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debithaMan, I just realised how far behind I am! I'll make it a big one to make up for it.
So, back in Bergen the thing that struck me most was the smells. (I mean that in a good way!) There's an area of Bergen called Bryggen, where the old warehouses were. Being made of wood they had a tendency to burn down, so the oldest ones are from the early 1700s. I really loved the crazy rooflines, and may have got a little carried away with the old camera there. It's mostly tourist aimed shops in there, some better than others. Several of the buildings are being restored so the place smells of fresh wood. There was a moose leather shop (naturally), which smelled divine. It has a really rich, almost spicy kind of smell. Moose leather is very soft, slightly suede-like and warm to the touch. Near my hostel there was an organic bakery, which made lovely buns and the whole place had that lush smell of warm yeast and fresh bread. By the harbour was the fish market, with the smell of fresh fish. (Please note, fish smells a lot better fresh than otherwise!) I was a little bemused by caviar-in-a-tube. And very thrown by the seal, wolf and fox pelts piled over saw-horses for sale. There's something very sad about them, although I'm not bothered by the sheepskins, or the deer pelts.
I would like to take a moment to mention hotdog love. Hotdogs here are cheap and tasty and made with good quality sausages, and are ooooooooh so gooood.
Hostels are such interesting places to stay. In all my travels in the last month or so, my only instance of culture shock was in Norway. Because culture shock is communal showers. Women's and Men's showers were separate, but after that it's a case of, "No-one's going to look at you, what's the problem?" Which is a very sensible attitude to take, but difficult to get used to, nonetheless!
And the people. I chatted to a couple of Italian girls, and a couple from Germany and Chile, who were all lovely. But then you get the TV lady:
TV: I AM SO LOUD!
ME: Excuse me, can you polease turn the TV down a little?
TV LADY: This is the TV room, if you want to read you should go next door to the reading room. This is the room for watching TV.
ME: *Looks around at all the people who are reading* I think you'll find that actually, the room next door is the dining room and is for eating. Also, as such it lacks couches.
TV LADY: *turns down TV*
ME: *reads*
Five minutes later:
TV LADY (to me): Excuse me. Excuse me! This is the TV room. If you don't want the TV, you should read in the reading room next door. *Goes back to watching TV*
ME: ...
OTHER PEOPLE: ...
I caught up with J and his friend H, as planned. (Eventually. H had dislocated his shoulder in the night, which rather delayed things.) We largely mooched around the first day, then went to H's brother's flat. Which is 3/4 of the way up a mountain. We could have taken the cable car, but we walked. Needless to say, not my idea. But we had a few "City Appreciation" stops, and I got some great pictures.
H also introduced us to a local cafe, which promptly became the-cafe-we-go-to, with huge, and relatively cheap slab sandwiches and lurvely fresh orange juice. It was very much the sort of place that belongs on Cuba Street. I loved it.
The next day J and I went on a half day cruise up the fjord just north of Bergen. Pictures say a thousand words, so I'll let the camera do the talking.
We also went to the aquarium. On the way, we saw, and I kid you not, the Manchester United Supporters Club Scandinavian Branch. There is something very wrong with the world. The aquarium had a pond full of koi, some of which were FREAKY huge. I didn't actually see any of the big ones eating the littler ones, but I bet they do! They had seals in a tiny little enclosure. 3 of them just went round and round in laps of the little pool. It was very sad, because I'm pretty sure that means they've gone nuts. The other one battled the boredom by being a complete little attention whore. She was so much fun to play with.
That evening we went to the home of a friend of H's (I end up in the most random of places sometimes). She very kindly made waffles for dessert. Can I just say, homemade waffles, OMG drool. OK, I'm done now. Sorry.
And then I went back to the hostel and found out that Crazy Narcoleptic Humming Guy had been moved to my dorm. Crazy Narcoleptic Humming Guy would sit by the TV rubbing his fat belly and apparently falling asleep, humming. So he comes into the dorm around 11pm, and starts pulling blankets out of plastic bags, and draping them from the top bunk to turn his bottom bunk into a little nest. This took about 20 minutes of rustling and rumbling. It didn't get any better when he was done, either. He promptly went to sleep, humming, snorting and gurgling. I spent most of the night debating between going to the kitchen and getting a sharp knife to leave on the pillow next to him, and just smothering him in his sleep. Smothering is fairly effective and quiet, and it sounded like he had respiratory problems, so the coroner might not have picked up on whatever damage to the lungs it would do. Plus, there were 14 other suspects in the room. Ooooooooh, I was tempted.
In my travels, I picked up a touristy book of pictures with snippets of poetry. Normally poetry is not my thing, but I rather loved this guy.
One of the ones that grabbed my attention in the book was this:
Sssh the sea says
sssh the small waves at the shore say, sssh
not so violent, not
so haughty, not
so remarkable.
Sssh
say the tips of the waves
crowding around the headland's
surf. Sssh
they say to people
This is our earth,
our eternity.
Tune in sometime for more exciting rambling. Or possibly some meme-age. Who knows?!? Aaah, the anticipation.
So, back in Bergen the thing that struck me most was the smells. (I mean that in a good way!) There's an area of Bergen called Bryggen, where the old warehouses were. Being made of wood they had a tendency to burn down, so the oldest ones are from the early 1700s. I really loved the crazy rooflines, and may have got a little carried away with the old camera there. It's mostly tourist aimed shops in there, some better than others. Several of the buildings are being restored so the place smells of fresh wood. There was a moose leather shop (naturally), which smelled divine. It has a really rich, almost spicy kind of smell. Moose leather is very soft, slightly suede-like and warm to the touch. Near my hostel there was an organic bakery, which made lovely buns and the whole place had that lush smell of warm yeast and fresh bread. By the harbour was the fish market, with the smell of fresh fish. (Please note, fish smells a lot better fresh than otherwise!) I was a little bemused by caviar-in-a-tube. And very thrown by the seal, wolf and fox pelts piled over saw-horses for sale. There's something very sad about them, although I'm not bothered by the sheepskins, or the deer pelts.
I would like to take a moment to mention hotdog love. Hotdogs here are cheap and tasty and made with good quality sausages, and are ooooooooh so gooood.
Hostels are such interesting places to stay. In all my travels in the last month or so, my only instance of culture shock was in Norway. Because culture shock is communal showers. Women's and Men's showers were separate, but after that it's a case of, "No-one's going to look at you, what's the problem?" Which is a very sensible attitude to take, but difficult to get used to, nonetheless!
And the people. I chatted to a couple of Italian girls, and a couple from Germany and Chile, who were all lovely. But then you get the TV lady:
TV: I AM SO LOUD!
ME: Excuse me, can you polease turn the TV down a little?
TV LADY: This is the TV room, if you want to read you should go next door to the reading room. This is the room for watching TV.
ME: *Looks around at all the people who are reading* I think you'll find that actually, the room next door is the dining room and is for eating. Also, as such it lacks couches.
TV LADY: *turns down TV*
ME: *reads*
Five minutes later:
TV LADY (to me): Excuse me. Excuse me! This is the TV room. If you don't want the TV, you should read in the reading room next door. *Goes back to watching TV*
ME: ...
OTHER PEOPLE: ...
I caught up with J and his friend H, as planned. (Eventually. H had dislocated his shoulder in the night, which rather delayed things.) We largely mooched around the first day, then went to H's brother's flat. Which is 3/4 of the way up a mountain. We could have taken the cable car, but we walked. Needless to say, not my idea. But we had a few "City Appreciation" stops, and I got some great pictures.
H also introduced us to a local cafe, which promptly became the-cafe-we-go-to, with huge, and relatively cheap slab sandwiches and lurvely fresh orange juice. It was very much the sort of place that belongs on Cuba Street. I loved it.
The next day J and I went on a half day cruise up the fjord just north of Bergen. Pictures say a thousand words, so I'll let the camera do the talking.
We also went to the aquarium. On the way, we saw, and I kid you not, the Manchester United Supporters Club Scandinavian Branch. There is something very wrong with the world. The aquarium had a pond full of koi, some of which were FREAKY huge. I didn't actually see any of the big ones eating the littler ones, but I bet they do! They had seals in a tiny little enclosure. 3 of them just went round and round in laps of the little pool. It was very sad, because I'm pretty sure that means they've gone nuts. The other one battled the boredom by being a complete little attention whore. She was so much fun to play with.
That evening we went to the home of a friend of H's (I end up in the most random of places sometimes). She very kindly made waffles for dessert. Can I just say, homemade waffles, OMG drool. OK, I'm done now. Sorry.
And then I went back to the hostel and found out that Crazy Narcoleptic Humming Guy had been moved to my dorm. Crazy Narcoleptic Humming Guy would sit by the TV rubbing his fat belly and apparently falling asleep, humming. So he comes into the dorm around 11pm, and starts pulling blankets out of plastic bags, and draping them from the top bunk to turn his bottom bunk into a little nest. This took about 20 minutes of rustling and rumbling. It didn't get any better when he was done, either. He promptly went to sleep, humming, snorting and gurgling. I spent most of the night debating between going to the kitchen and getting a sharp knife to leave on the pillow next to him, and just smothering him in his sleep. Smothering is fairly effective and quiet, and it sounded like he had respiratory problems, so the coroner might not have picked up on whatever damage to the lungs it would do. Plus, there were 14 other suspects in the room. Ooooooooh, I was tempted.
In my travels, I picked up a touristy book of pictures with snippets of poetry. Normally poetry is not my thing, but I rather loved this guy.
One of the ones that grabbed my attention in the book was this:
Sssh the sea says
sssh the small waves at the shore say, sssh
not so violent, not
so haughty, not
so remarkable.
Sssh
say the tips of the waves
crowding around the headland's
surf. Sssh
they say to people
This is our earth,
our eternity.
Tune in sometime for more exciting rambling. Or possibly some meme-age. Who knows?!? Aaah, the anticipation.