The metal bird dips its wings, and suddenly the clouds part like a gossamer curtain, revealing a world that seems to exist between realms.
Fjords stretch out below, their deep blue waters cutting through the landscape like ancient runes etched by giant fingers. Mountains rise up, their peaks shrouded in mist, as if they’re trying to keep secrets from the sky.
As we descend further, the light rain begins to fall, but it’s not ordinary rain. Each droplet seems to whisper stories of Norse gods and forgotten legends as it streaks across the airplane window.
The boundary between water and land blurs, and for a moment, it’s as if we’re flying through liquid memories of the earth itself. As the plane touches down, there’s a palpable sense of having arrived somewhere truly special.
The airport itself, modern and efficient, seems to beckon travellers into a world where the ancient and the contemporary coexist in harmonious balance. The dreamlike quality persists.
As I step onto Bergen soil, I feel a tingling in my feet, as if the ground is gently pulsing with hidden energies. Ragnar Kjartansson‘s “BERGEN ?” appears, carved in giant letters reminiscent of the famous Hollywood sign. This unexpected sight immediately sets the tone for a city steeped in mystery and wonder.
The air is thick with possibility, carrying the scent of salt, pine, and something indefinable – perhaps the essence of magic itself? I make my way through the airport, guided by an unseen force that seems to know exactly where I need to go.
The taxi ride into the city is a blur of colours and impressions, the raindrops on the window transforming the landscape into an impressionist painting come to life. As we approach the Radisson Blu Royal Hotel, the building seems to shimmer and shift, its edges softening as if it’s not quite sure it wants to be fully present in this reality. I step out of the taxi, and the cobblestones beneath my feet feel alive, each one holding centuries of stories waiting to be told.
The hotel’s entrance beckons, and as I cross the threshold, I feel as if I’m stepping into a liminal space between the modern world and something far older and more mysterious. The reception desk materializes before me, the staff’s smiles holding secrets of the city’s hidden wonders.
As I check in, the pen I use to sign my name leaves trails of stardust on the paper. The key card I’m handed feels warm and alive in my palm, promising to unlock not just a room, but gateways to unseen dimensions within Bergen’s ancient heart. I step into the elevator, and as the doors close, I catch a glimpse of my reflection.
For a moment, I see not just myself, but echoes of all the travellers who have come before, their journeys intertwining with mine in this magical city where reality and dreams dance together in the misty air.
Copyright©Nee