In Which I Learn About the Hanseatic League

As the door to the small regional jet swung open, the flight attendant announced that we may wish to consider wearing jackets, because it was raining outside.

One of the other passengers joked ruefully that, “It’s raining in Norway,” his intonation clearly implying that it frequently rains here.

Outside the walls of the airport I easily found my train to Downtown Bergen. I’d installed the app on my phone, so quickly purchased a ticket and boarded as soon as the train arrived.

The train to Bergen winds through the mountainous countryside, and its route is almost continuously populated, with the buildings mostly standing within range of the track. The area between the airport and Bergen vaguely strikes me as being a big suburb, but its not like an American suburb – no place here truly seems disconnected from the city.

My hostel is a block from the train station. I chose the hostel for several reasons, one of which was ability to get a private room for a reasonable price. I’ll be sharing a bathroom down the hall, but for 2 nights I can deal with that.

Check in was easy, after which I showered and was on my way.

The first place I went was the place everybody goes here: Bryggen and the harbor.

Bryggen is the old wharf that dates back to the 14th and 15th centuries, to the days of the Hanseatic League. Much has been lost to disaster or modernization, but a few blocks remain.

I may have known about the Hanseatic League at one point in my life, but I can’t be certain. I probably did, but all of those memories have since melted away into the oblivion of time. The Hanseatic League, I learned, was a medieval defensive and merchant network that encompassed parts of Northern and Central Europe.

The buildings are rickety and closely packed. Fire could move through here rapidly, and has in the past.

I’ll tell you who can’t move through here rapidly, however: cruise ship passengers. I’m used to being around other tourists, but I find tour groups from cruise ships harder to deal with. They have limited range, and limited time in which to see things; they move in packs that just gum up the works because the groups are large and the alleyways here are small.

My steps led me to a cinnamon roll and then to the Hanseatic Museum and Schøtstuene.

The Schøtstuene were their meeting rooms. They have brought a few of them together on this site. Such as this room.

This was a place of judgement. Since it was considered rude to use a finger to point, the appointed judge would use this rod, with a carved hand on it.

Honestly it’s creepy.

The Hanseatic museum also showcases the kitchens.

The most interesting thing I learned in the kitchen was that the old roofs were leaky. This was intentional so that smoke from the cooking fires could easily be released. Apparently they were afraid that using a proper flue would result in sparks being projected on to the roof outside, so a smoky kitchen was safer.

As I said the place was a fire trap.

Back outside, the rain was falling harder, and I was exhausted. So I returned to my hostel where I could rest briefly before dinner.

I got in a few hours late, and my day has been shorter than expected, but that’s ok. Because this week is off to a great start!

Leave a comment