An early start this morning saw us exchange fond farewells with Bjørg and Hege as we boarded an express boat from Lavik to Bergen. (An express boat is essentially the equivalent of a maritime bus, carrying passengers to an ultimate destination while also stopping occasionally at other ports to drop off and pick up passengers.) Our departure from the Lavik contingent of the Foss family brings our time with relatives in Norway to an official close. I have rambled considerably on this topic already, so I will not belabor the point other than to repeat that we are very grateful to each and every relative who made time for us during this visit. You have left us with a wealth of memories that will last a lifetime.
On account of our expedient arrival, we were faced with the need to kill some time around town before checking into our hotel. We therefore joined the throng of tourists waiting to board Fløibanen, a cable car that runs up to Mount Fløyen, where visitors can behold a large swath of the city in a single view. This first endeavor made our change in scenery crystal clear, and immediately so, as we joined hundreds of other onlookers in this activity, all snapping selfies and swarming the gift shops in droves.
As Bergen is a port city that has long relied on seafaring as a substantial part of its economy and sustenance, seafood is prevalent throughout the city, demonstrated in part by Fisketorget–the fish market–that operates next to the pier. Multiple stalls featuring the day’s catches display nearly every type of edible marine life imaginable–at least those that dwell in the waters near Bergen. With a farmer’s market also selling a wide variety of produce right next door, this area of town was a playground for the culinary imagination. Top Chef: Bergen, anyone? Somebody get Padma on the phone.
After successfully stowing our luggage in our respective hotel rooms, the parentals and I headed back to the fish market, this time with the intention of actually sampling some of the offerings. I have explained to several relatives that I have a mild-to-moderate (but also unpredictable) allergy to shellfish, but I have historically ignored the resulting discomfort in the case of crab and lobster because I enjoy them too much. Today, I proved it–and I’m happy to report that the histamines remained dormant. My platter of mussels, king crab and Norwegian lobster steamed with garlic was a beautifully fresh way to dedicate our arrival in Bergen.
A trek over to Grieghallen, the concert hall dedicated to the legendary Norwegian composer (and Bergen native) Edvard Grieg, revealed the possible reason for our Star Wars-themed run-in on Mount Fløyen, as the Bergen Philharmonic was slated to perform the soundtrack live to accompany a screening of the film that evening. To my devastation, tickets had already sold out, or else my plans for the remainder of the evening would have been very easily determined indeed.
Strolling around the streets of Bergen is an experiential reminder of our return to city life. There are, of course, pervasive tourists. Strangers approach asking for cigarettes. Multiple Starbucks, McDonald’s, and Burger King stores dot the thoroughfares. Through a house window, one overhears groups of college students playing Super Smash Brothers. Artisan shops are replaced with more generic souvenir vendors. But I was admittedly caught off guard by one glaring difference with what I typically experience in American cities, and it concerns the nightlife. This was a Saturday evening, and by 7 o’clock, the streets had noticeably started to clear. Past sundown, I was practically alone as I traversed the sidewalks. Of course, it’s entirely possible that I was looking for the night owls in the wrong part of town, but the Saturday closing times for many of the local businesses suggested that customs are simply different here.
With some businesses and sights often shuttered on Sundays, it may take some heightened ingenuity to see what mischief we can encounter tomorrow, but I am at least heartened that Bergen’s famous rainclouds have, to this point, remained out of sight. May the Force be with us.
Where the Waterfalls Mean Home 