MAJESTIC NORWAY BY MAUREEN LICATA With yearly precipitation measuring a whopping 88 inches, Bergen merits its City of Rain moniker. But sunshine beams as we explore the engaging seaside town. First stop, the jammed al fresco market, where fishmongers garbed in gumboots or vinyl overalls flog their wares. While tallying up purchases, they proffer tourist advice in at least 11 languages, from the local lingo to Tagalog. Nearby, customers wolf down sandwiches of steamed shrimp or wild salmon. My daughters and I watch as a fellow tourist gnaws on a dark chunk of whale meat. “Delicious,” he proclaims. Across the square, antlers, knitted mukluks and Viking-inspired jewellery dangle from covered stalls, while vendors hawk piles of reindeer, walrus and seal pelts. But none of this is too surprising since we’re cruising in Norway, land of forest-dwelling trolls, Nordic hospitality and the stunning remnants of a dramatic geological past. Bergen is a charmer. In fact, it’s been a hit with foreigners since the Hanseatic League, an alliance of savvy German merchants, set up shop there in the 13th century. Though it faded 400 years later, its legacy thrives in the wharfside Bryggen. Sixty-two wooden buildings stand in tight rows facing seaward, with primary colours and steeply pitched roofs redolent of times past. We meander through the warren-like spaces between the warehouses, once brimming with fish from northern Norway and European cereal grains. Now upscale restaurants and art galleries inhabit the UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site. While the Romans opted to build with marble, Norwegians chose wood, and fires routinely undid their efforts. In 1904, the city of Ålesund succumbed to flames, displacing 10,000 residents. But it rose again, courtesy of kindly Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany and a contingent of architects keen on Art Nouveau. Towers, turrets and even gargoyles define these period buildings. Think theme-park consistency, but with total sincerity. The city is graffiti-free and animated, particularly the pedestrian commercial zone. We stroll past hordes of pram-pushing families (it seems a baby boom is underway in Norway) and crowded outdoor eateries until we reach a lonely section of the harbour. Here, small fishing boats sway in the waves as seagulls wail like colicky babies. Then higher elevations beckon. With benches interspersed along the zig-zagging route, we trudge up the 418 steps to the Aksla viewpoint. Before settling our oxygen debt, we scan the briny panorama. The cityscape seems to spill across the water’s surface like a hard-edged interloper in Neptune’s realm. Hilly islands and a bank of gossamer cumulus clouds stretch toward the horizon. The sea has star status in western Norway, famed for its myriad fjords. So rife are the ancient gouges into the land mass that the 25,148-kilometre coastline outdoes the distance between the North and South poles. Credit the last ice age for carving out the U-shaped valleys. Next, ocean water flooded the fissures. And now we tourists arrive to admire the steep-sided inlets and the primeval vistas. For the full story pick up the current issue of Boulevard Magazine |