It wasn't until after I left Bergen and moved to London, I realized how beautiful the city is. I love the mountains, the fresh air, the sea, the old tree houses and the narrow streets between them. I love skillingsboller, the fish soup and fish cakes at Søstrene Hagelin, tuesday nights at Garage, and everything else about it. Except for the 300 days of rain. I'm going home for a week during easter, and I really can't wait. I'm excited to wake up in my lovely bedroom in my mum's house, relax, and spend time with my friends and family.
While scrolling down my facebook newsfeed, I came across a website with loads of pictures of Bergen, and I completely fell in love with Bergen during the seventies. This was the decade my dad spent all of his teenage years, with long hair and a moustache, probably wearing denim jackets while listening to The Ramones, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and all of the other incredible music the seventies had to offer. My mum's a few years youger, so she probably doesn't even remember entering 1970 as a four year old. She started school a few years later, and then probably grew awkwardly tall at an early age, like I did, before she turned into a foxy lady in the early eighties. But that's another story. Well, here's some pictures from my mum and dad's Bergen.
All pictures borrowed from http://fotomuseum.bergen360.no .