We started our walk in beautiful Bergen after walking through one of the oldest parts and you could tell it blind folded cause this was their busy fish market opened every day. It was the guiding scent for many a popular place.

Across a bridge then near vertically up, it started with stairs. Because of ‘af’ I decided on the more gradual winding road than the stairs, owing to my atrial fibrillation. Then the flowers threw a huge celebration, cause that’s not the Norwegian way. They want you to discover their fulsome flowers along with their dark mauve tulips and deep reds that seem to bow to the ‘rodos’ and golden yellow daffodils, all of which play a part in welcoming the lucky visitor.

As we walked, probably too quickly, through the city’s 50 odd parks and gardens, it was obvious how they were treasured. We looked out on to this stunning small ‘village within a city’, ‘weather boards within concrete’, ‘electric within gas’, and ‘trompe l’oeil ‘on walls to make you smile.’

The cutest village within a city stunning weatherboards, a lovely type of trompe l’oeil surrounded by hedges and shaded with yellow flowering trees. A happy male resident who bought here just last week couldn’t be happier. I have just been for a city walk and found another five of these.

Sun baking in all parks and there are lots. They are not huge but a handful would allow you a 30 minute stroll around its perimeters delightfully undulating with some human engineering.
I bet they silently shrug their shoulders when complimented, while once again taking out the major awards while humans performed well with their mentoring of the introduced plants.

But sadly they came dead last in at least three parks where runners ran between headstones with no foolish intent but maybe to expose the rent.

No amount of money could effectively create the natural undulation of cities like Sydney, Puerto Rico and Lisbon, all of which have a soothing ambience that cannot be replaced.

Usually when we climb a mountain only a few others join us but in Norway they maybe want to check your respect for it. In the short five hours we were there so were another three hundred or more most choosing to walk. It wasn’t easy.
There were over 1000 steps and it took us 3 hours up and 2 hours down. On the way up I regretted leaving our poles on the station but before too long I borrowed a throwaway.

After about 2 kms while steps went one way to the top for 800 metres, we went the 2.5 km way which was less steep but much rockier underfoot and so steep in parts it was difficult to stop, and if you did, it was very hard to get going again.

A young blond Norwegian came running by with a baby strapped to her chest and fast asleep. Locals are encouraged to get outside and stay healthy and this is one option they choose. Talking to her got me thinking of doing a visual research project then and there on the day and below are the results.

The older men know what they can do and at what pace, and rested when  a recent ailment reminded them of their age; the older women knew all along what ailments went with what age and like their daughters and grand daughters just powered along with no thought of stopping; younger men would stop more often.

Then there were the runners, mainly represented in the older men who would dance down the hill, (which I have been doing because I thing that sure connection with the ground is safer, but with plenty of rest, because of my a/f).

The very best, and they are only less represented in the older men, are a delight to watch in both an entertaining and educational sense. I will still do it my way but I would suggest others with pd to take their time in deciding how hard to push themselves. By the way I did not see children (under 7 would be my guess).

With my pd and without my low bp and af, I would go faster, and keep up with all but the top. I say this so you have all the facts when you start to experiment or go on long walks. It seemed in retrospect to have been the most stressful part of the walk with the fear of falling backwards on a steep hill being the worst. Fear often makes the best memory, so I don’t think I will forget this day for a long time.