🇳🇴 Bergen Walking Tour at Night | Rainy Stroll Through Norway’s Hanseatic City

🇳🇴 Bergen Walking Tour at Night | Rainy Stroll Through Norway’s Hanseatic City

It’s 11 o’clock at night… but here, in Bergen, on a 29th of May the sky still holds on to a pale silver light. You can feel the chill (just 9 degrees celsius or 48 Fahrenheit) and the familiar kiss of rain against your cheeks. This is, after all, the “European capital of rain” (or that is what they say so). In today’s tour we begin in Byparken, the city’s central heart, and from where we’ll head to the Old Town. After visiting the beautiful cobbled streets and the nightlife atmosphere of its alleys, we will continue next to Bryggen: the most iconic part of Bergen’s landscape, known for its famous and colourful wooden buildings lining up by the harbour. And at the quiet end of our night tour we will find Saint Mary’s church, the oldest standing building in the city of Bergen. But to get there, first, we are going to stroll through some of the most beautiful streets of the city, and we will start here, in King Olav V’s Square. So, pull your coat a little tighter because the rain will get heavier… and let’s begin. If you glance into the far far back you might catch sight of the National Stage, Bergen’s grand theatre, with its façade quietly lit for the night. But we’re not heading that way this evening. Instead, our path brings us here, to Kong Olav V’s plass. And right in the middle of the square… this. It’s called -Den blå steinen-: ‘The Blue Stone’. [It reads in Norwegian: “La Barna Leve!”. / It translates to: “Let the children live!”. The flowers are a tribute to the thousands of children who have perished in Palestine through different methods, most notoriously through systematic starvation of its people carried by the state of Israel.] “The Blue Stone’ is a eight and a half metres long monument, tilted just so, with a thin line of metal running along its top. At first glance it’s an odd thing to find here; a huge block of Brazilian sodalite granite dropped in the middle of a busy thoroughfare. It was placed here in 1993, designed by the artist Aksel Løven, and it quickly became one of Bergen’s most familiar meeting points. ‘We’ll meet by the Blue Stone’ is something you’ll hear from locals all the time, whether for a night out, to shelter from the rain under the shop canopies nearby, or even to protest against an injustice that is being held, as you have just seen now. Some say it looks like a frozen wave, others like a giant iron pressing down on the city. But however you see it, the Blue Stone has become part of Bergen’s everyday tempo. We will leave Aksel Løven’s sculpture behind now, stepping off into the slow evening rhythm of the city. The pavements shine with that particular Bergen sheen, the kind only a fresh drizzle can give, and shopfronts cast soft pools of light out into the street. There’s still a gentle movement of people: a couple hurrying under an umbrella, someone riding by on a scooter with a takeout bag swinging from the handlebars… But the pace is unhurried, as if the whole city has exhaled for the night. That’s Bergen for you: Norway’s second-largest city, but carrying itself with the calm of somewhere much smaller. Around 290,000 people live here, tucked between the sea and the mountains (seven of them, to be exact); and I dare you to pronounce them: Ulriken, Fløyen, Løvstakken, Damsgårdsfjellet, Lyderhorn, Sandviksfjellet, and Rundemanen. Locals know them well, and many will happily spend a sunny day (when they get one) walking up one and down another. And then, of course, there’s the sea… Bergen sits right at the gateway to the fjords, those deep, glacier-carved inlets that stretch like giant fingers into the Norwegian coastline. From here, you can sail out to Sognefjord, Norway’s longest and deepest, or to Hardangerfjord, famous for its orchards and springtime blossom. The city’s whole history is tied to this geography: ships bringing in goods, sending out fish, connecting Bergen to the world long before there were roads worth speaking of. [“Sailor’s Monument”, a tribute to the country’s maritime heritage. Raised on a plinth containing water, this monument sculpted by Dyre Vaa in 1950, depicts on each of its sides sailors from different eras to acknowledge and honour the efforts and contributions of Norwegian sailors throughout the ages.] Now… Imagine for a moment that we’re not standing here today, but in the summer of 1884. You’re a young deckhand on the Juno, a coastal steamer bound for Hamburg. The dawn has barely lifted when you start your shift, the fjord ahead still wrapped in a blue-grey light. The air is cold enough to sting your cheeks, your breath drifting in little clouds as you move. Behind you, the crew are stacking barrels, salted herring packed so tight you can almost smell the brine from here. A few crates hold woollen goods from inland farms, their labels marked with tidy black script. In a corner, there’s a single wooden chest, its sides stencilled with the name of a merchant you’ve never met, destined for a shop in Copenhagen. The Juno’s engine makes a start and beats steadily below your feet, a slow rhythm you’ve grown used to. Seagulls follow in your wake, their calls sharp in the still morning. You lean on the railing for a moment, looking at the sheer walls of the fjord rising on either side streaked with narrow waterfalls tumbling from the melting snow above. The water is black, glassy, reflecting only the faintest shimmer of the pale sky. And as the steamer boat blows its horn, you relocate yourself in the present moment and return to your work, knowing that when the Juno returns, it will not only bring cargo, but stories from far-off places, stories that will weave their way into Bergen’s own.” The dignified gentleman gazing out across the square is, considered by some, Bergen’s own son. Born here in 1684, Ludvig Holberg is considered one of the most influential figures in Scandinavian literature. A playwright, a historian, an essayist… his works shaped the cultural life of both Norway and Denmark, and his comedies still find their way onto theatre stages today. He was a master of satire, never afraid to poke fun at human nature, perhaps because he knew it so well. There’s a story that he preferred to live and work in Copenhagen, claiming Bergen’s rain made it difficult to be inspired. Considering the weather tonight, I suspect he might have had a point… though I’d argue Bergen has its own kind of inspiration, just a little damper. In any case, although Ludvig Holberg spent much of his career in Copenhagen, it is here where it all began. He also had a wicked sense of humour: he once admitted he preferred writing in the Danish capital because Bergen was far too rainy to be inspiring… But the weather… well, it’s part of the history too. People call Bergen the ‘”rain capital of Europe”. Now, whether that’s entirely true is another matter. I’m sure somewhere in western Ireland might raise an eyebrow, but the city does clock up around 240 rainy days a year. In 2015, they measured a record 2,746 millimetres of rain. To put that in perspective, that’s more than double what London gets in a year. And the people of Bergen simply get on with it. There’s a saying here: ‘If you waited for a dry day, you’d never do anything.’ And as you can see, we’re certainly not waiting, just like the locals themselves. Now, as we step into Skostredet (the shoemakers street), you’ll notice that the wide, modern thoroughfares have given way to something more intimate, lined with bars, little restaurants and shops. But its name still whispers its past: this was once the street of the shoemakers. In medieval Bergen, as many as thirty-six shoemaker stalls crowded this lane; two craftsmen to a shop, hammering soles, stitching leather, and filling the air with the smells of tanned hide and woodsmoke. And the shoemakers weren’t just busy tradesmen, they were powerful. So much so that, in 1507, when Duke Christian (the man who would later become King Christian II of Denmark and Norway) tried to cut through here with the German soldiers he had with him, the shoemakers barred their way. Imagine that: a future king, armour glinting, soldiers at his back, stopped not by an army or a council of nobles, but by a row of stubborn craftsmen in leather aprons, standing firm in their own street. It gives you a sense of how strong the guilds were here, and how Bergen’s tradespeople shaped the life of the city. Today, the hammers and the smell of leather are gone, but Skostredet still has a buzz of its own. Even well past eleven, there’s a gentle hum of life. The glow from small bars and cafés spills onto the pavement, voices carry in the cool night air, and somewhere a door swings open, releasing a short burst of chatter or music before closing again. Every tour includes a map in the description box of the video, helping you trace the route and better understand
the path we have walked together. In the description box, you’ll also find a set of playlists I have put together to help you explore the tours that call to you most. It’s a shortcut you will find in the description box of any video. As we walk down Kong Oscars gate, a street named after Oscar I of Sweden and Norway (king of the unified kingdom from 1844 to 1859), we can see here, right to our left, Korskirken: the Church of the Cross. We’re not going inside, but I like passing by it, because it gives us a chance to talk a bit about something that shaped Norway long before these streets even existed: religion. If you go far enough back, the Norwegians weren’t gathering in churches at all. They were out in sacred groves or around stone circles, raising their voices to the old gods. Odin the wise, Thor with his hammer, Freyja for love and fertility. Religion wasn’t something separate from daily life; it was in the fields, in the fjords, in the way they asked for safe journeys before pushing their boats into the sea. You can imagine the crackle of a fire, the chieftain holding up a horn of mead, calling for protection before his men sailed off. And then, slowly but surely, Christianity made its way north. First gently, with travellers and monks trying to convince through persuasion, and then more forcefully when kings realised that uniting people under one faith meant uniting the kingdom. You see, for most of Norway’s early history, people worshipped the old Norse gods, and Christianity only began to take hold around the year 1000, and it didn’t arrive peacefully. One of the most famous figures in that transition was king Olaf Haraldsson, better known today as St. Olaf. Now… when we think of saints, we often picture gentle, holy men. But Olaf wasn’t exactly that. He was a warrior king. When he pushed Christianity through Norway, it wasn’t just with sermons; it was often with swords (“unite or die”). With Olaf, pagan temples were burned, and those who clung to the old gods could face harsh punishments. So, by modern standards, he was ruthless. And yet, after his death in battle in 1030, stories spread of miracles at his grave. People claimed to be healed, or to see visions. And within a year, the Church declared him a saint. Let’s just remember that for medieval Christians, Olaf was remembered not for his brutality, but for securing Christianity’s place in Norway. As we follow the line of the pier at Bergen havn, take a moment to imagine this space not as it looks tonight, quiet, with only a few ripples breaking the surface of the harbour, but as it would have looked centuries ago. The smell of tar and seawater, the creak of ropes, barrels being rolled ashore and sailors from all over Europe shouting orders in a dozen different tongues along the quays. For much of its history, this was the busiest port in Norway. Fishermen rowed in from the coast with their boats heavy with cod, while larger merchant vessels came in from the Baltic and beyond. At times, the harbour was so crowded that you could supposedly walk from deck to deck without ever setting foot on the quay. And it wasn’t just fish changing hands here. Bergen became a true crossroads of cultures. Imagine a 15th-century afternoon on this very spot: a German ship unloading barrels of grain from Lübeck, a Dutch crew stacking casks of beer, a Scottish merchant trying to sell wool, and local farmers from the fjords carrying baskets of butter, hides, or timber to barter. The noise would have been overwhelming, and yet this was Bergen’s lifeblood. Cod, in particular, was king. For hundreds of years, dried fish (especially stockfish from the Lofoten Islands) was the most important export. It was so valuable that in the Middle Ages, cod was sometimes called “Norway’s white gold”. It was durable (it could last over half a century if properly dried and stored), and feed armies, monasteries or entire cities far away from the sea since it could survive the long journeys down to Europe without spoiling. It was nutritious, and specially in high demand across Catholic countries where fish was required on fasting days. You could even say stockfish was Norway’s first “global export”; some even joked that half of southern Europe survived thanks to the cod from the Norwegian Sea. Think about it for a moment… If you bought today what is, essentially, a “mummified” cod, you could still eat it in 2070! But wealth comes with risks, and the harbour was not without its dangers. Bergen was attacked more than once by rival traders, by pirates, even by the notorious Welsh privateer Henry Morgan; one of the most famous (or infamous) privateers of the 17th century. He was basically a feared “legal” pirate who often sailed under letters of marque from the English Crown. Over time, fires swept through the wharf again and again, leaving smouldering ruins where bustling warehouses had stood. Yet each time, Bergen rebuilt in the same fashion. This is one of the few Christmas shops in Norway that’s open all year round. Beyond festive gifts, it’s filled with souvenirs that reflect Norway’s traditions and folklore. This constant flow of goods, of languages, of opportunities, also shaped the city’s character. Bergen became known as a place where people were outward-looking, used to strangers, used to mixing with the wider world. That’s one reason it sometimes feels different from the rest of Norway: more cosmopolitan, more connected, and at times, more contested. Now, all of this trading didn’t happen by chance. By the late Middle Ages, the flow of goods here was organised and dominated by one powerful force: the Hanseatic League. These were the German merchants who settled at Bryggen, the place where we are standing right now. Back there at the pier, we talked about Bergen’s harbour as this great stage, full of movement, of sails, of voices from all over. But here’s the thing: the merchants didn’t just come here to trade and sail away again. They built something much more closed-off, a kind of world within a world with strict rules, close-knit communities, and… well, let’s just say not always the smoothest relationship with the locals. If the harbour was the stage, Bryggen was the actors’ quarters behind the curtain. This is where the deals were struck, fortunes made, and the real drama unfolded, all tucked away inside these timber walls. Now, notice how the buildings lean, how the rain drips down the beams. It feels secretive, doesn’t it? Like you’re trespassing into another time. Life here for the Hanseatic merchants was… strict. Imagine being fourteen, sent away from home in Lübeck or Hamburg, and dropped into this damp, foreign place. You’re not allowed to marry here, not allowed to bring your family. You live in shared dorms above the warehouses, eat plain meals of stockfish, bread, and beer at long tables, and answer to older clerks who enforce the rules. It’s a little like a boarding school mixed with a monastery, but everything is about protecting the League’s business. And those rules… they were heavy. Break curfew, sneak into a tavern, or get too close to a local girl, and you could face fines, punishment, or worse, a one-way ticket back home in disgrace. So better not to do it. The idea was to keep loyalties tight, to the “kontor” and to the Hanseatic network, not to Bergen. That’s why, even though Germans and Norwegians lived side by side, they rarely mixed. The language here was German; the culture here was German. To many locals, Bryggen must have felt like a city within their city. Useful, yes, but also foreign, powerful, and just a little feared. But people are people, and of course cracks appeared within these walls. There are whispers of apprentices sneaking out for secret meetings, of friendships and romances that crossed the divide, of taverns that welcomed both worlds after dark. The records don’t talk much about it, but nights like this… you can almost sense the stories hiding between the shadows of the beams. As we leave the narrow alley of Bryggen and step back into the open street, notice how the rain changes everything. By day, these façades are all colour and postcard charm: red, yellow, white; but at night, wet timber reflects the lamplight, and the whole quarter feels more fragile, more real… It’s the perfect moment to zoom out from the merchants and the warehouses and think about Bergen itself, the city that grew around this harbour. The very name Bergen comes from Old Norse Bjǫrgvin, meaning ‘the green meadow among the mountains.’ It’s an old, simple description, but when you look at the setting, it’s strikingly accurate: seven mountains rise around the harbour like guardians, and in between them lies a pocket of green, a place that, from the sea, must have looked like a natural haven. To early settlers, this was both shelter and opportunity: mountains for protection, fertile ground for farming, and, most importantly, the open sea at their doorstep. That mix of mountain and water defines Bergen’s character even today. It feels small and close-knit, almost like a village when you walk its streets, yet it has always looked outward. The sea has carried Bergen’s people to the Lofoten fisheries, to Copenhagen when Norway was ruled from Denmark, to Hamburg and Bremen with the Hanseatic League, and later, across the Atlantic when many Norwegians emigrated to America. Bergen’s identity has always been both local and global: rooted in its fjords, yet restless, pulled outward by the horizon. The timber buildings we’ve walked through in this tour require constant care; the sea itself is rising, slowly threatening the quays that have been the city’s lifeblood for centuries. Bergen is a place where past and present are always in conversation, and sometimes in tension: the need to protect, and the need to adapt. And just to our side, through the drizzle, stands St. Mary’s Church. Unlike the timber warehouses, its heavy stone towers feel almost immovable, as if they’ve been here forever. For the Hanseatic merchants, this was their spiritual home, the only place where sermons were given in German. If Bryggen was their counting house, St. Mary’s was their anchor to something larger, a reminder that even merchants bound by strict rules and profit had souls in need of solace. Notice how different it feels compared to the timber world of Bryggen. Solid soapstone, thick walls, twin towers that cut into the night sky… Built in the 1130s, nearly nine hundred years ago, it has outlived kings, plagues, and countless fires. Originally, this was one of Bergen’s parish churches, a place for locals to gather, pray, and celebrate life’s milestones. But as the centuries went on, and the Hanseatic merchants grew in power, St. Mary’s gradually became their stronghold. They donated money, funded repairs, and in return gained privileges: their own priest, their own pews, and sermons delivered in German. For hundreds of years, if you walked in here on a Sunday, you’d hear German echoing off these Romanesque stone walls more often than Norwegian. But it wasn’t only the Hanseatics. St. Mary’s remained a parish church, open to locals too, and in many ways it became a rare point of overlap, one of the few spaces where Bergen’s citizens and the German merchants truly shared ground. Faith, it seems, could cross boundaries that trade could not. Rain or not, Bergen has a way of weaving its stories into you. Stories of sea and stone, faith and trade, resilience and life lived on the edge of the fjords. I hope this glimpse into Bergen’s past and present has made you feel just a little closer to this remarkable city. Thank you for walking with me tonight and until the next journey. “Ha det bra” (take care). “Bergen doesn’t get bad weather. It just gets more atmosphere”

🙋‍♂️ Welcome to this relaxing rainy walking night tour through the heart of Bergen, Norway.

Join us on a late-night walking tour through the rainy streets of Bergen, Norway’s historic gateway to the fjords. It’s the end of May, close to midnight, and yet the sky still holds a soft northern light as we explore this beautiful city under the rain.

We begin in Byparken and make our way past Den blå steinen at Kong Olav V’s plass, before strolling into the cobbled streets of the old town. Along the way, we meet the statue of Ludvig Holberg, wander through Skostredet with its vibrant nightlife, and pass by Korskirken on our way to the harbour.

From the quays of Bergen havn, we step into the narrow alleyways of Bryggen, the UNESCO World Heritage site once ruled by the Hanseatic League. Here, history comes alive, from the strict rules of the German merchants to the everyday lives of young apprentices who shaped this bustling trading quarter. Finally, we end our journey at the city’s oldest surviving building, St. Mary’s Church (Mariakirken), a stone witness to nearly 900 years of Bergen’s history.

This guided tour is more than facts and dates: it’s an immersive experience, blending history, culture, legends, and the atmosphere of Bergen by night.

If you enjoy walking tours, travel documentaries, history, culture, and slow TV, you’ll love this journey through the capital of the Norwegian Fjords.

☕️ So… If you are ready, get your morning coffee or tea, take a deep breath, and walk with us along one of Norway’s most enchanting cities.

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HIGHLIGHTS OF THIS WALK INCLUDE:

✨ A Guided Tour with Subtitles
✨ Most relevant facts about Bergen & Norway’s History, Religion, Culture & Architecture
✨ Sightseeing the New & Old Town of Bergen
✨ Visit to some of the most notable Landmarks of the city.
✨ An Immersive Experience into the live of a young merchant
✨ A Relaxing Stroll along Bergen’s Haven
✨ An ASMR and Cozy Experience Under the Rain of Norway

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TOUR DETAILS

📍Location: Bergen, Norway
🗓️ May 29, Thursday
⏰ 22.52h 🌡️ Temp: 9ºC | 48ºF

🗺️ Maps Route: https://maps.app.goo.gl/nk3mHFqDnJQZWMLL7

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🎞️ PLAYLISTS

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🙆‍♂️ ABOUT ME

My name is Martin, a Spaniard currently living in Norway. After living in multiple countries including Germany, Scotland, Slovenia, Spain, and Norway, I’ve realised how much I love exploring outdoors. I decided to start a YouTube channel where I pour all my heart and soul into every video and my goal today is to take you to the planets nicest locations to learn from its history, facts and stories from a first person point of view. Join our community and let’s discover together the world of wonders we live in!

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CHAPTERS

00:00 – 👁️ Preview
01:42 – ℹ️ Intro to Walking Tour: Bergen
04:37 – ℹ️ Kong Olav V’s plass
07:44 – ℹ️ Bergen and its geography
10:17 – ⌛️ Step-into-history: Bergen, 1884
13:43 – ℹ️ Old Town
17:43 – ℹ️ Skostredet: “The shoemakers street”
21:53 – ℹ️ Kong Oscars Gate: “Religion”
27:56 – ℹ️ Port & Pier
32:15 – ℹ️ Bryggen & The Hanseatic League
41:45 – ℹ️ The Identity of Bergen
44:28 – ℹ️ St. Mary’s Church
47:57 – Quote and Links

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📹 The sound and video have been filmed on location.
Do not copy, reproduce, distribute, publish, display, perform, modify, create derivative works, transmit, or in any way exploit any such content without previous written authorisation.