The wake up call comes way too early - and right on time.
The Grand has a rare luxury - soft water! - in the shower. We're on our way again back to the train station and to Oslo airport for the next leg of our Christmas '04 Adventure: Bergen!
As we ascend to 25,000 feet on our way to Bergen, the plane clears the considerable cloud cover over Norway. Sun alert! Sun alert! The sun shines into the cabin. Unfortunately I don't actually see the sun myself, only the evidence of the sunlight on the seats across the aisle. Even so, a little bit of the pall has lifted and my sprits are uplifted. (TB warned me earlier that we might catch sight of a strange yellow ball in the sky but not to be alarmed.) Forty-five minutes after take-off, we land in semi-sunny Bergen.
Bergen is northwest of Oslo and lies near the mouth of Hardenger-fjorden. It used to be the largest town in Norway and has been a important fishing and trading center for two millennia. As part of the Hanseatic League, German Hansa traders took over one side of the Bergen Harbour. Today, that part retains its medieval, gabled buildings and is called the Bryggen. The town has also grown up the sides of the fjords, giving it the appearance of a multi-split-level city. We've come because the train trip between Bergen and Oslo is reputed to be one with some of the most beautiful scenery in the world.
Bergen airport is simple and straightforward. We jump into a cab for the 300NK ride to our hotel. We pass big slabs of rock jutting through the ground. I remember my geology 101 course, trying to distinguish between igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic rock. I'm pretty sure granite is igneous but I think gneiss is metamorphic and actually might have been granite before it metamorphosed.
Forest-covered mountains surround us on three sides - waterfalls cascade into air and drop hundreds of feet. The fourth side is water - the edge of the North Sea.
So. Here we arrive in a pretty square, the Ole Bulls Plass, where the Radisson Norge Hotel is located. We're up on the 8th floor across the street from a roof-top nightclub. TB may want to borrow some of my ear plugs. . .
After being told at reception that the gourmet restaurant that was recommended in one of our guide books has been gone for five years (!) they've given us a pamphlet with restaurants we might want to try instead. We're keen to to see the old Hanseatic harbour and gabled warehouses, and there is a restaurant that boasts typical Norwegian food in one of the buildings: the Bryggelofltet and Steune.
As we walk down Ole Bulls Plass toward the harbour, one of the department store windows is a stage for two giant Christmas trolls dancing for a growing audience of children with their parents in tow.
Further along there is an impressive bronze edifice that depicts all sorts of Norwegian cool things, such as a viking boat killing a dragon in the water and a polar bear about to leap into the water.
Further down we see the harbor and there are some pretty big ships in port, including a Statoil ship, the Viking Poseidon, getting ready to head out to sea. There's also a large-masted sailing vessel, as well as a cruise liner.
We find the Brygge Steune and take a seat at the window. It's not a terribly busy day for the staff and they're happy to talk to the Americans. We have a front row seat for the constantly changing weather. It rains. The sun shines (from behind some clouds). The harbour is covered with white caps. It rains some more. The Bergen aquavit is quite smooth. As we eat, we watch the Statoil ship weigh anchor, winch their foot-thick lines in and leave. They don't waste time. First they use their side thrusters to move perpendicularly away from the dock, then they sail away. It's pretty impressive. I think of Mark.
Scott was so pleased with the whale he had the other day that he orders it again - this time it's advertised as "carpaccio." He's pleased once more. I have a decidedly un-Norwegian choice: escargots. For a main course, TB opts for a cold seafood salad (the crayfish tails were the best) while I enjoy a steak sandwich with frites. All very good indeed.
After lunch we wander a bit further along the Bryggen to find a souvenir. I'm thinking sweaters but Scott comes upon a perfect souvenir: reindeer skin! Just like Mom and Dad got on their trip those many years ago (they took the fancy trip - cruising from the Norwegian mainland up to and back from Svalbard, securing a reindeer skin that now hangs on the wall in Jackson Hole). After we purchase our souvenirs, I realise our train leaves in the morning quite early (0755) and we can't quite figure out on the map where the station is, exactly; so I insist on a recce. We walk down to the Festplassen just off our hotel square the other way from the harbour, through a snow-covered park, around a large open-water pond toward where we think the station is. We're almost right. When we do find it, Scott is able to secure hard copies of our tickets.
We return to the hotel between rain showers and have a rest. A brief look at the room service menu convinces us to find a restaurant on the square. We look out the windows and see "Dickens'" below, and we go check out the menu. It looks like another typical Norwegian bill of fare so we enter (we really have come to love typical Norwegian food).
The traditional Christmas dish of pork belly with red cabbage and boiled potatoes is here, and, to the delight of TB, so is reindeer! As he dives into his dinner, TB swears that reindeer is exactly the same taste and texture as the antelope we had our last night in Longyearbyen - from the special menu the Polar Hotel's chef created for his colleagues. Funny that. We have some Bergen aquavit to finish things off, then it's to bed for a good night's sleep before our 0630 wakeup call.