Sunrise in Kinsarvik is about 4:45am, and the sun sinks into the North Sea west of Bergen close to 10:30pm. With barely a cloud in the sky, that is a long day to be drinking, however that is what all the folks in their traditional finery seemed to be doing. The streets around Vågen were packed with happy, chattering people and a plethora of Norwegian flags. Further along down the alleys groups gathered around tables and makeshift grills, soaking up relentless evening sun and sometimes singing. Occasionally the ambience was interrupted by the faint whine of an electric engine as tyres traverse cobblestone streets.
The morning started with taking in the sunrise over the fjord, the very unexpected boom of some 7am fireworks, and a large breakfast including my first taste of brown cheese (pretty good with eggs) and of wreath cake. There were many flags.
Loaded up on food, we drove along the water towards Odda where the light sparkled once more on waters, snow-capped mountains, old churches, and apple orchards. And flags.
It's the simple things in life that make me happy, and I've written previously about how the first coffee of the day brings a euphoric focus to my moment in the present, doing this while hugging the winding lanes of the tourist road under a blue sky was peak coffee experience.
After some tunnels we reached Bondhusdalen - translated: Farmhouse Valley. We hiked into the valley along a path that took us past a vibrant blue lake and then up a forest slope to a very dry plateau that showed signs of being very wet at other times of the year. Into the valley, I didn't see any signs of a farmhouse other than a stacked rock wall which was probably a thousand years old. The rest of the landscape was dated by millennia. Ancient forest and towering, rocky mountain faces and the dust of ancient boulders beneath our boots. Along with hikers sporting Norwegian flags. And dogs (also sporting flags).
After the hike we drove to Bergen, including the first two ferries of the road trip, and many more winding roads. Nearly every shop was closed, but we did crash a community get together in a small town shopping mall where I devoured a kebab before we continued on.
After so much travel, nature, and wide open spaces, the transition to a Bergen downtown clearly many hours into the party was jarring, but once adapted and we'd explored beyond the nucleus of the revelry into was easier to soak up the atmosphere from a respectable distance. In an Australian equivalent, Constitution Day would be a combo of Australia Day (over exuberant national pride) and Melbourne Cup day (getting drunk in fancy clothes). Except Australia lacks the equivalent of the first days of sunshine after months of darkness and snow that precedes it.
Bergen is a very pretty town, and I envy the sense of community it exhibited on this day, among the colourful wooden houses and charming lanes. We went to bed as the sun was setting, and I was startled again by booming fireworks around 11pm as I drifted off to sleep.