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The meadow among the mountains

August 31, 2011

is what Bergen (or the Old Norse – love that language! – Bjørgvin means…)

On my second day here I went in search of the famous Bergen funicular. I missed it on the ascent so just kept on climbing. This is a one minute rendering of the best bits of that walk into the Norwegian woods:

So in case you couldn’t tell from my camera handiwork or were distracted by the aural improvised effects here’s the view from the top of that hill (mountain – in fact one of the mountains which surround the meadow of Bergen):

I also found this mushroom growing out of the base of an upturned tree (and then I found a lake, red ribbon tied round three trees and more places from which to see beautiful scenes but if I put all those photos in then I’m going to feel too much like my father so I’ll have to make do with this curious mushroom):

This is my packed lunch which I made yesterday and I have a very similar one for today. It comes courtesy of my mother’s money-saving wisdom and the generosity of the hotel’s breakfast buffet. Otherwise – because it’s Norway – and perhaps because this is a big Oil town with many a millionaire resident – lunch won’t be found for less than £10 even if it’s a humble couple of slices of bread, two tomatoes and some cheese. So crafty spending dodges must be used at every opportunity (this is not the same as stealing cause my mum would never encourage that):

And this is what a Norwegian McDonalds looks like:

Finally – this is the kind but mistaken man who, with his kindly friends, plied me with red wine whilst talking constantly about how they were all gay. I heard this with relief, told them that I was too and relaxed into enjoying expensive wine without having to worry about anyone’s expectation. On we drank – the third bottle in I decided it was time to wobble away from my new favourite entourage – and then came the exhortations ‘but such a beautiful boy, how can you leave us this way?!’. They’d been calling me boy all night but I took it as a language confusion. No. They’d just taken me for a boy (so many reasons why that’s lazy looking). And so with some gesturing and much embarrassment (all round) I extricated myself and left them to the final half bottle:

Will return to Bergen on my route back to England – when I will make time to visit the Munch exhibition – until then I leave you with a street and the promise of many a blog post once I hit land in Bodo in four days time:

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. August 31, 2011 8:16 am

    Thanks so much for letting us be on the journey with you! your excitement is infectious – as always – especially the enthusiasm about the little camp (many of us would probably have felt the same coming upon it after a long climb). But, boy, the best is last!

    Be well.

  2. August 31, 2011 1:43 pm

    I love the story about the “kind’ man Tamsin…really gave me a great big belly chuckle!!

    All best, Susanne xx

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