet divined, outside of Oslo what I am calling the “pennant” seems to be used instead of the square cross you would recognize as the Norwegian flag.
The National Stage (as opposed to the National Theatre, which is in Oslo) with the obligatory statue of Ibsen.
No trace here of the fictionalized smiling Ibsen displayed in those postcards in Oslo. Here’s the Ibsen we know and love: ornery and crazed. Looks like the sculptor said “Think of Strindberg, and now imagine he’s more famous than you” to get the appropriate glare.
Unfortunately, most of the theatre on in places I have visited has been stuff like this.
A big one. One of the biggest.
In a gray landscape, color leaps out.
The Ibsen shelf at the Bergen library.
Meanwhile, our hero hits the evening commute.
Good design means – the pedestrian comes first.
I am green, and I like it here, and so I think I shall cover your land.
Ever vigilant, our hero glides into the frame.
If you look closely, you will find a future hero.
There he goes! Ride swiftly, comrade.
And remember – it snows here.