Svuda podji - travel stories

Austria 2015, part 1 (Graz)

Verica Ristic — Tue, 30 Jun 2026 05:52:00 GMT

My dear high school friend, Željko, who has been living in London for years, decided to celebrate his round-number birthday back in 2015 in Vienna. He really loves his birthdays (we’re similar in that) and it’s especially important to him to celebrate such milestone birthdays in some special place he loves (that’s where we differ; I always prefer celebrating my birthday at home).

So the decision was made for him to celebrate his May birthday in Vienna, since he loves that city so much, while the main event was supposed to be a formal dinner for his friends at an exceptionally beautiful restaurant.

Besides loving to celebrate a birthday with my dear friend when I know it means a lot to him, I also really liked the idea that already in November 2014 (when we were making plans) I could say that on a certain date in May the following year I had a dinner invitation in Vienna. It sounds pretty good, especially if someone wants to show off, which absolutely wasn’t my intention, but I’m aware of how it can come across.

However, when I started looking at hotel room prices, I almost fainted. The celebration was scheduled during the Eurovision Song Contest and because of that, the prices had skyrocketed. So yes, I do love celebrating a birthday with my dear friend, but not if it’s going to cost me an arm and a leg. I told Željko that I would have to skip the celebration this time, but then he suggested that I could share a rented flat with a couple of his friends from England. I had already met one of them before, so that was perfectly fine with me – on the condition that I would have my own room and that I wouldn’t have to deal with renting the flat myself (at that time, I still wasn’t very experienced with renting flats when travelling).

Everything turned out that way, so I was able to buy a plane ticket to Vienna in good time with complete peace of mind. In the meantime, however, I realised that it would actually be quite pointless to go to Vienna for just a few days if I was already buying a plane ticket. That’s how I came up with the idea to spend a full week travelling, including both weekends – three days in Graz, one day in Semmering, and four days in Vienna.

Here is a map showing exactly where I went.

The trip started off quite nicely, so one Saturday early in the morning I flew from Belgrade to Vienna. I immediately made my way to the train station in Mödling, where I was supposed to catch a train to Graz. It was a completely unremarkable train station where I bought my ticket from one machine and grabbed refreshments from another. I had to wait a bit for the train, but it was actually perfect – I had enough time to calmly check which platform I needed and head there without any stress.

The journey itself, which lasted a little over two and a half hours, passed without any events, but I enjoyed it, especially as I watched the beautiful scenery through the window as the train went by.

From Mödling to Graz

After arriving in Graz, I checked into a hotel I had booked through an agency (that’s how I used to do things at the time) and I was delighted that the hotel was very close to the train station, which suited me better because of my luggage.

However, I still arrived “too early,” so my room wasn’t ready. I left my things at the reception and headed out for a walk towards the city centre.

Staying near the train station meant I was almost 1.5 km away from the centre, which is called the Old Town or Altstadt. Although I could have taken a tram, I actually enjoyed walking.

Graz, a detail

That’s how I reached the Mur River, which flows through the city. On the other bank stood the Franciscan Church, which is part of the Old Town.

Graz, a detail

On the same side of the river is the Schlossberg hill and in the middle of the river there is also a modern artificial island, Murinsel, which also serves as a bridge for crossing from one bank to the other.

Graz, a detail

Since I knew I would have plenty of time for sightseeing, I was just getting a general impression of the city and its landmarks and points of interest, viewing them from the outside for now.

Graz, a detail

My impression was that the city is trying to keep up with the times and the changes they bring, especially in architecture. After that modern island-bridge, even in the old town you can see numerous modernist details.

Graz, a detail

Nevertheless, my conclusion was that Graz is an exceptionally beautiful city, especially that old centre. I walked around casually, just looking at things from the outside. I even thought about going to a museum right away, but it turned out that the next day was some international museum day, so all of them would be completely free. Of course, I postponed visiting museums until the following day.

Graz, a detail

For the time being, I sat in a café and had a coffee to wake myself up a bit more, and afterwards I walked again around the city centre for a little while.

Graz, a detail

At some point, I got hungry, so I went for lunch, which was fairly standard.

Graz, a detail

In Serbia, we don’t really have a distinct national cuisine. There are some dishes, either general or regional, that could perhaps be considered traditional, but in reality, our cuisine is a big mix of different influences – primarily Turkish, Greek, Hungarian, Austrian and Central European. In recent decades, Italy, especially with its pasta and pizzas, has also claimed a place in the tastes of the average Serbian, and from what I can see, in recent years the influence of America and Britain (!) has increased in the form of cheesecakes and muffins.

However, the backbone of traditionally popular food consists of dishes from areas directly south and north of Serbia, just as conquerors from those directions came and left a lasting impact through their food.

What I want to say is that breaded meat, like the one shown in the previous photo, isn’t exactly an “exotic” novelty for me. My favourite dish, which my mother made better than anyone in the world (and I know how to make it the same way), is Parisian-style schnitzel, made from pork coated in flour and eggs. But when it comes to Austria, the absolute star is the Wiener schnitzel, which must be made from veal, and in addition to flour and eggs, breadcrumbs are also mandatory.

So, here’s what it looks like when I make Wiener schnitzel, while the recipe follows:

Wiener Schnitzel served on a plate I have made myself

WIENER SCHNITZEL

200 g veal cutlets
50 g flour
a little salt to taste
1 egg
50 g breadcrumbs

The cutlets must be pounded with a meat mallet. On the one hand, they should be quite thin (less than 1 cm), while on the other, this process softens the meat.

Add salt to the flour and beat the eggs. Place the flour in one dish, the eggs in another, and the breadcrumbs in a third. Coat the meat on both sides in this order – first in flour, then in eggs, and finally in breadcrumbs.

Wiener schnitzels are fried in deep pork fat! That’s what tradition dictates. When the schnitzels have a nice colour on both sides, place them briefly on a paper towel to drain excess fat and when serving they are usually drizzled with fresh lemon juice.

After the lunch on the first day in Graz, I decided to return to the hotel to check into my room and rest a bit, since I had gotten up very early. Later, I went back to the city centre, taking the same route. On the one hand, it was the shortest way, and on the other, I didn’t mind walking it again.

Graz, a detail

Near the Mur, I entered the courtyard of the Minorite Monastery. This is a Franciscan order that has been present in Graz since the 13th century, while the current complex was shaped in the early 17th century.

Graz, a detail

So, here I wasn’t doing any detailed sightseeing, but was just trying to get a general impression. That’s how I took a photo of a part of a street and at the end, a glimpse of the contemporary art museum Kunsthaus Graz. The museum opened in 2003 and its architecture is extremely modern, making for an interesting contrast in the predominantly traditional Central European architectural environment.

Graz, a detail

For now, I was mainly interested in crossing to the other bank of the Mur, where the Schlossberg is located.

Graz, a detail

I’ve already mentioned that this is a hill right in the centre of Graz, which dominates the city’s panorama and is one of its most famous landmarks. There used to be a fortress at its top, but it was mostly demolished in the early 19th century.

Graz, a detail

Today, the most prominent symbol of the hill is the Clock Tower, with its distinctive clock whose hands are different compared to the usual practice.

Graz, a detail

When I say the hands are “different,” I mean that the longer hand shows the hours, while the shorter hand shows the minutes. The reason for this is historical. Originally, the clock had only an hour hand so that the time could be seen from a distance, while the minute hand was added later and made smaller so as not to overshadow its “older” counterpart.

Graz, a detail

You can reach the top on foot, by funicular, or by a lift inside the hill. Today, the Schlossberg is a popular promenade and place offering a view of the Old Town.

Graz, a detail

One of the most striking modern attractions in Graz is the Murinsel, an artificial island on the Mur River that also serves as a bridge, and I wanted to cross to the other bank right here.

Graz, a detail

Graz was named the European Capital of Culture in 2003 and on that occasion several very modern, I would even say avant-garde, buildings were erected. The Murinsel is one of them. Its structure resembles a shell or a floating bubble made of steel and glass, and inside it there is a small amphitheatre and a café.

Graz, a detail

On the other bank, I reached a square from where I had a good view of the Schlossberg and its details.

Graz, a detail

Then I continued to the nearby centre of the Old Town, which is the Main Square, where the impressive City Hall building from the late 19th century is located, serving as the seat of the city administration.

Graz, a detail

From here, I wandered a bit into the streets of the Old Town, walking around, sightseeing, taking photos, and feeling very content and relaxed. Then I sat down to have a beer and rest a little.

Graz, a detail

After this pleasant break, I continued walking through the Old Town of Graz. This historic city centre, together with the nearby Eggenberg Palace, is recognised as a cultural property on the UNESCO World Heritage List. The reason is that it is considered a harmonious blend of architectural styles and artistic movements that developed one after another across Central Europe, and even parts of the continent along the Mediterranean, from the Middle Ages to the 18th century. Here, these styles are combined with influences from the Habsburg dynasty, as well as the cultural and artistic impact of the leading aristocratic families.

The Old Town of Graz occupies a relatively small area, but walking through it is extremely pleasant, precisely because of the picturesque details that can be seen here.

Graz, a detail

That’s how I came to a small square – the Glockenspielplatz.

Graz, a detail

In the square, there are several historic houses with beautifully decorated façades. These façades reflect the wealth and prestige of the city’s citizens in past centuries.

Graz, a detail

In terms of appearance and significance, the building that stands out the most is named after the square – the Glockenspielhaus. It was built in the early 20th century and is famous for its carillon, which is a musical percussion instrument consisting of at least 23 cast bells. Carillons are typically found in church or city bell towers. Here, in the case of the Glockenspielhaus, the carillon plays melodies several times a day and at those moments, windows above the façade open to reveal wooden figures of a man and a woman in traditional Styrian costume, rotating in the rhythm of the music.

Graz, a detail

I arrived here at a time when the entire carillon system was silent, but the view towards the top of the building inspired me to keep looking up, as many picturesque details could be seen that way.

Graz, a detail

As the day drew to a close and there weren’t many clouds in the west, the colours of the setting sun further highlighted the picturesque façades of what I would call a typical Central European city.

Graz, a detail

I now began slowly making my way back to my hotel, starting by crossing the Mur from the Old Town via a bridge, and once again I took photos of the interesting scenes visible from there.

Graz, a detail

Then I passed by the previously mentioned contemporary art museum, Kunsthaus Graz, which I planned to visit the next day, while for now I continued along the main street leading towards the train station (and my hotel).

Graz, a detail

From time to time, I looked around and took photos, and then I finally reached the train station.

Graz, a detail

Namely, since my hotel didn’t provide breakfast, it was important for me to buy a few small items to help me wake up easily in the morning. Since it was already the weekend evening, the city’s shops were closed, but there was a supermarket open at the station, which was exactly what I needed.

In the end, I was extremely tired, so I went to bed fairly early. It was important for me to get a good rest.

Norway 2024, part 8 (Lærdalsøyri, Sognefjord, Skjolden, Urnes)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 26 Jun 2026 16:00:00 GMT

After an exceptionally fulfilling visit to the Borgund Stave Church, I continued my drive westwards since I had a hotel room reserved about 30 km away in Lærdalsøyri.

However, since the day was long, meaning the sun was setting later, I wasn’t in a rush. Moreover, before the trip, I discovered a few interesting places worth seeing along the way. Both are related to water.

I followed the valley of the Lærdalselva River, which, in one part, as it flows along a wider riverbed, encounters a narrow passage between larger rocks, almost resembling a small canyon. The result is a waterfall called Sjurhaugfossen. Admittedly, having seen it in person, I wouldn’t exactly call it a waterfall, but technically, the water does drop – about 10 metres in total.

The Lærdalselva river

Sjurhaugfossen

Not far from here, less than 2 km away, there is a parking area from which you can view a much more impressive waterfall. However, this parking area is not on the main road but is accessed via a detour. That was my plan. However, as it turned out, there was a barrier with clear signs indicating that traffic was not allowed on that detour road. I assume the road was either being repaired, or there was a landslide, or something similar. Well, if it’s prohibited and not possible, that’s fine. Although 2 km isn’t a huge distance, I didn’t even think about attempting to walk, so I just got back in my car and continued on the main road towards Lærdalsøyri.

However, a few kilometres down the main road, I came to an intersection and realised that this was where the detour road reconnected with the main road. Since there were no signs here, I turned onto the detour road, hoping to reach the waterfall from this side. However, I soon encountered another barrier, so I completely gave up.

I’m sorry I couldn’t see the waterfall known as Soknifossen or Galdanefossen. The second name comes from a nearby farm that operated from the 17th century until the mid-20th century, where you can still see a few houses from the early 19th century today. As for the waterfall, it consists of a series of high cascades as the local river falls down the side of the mountain from a height of about 400 metres.

The only thing I could do was to photograph the Lærdalselva River, along the riverbed of which runs the detour road, and then I returned to the main road and continued through the beautiful Norwegian landscapes.

The Lærdalselva river

On the road to Lærdalsøyri

Before I entered the town, I saw a couple of waterfalls. It was clear to me that in this whole region, and certainly throughout Norway, there are likely many waterfalls because the mountains are high, there is a lot of snow in winter and its melting in spring creates streams and small rivers, which in turn create waterfalls.

Waterfall near Lærdalsøyri

But not all the whitish and vertical features were waterfalls, at least not at the moment when I took the photograph, and certainly not the one visible in the previous picture with the tractor. Here, it’s almost certain that water did flow at some point, but when I passed by in mid-April 2024, this would-be waterfall was completely frozen.

Frozen “waterfall”

Soon, I arrived at the hotel where I had booked a room for the night. It was located at the end of the town, right on the edge of the fjord. This fjord is the Lærdalsfjord, a branch of the main fjord in this part of Norway, which is the Sognefjord. Moreover, the Sognefjord is actually the largest and most famous fjord in all of Norway and is also the longest fjord in the world that isn’t covered by ice (since two fjords larger than it are ice-covered).

Lærdalsfjord

The hotel I chose seemed like a sort of resort for families with children, as I saw playgrounds and similar amenities. It’s likely much more pleasant here in the summer, with many people around. However, at the time when I took a stroll along the fjord, there was practically no one else around except for me and a few seagulls.

Lærdalsfjord

The hotel was also somewhat "spread out" – there was a small central building, surrounded by pavilions and smaller rental cottages. I had planned to get something to eat, but I wasn’t very hungry, so I went from the pavilion where I was staying to the reception to inquire if they had food and what they offered. They offered me a full meal, but first, I wasn’t sure what it would be like since there was no one else in the small and modest restaurant, which seemed more like a dining room. Secondly, I wasn’t actually hungry enough for a full formal meal.

So, I decided to "pop" over to the supermarket in the centre of the village, which was still open. There, I bought some snacks and... beer. I knew it would be nice to have it when I returned to my room later.

For now, I took a short walk around the village, which felt like a ghost town.

Lærdalsøyri at the end of the day

Aside from the possibility that, culturally, Norwegians may not be accustomed to walking around the streets of smaller settlements in the early evening on weekdays, it is a fact that Norway has a relatively small population spread over a relatively large territory.

According to the data I found online in mid-2024, Norway, with a territory of 385,207 sq. km, has about 5.5 million inhabitants, which is slightly less than 15 people per sq. km.

In comparison, Serbia covers an area of 88,499 sq. km, making it four times smaller than Norway, but it has 1.1 million more residents, which amounts to about 85.7 people per sq. km.

By the way, Norway has only about 2% of arable land, while Serbia has about 30%.

But back to my short stay in Lærdalsøyri. On my way back to the hotel, I noticed a charming part of the settlement, so I stopped to take a picture. There were no people here either.

Lærdalsøyri, a detail

After a good night’s sleep, I woke up relatively early, got down to my parked car and drove off. The drive wasn’t far at all – just under 10 km from the hotel’s parking lot. There, I reached the end of the road where I had to wait a bit to board a ferry. This was just the first in a series of ferries I would use that day, all of which transported me across the Sognefjord, which, as I’ve mentioned, is the largest and most famous fjord in all of Norway.

Waiting to cross the Sognefjord

Sognefjord

The principle here was very simple: two ferries operate and while one crosses from the southern shore to the northern shore, the other one goes in the opposite direction.

Car ferries in Sognefjord

Car ferry in Sognefjord

Norway certainly has an extensive and well-developed road network, but given the country's topography, with its many high mountains and numerous islands and fjords, as well as its sparse population, there are certain "problems" or at least challenges in maintaining efficient and timely transportation. The solution to this issue is found in the continuous construction of new tunnels through these mountains and the intensive use of ferries to cross from one shore to another, whether it’s between the mainland and islands or across fjords. Of course, in the case of fjords, bridges are often built as well, but this is not always feasible, especially for large fjords like the Sognefjord.

During this first ferry crossing of the Sognefjord, both the starting and ending docks were outside of populated areas and when I crossed the fjord, I saw that the road leading from the ferry terminal quickly entered a tunnel after just a few hundred metres.

Tunnel on the north shore of Sognefjord

It was particularly important for me to know how the tickets were charged. Well, I was in highly developed Norway and the trend in the modern world is for everything to be automated, including ferry tolls, and road and tunnel tolls. Since I was driving a rental car, it was quite straightforward – the rental car company had my card number and they had already charged me some money "just in case." All the ferries (except one), as well as the roads and tunnels, have devices that capture the license plate number and everything is processed automatically so that the money is deducted from the account. I mean, except for the relatively short wait for the next ferry, everything went very efficiently.

So, after passing through the tunnel and arriving in Sogndalsfjøra, I turned right, heading north-northeast, with the intention of later following the innermost arm of the Sognefjord, known as the Lustrafjord.

The reason I chose this route was simple for me. I wanted to visit the Urnes Stave Church and it is quite remote. My original plan was to catch a ferry at Solvorn and cross to the other side of the Lustrafjord, but that friendly guide in Borgund pointed out that this particular ferry doesn’t run frequently as it serves very small communities and since it’s all quite remote, the church was still not open for the season.

The fact that I knew that the church wouldn’t be open didn’t discourage me at all. Although all the old wooden churches in Norway are beautiful in their own way, while the one in Borgund is the most picturesque from the outside, the one in Urnes is listed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. Not only because it is one of the oldest stave churches, but also because its interior is exceptionally richly decorated. I absolutely knew that the church would be closed and that I wouldn’t be able to see its rich decoration, much to my regret, but I still wanted to visit it. Moreover, as I have mentioned several times in my travel writings, I really enjoy setting myself a “task” while in a foreign country. Here, the task was to reach the church by driving around the Lustrafjord and then return to the other side of the fjord by ferry. That friendly guide found the ferry schedule on his phone and I noted it down, so I knew my target time.

Here is a map showing the route I took on this day:

Actually, I didn’t even enter the town of Sogndalsfjøra; instead, I drove across a bridge and then immediately turned in the desired direction just after the bridge. A bit further on, I stopped to take a look at a smaller arm of the Sognefjord and the bridge that spans the narrow part of this fjord.

Smaller arm of a huge fjord and a bridge near the town of Sogndalsfjøra

First, I drove alongside that smaller arm of the Sognefjord and everything seemed exceptionally beautiful and impressive. I was looking for a safe place to stop quickly so I could take some photos. Fortunately, I encountered very few vehicles, so I didn't have any issues with stopping.

Smaller arm of a huge fjord; you can see the islet of Øyna on the right-hand side

When you reach the end of this smaller arm of the fjord, the road then curves inland and there, on the left side, I could see Lake Hafslovatnet, which, with an area of just under 6 sq. km, was completely covered in ice by mid-April 2024. I didn’t find a convenient parking spot here, so I used my newly developed skill of taking photos with my mobile phone without looking at the screen (since I was driving, albeit very slowly). Experience in photography certainly helps, although in the end, many of the shots ended up in the "recycle bin."

Lake Hafslovatnet

Soon after, the road emerged on the northern side of the Lustrafjord, so I continued driving around the fjord, occasionally stopping to photograph the beautiful landscapes I was passing through.

Lustrafjord

Lustrafjord, a detail

The sun was trying to break through the clouds and occasionally it seemed like it might succeed, but in the end, it turned out to be the worst day in terms of weather during the entire trip.

Lustrafjord

Lustrafjord, a detail

In some spots, I took photos from the same position with both my camera and mobile phone. Although the photographs might be similar, they are still interesting to me because they highlight certain nuances in the appearance of the landscapes.

Lustrafjord

And so, I reached the very end of the Lustrafjord, where the town of Skjolden is located. Even as I approached the town, it was clear that I would have to stop a few times. The views were superb!

Village Skjolden and the surroundings

And the view along the Lustrafjord was outstanding, too.

Lustrafjord

Village Skjolden and the surroundings

I came here based on the recommendation of that wonderful young man from Borgund who was my guide there. It wasn’t just about the local ferry schedule, although that was certainly important, but he also told me that the landscapes here were very beautiful and that you could drive around the fjord to reach the church on the other side. I am very grateful to that young man (whose name I don’t know) because this turned out to be another wonderful experience in Norway.

However, despite the beauty of the surroundings, I couldn’t linger here, as I needed to get to the Urnes Stave Church and catch one of the few ferries in that part of the fjord.

So, after taking the previous photos, I simply continued on. The road along the southern side of the Lustrafjord, from Skjolden to the Urnes Stave Church, was quite narrow and of a lower category compared to the road I had travelled on the northern side. As for the landscapes, they were no less impressive.

In the next photo, you can see both the landscape and the rental car, and more importantly, the road. My car is parked on a pullout beside the road, which is actually wider than the road designated for two-way traffic. Fortunately, on this approximately 30 km stretch of the road, I didn’t encounter anyone – no cars, no people – though I did pass by some houses and properties here and there. Yes, indeed... Norway is truly sparsely populated.

Lustrafjord, the south side

Where the road was especially narrow and there were many curves, I was very careful with my driving. I also made sure to pay attention when passing by any pullouts in case someone came from the opposite direction and I needed to reverse. Fortunately, I didn’t come across such situations. At one point, where everything was more visible, I dared to record a short video. This was definitely not an option in places where the road was very narrow or particularly winding.

Although I was very happy to be driving on this side of the fjord, I was also aware that I often had to drive quite slowly, all the while keeping the visit to the church and the ferry schedule in mind. In the end, everything went well and I reached the village of Ornes or Urnes. I drove up to the pullout in front of the gate where the famous Urnes Stave Church is located. First, I passed by the (seasonally closed) Visitor Centre and from that elevation I had a beautiful view of the Lustrafjord. I could also clearly see the village of Solvorn on the other side of the fjord, where I planned to arrive later by the ferry.

Lustrafjord, the south side

For now, I went to take a walk around the Urnes Stave Church.

Urnes Stave Church

Norway 2024, part 7 (Borgund)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 16:05:00 GMT

The village of Borgund is located at an altitude of about 400 m, along the Lærdalselvi River, surrounded by high mountains. It is small and remote enough that, despite the beautiful nature surrounding it, it would not attract anyone other than its few residents and their friends and relatives. However, there is an exceptionally beautiful and significant wooden church in Borgund (Borgund Stave Church) and it is one of the must-visit places for anyone wanting to explore the interior of Norway.

Borgund Stave Church

Here is a map showing where this church is located and the routes I took during my trip to Norway, which included a couple of days in Oslo (on foot) and extensive travel through the southern parts of the country (by rented car).

I have already mentioned before the group of rare medieval wooden churches known as Stavkirke or Stavkyrke, which means "stave church" (where stave is the word for wooden supporting posts). These churches were built throughout Northern Europe during the Middle Ages, some of the oldest being around 800 years old, but they are now mostly found in Norway.

It is believed that these churches were constructed by groups of travelling and highly skilled craftsmen specialised in extremely challenging building projects. They clearly understood the possibilities and limitations of working with wood. The wood was worked with a small number of simple tools, but using the best materials available, which allowed these wooden churches to withstand centuries of weather – rain, snow, ice, wind and sun.

These churches were built over a period of about 200 years – primarily from the first half of the 12th century until 1349, when the infamous medieval plague, known as the Black Death, reached Norway. It is estimated that nearly two-thirds of the population in Norway died of the plague within two years, leading to the decline of the once-independent state, which then became a Danish province for the next 400 years. On the other hand, this also halted the tradition of building wooden churches.

Once, there were over 1,000 of these churches, but they gradually disappeared for various reasons. On the one hand, they were relatively small. A significant problem arose when the population began to grow, while by the mid-19th century, a law was enacted requiring that churches had to be large enough to accommodate at least 30% of the local population. On the other hand, they were also quite dark and very cold, so people were happy to build more modern churches that wouldn’t have these issues. Between 1851 and 1890, many old wooden churches were either demolished or sold. The large wooden logs were often repurposed for building other structures, but fortunately, some were preserved. One was even sold at auction, sent to Berlin, and eventually ended up in Karpacz, Poland – it is the Vang Stave Church!

Today, there are 28 of these preserved churches in Norway and we can thank the fact that they were usually located in villages that could not afford to build a new church. Most of them are quite simple in both construction and decoration, but some have highly elaborate forms and intricate decorations, usually in the form of wood carvings.

Moreover, most of these 28 churches have been reconstructed or extended, with only a small part of the original structure surviving, so they have somewhat lost their “true” stave church appearance. However, the Borgund Stave Church has survived the centuries in the best possible way, without any major alterations.

Borgund Stave Church

A significant issue when visiting these churches today is that they are only open "seasonally." As far as I understand, in order to preserve them, they are not heated and during the winter, they are too cold to be open. Therefore, they are closed for most of the year and only open to visitors during the summer. From early May, almost all of these churches are open, but in late April, when I was travelling, only few were open. One of them is the Borgund Stave Church. However, it also has its own "hours of operation," meaning it was open until 5 p.m., which was the main reason I was rushing after picking up the car at the Oslo airport. Fortunately, I managed to visit a significant site on my way and often stopped briefly to take photos of the landscapes I was passing through, so I didn’t feel like I missed anything and still arrived on time – though about 40 minutes before closing.

I left the car in the parking lot near the Visitor Centre, where tickets are purchased, and from there, I started off with a wonderful, courteous young man who was my guide. At that moment, I was the only visitor, which perhaps made the whole experience even more sublime.

I should mention that this young man told me many details, but I was so excited to have made it there that I ended up feeling like I remembered nothing. On the other hand, I don’t think extensive detailing on my part would be appropriate.

In any case, we first went to the wooden bell tower.

Bell tower at the Borgund Stave Church

The bell tower in question is a free-standing wooden structure built using the same technique as the church – based on the use of main supporting posts. The tower was most likely erected in the mid-13th century and is the only remaining free-standing wooden bell tower in Norway constructed with the staves. To protect the structure, wooden cladding was added to the exterior walls at the end of the 20th century. Naturally, I had to peek inside as well.

Bell tower at the Borgund Stave Church

As for the Borgund Stave Church, it is surrounded by a local cemetery, but irrespective of that, it is absolutely enchanting.

Borgund Stave Church

I observed and photographed it carefully and attentively, both with my camera and my mobile phone, and listened to my guide’s story about the church. In the end, I also felt like I hadn't seen or examined anything thoroughly enough. However, I think that’s just a trick of my mind. Based on the number of photos that follow, which are only a fraction of what I captured (and certainly saw), I believe I explored this beautiful church quite well.

Borgund Stave Church

The construction of the church began at the end of the 12th century, in 1180, when Christianity in Norway was still in its early stages. While churches across the rest of Europe were primarily built of stone (and there are some stone churches here as well), in the rural areas of Norway, wood was the main material. This is also evident in the houses where people lived or used on their farms.

Skilled builders erected these churches by incorporating some details taken from examples of stone buildings in Europe and combining them with their local traditions and motifs.

These traditional elements include, among other things, shingle roofs and dragon heads that "peek out" from the ends of the roof ridges.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Stave churches were usually built on sites where previous wooden churches had stood in which the load-bearing posts were set directly into the ground. When these posts began to rot, the entire church had to be demolished. To address this problem, people started constructing massive wooden frames elevated above the ground and placed on stone foundations. Such structures could last significantly longer. An example of this construction method can be clearly seen in a photograph of a house that I took at the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History. (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/norway-2/). The Borgund Stave Church is also set on such a frame, though it isn’t clearly visible. In any case, the foundation is definitely made of stone, which also explains the longevity of this church and other wooden churches. Since the wood is not in direct contact with the ground, it does not rot.

Borgund Stave Church and the surroundings

Another detail explaining the longevity of the Borgund Stave Church is the fact that the exterior of the church is covered with a protective layer of tar obtained from pine trees, which is why the church has its dark colour.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Now I was ready to go inside, but first, it was important to pay attention to the entrance doors.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

The main door on the western side of the church features a richly decorated frame with floral motifs, serpents and creatures resembling dragons. The door itself also has interesting elements, such as decorative metal parts.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Regarding the frame, the guide had a flashlight with him and occasionally illuminated the parts he was discussing. In some of the following photographs, a skilled and trained eye can discern the aforementioned serpents and dragons. Even without delving into such details, it is clear that this is the work of master carvers of the highest calibre.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Then the time came to enter the church.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

However, let me first mention one more thing about the doors and their metal parts.

At the time when these churches were built, wood was abundant and there was certainly plenty of stone, as well. What was relatively rare was metal. I have read that the size of these decorative metal elements on the doors, such as the door knocker and keyhole cover, was an indicator of the financial status of those who commissioned the building.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

The interior of the church is, of course, entirely made of wood.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

When you look at the roof above the nave from inside the church, it resembles an upside-down Viking ship with ribs. This is not surprising. People here have long known how to build using wood, as evidenced by the surviving Viking ships. The Vikings were not accidentally able to sail across the Atlantic and their skill in constructing sturdy and reliable ships was naturally transferred to the construction of churches.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

This type of building is named stave church after the tall main posts that form the framework of the central space, connected by crossbeams. The semicircular arches are made from strong, naturally curved sections of wood between the trunk and the roots.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

In the previous image, in the lower row, behind the arches to the left and right of the centre, you can see some sort of "faces." These are decorations crafted at the top of each pilaster – one is anthropomorphic, while the other depicts the head of a cat.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Decorations at the tops can also be seen on the staves or the load-bearing wooden columns. This can be observed in the next photograph, which shows the side of the nave of the church.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

In the previous photograph, you can also see small openings that allowed light inside, but this wouldn’t be enough to notice many details. The top of the photograph is illuminated by the flashlight of my guide and there is some light coming from the window above the front doors on the right. The arch at the bottom of the image is lit by the fact that the side, southern door was open. Here is this southern door in the next photo:

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

And here is the front door seen from the inside, along with the window above it.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

The open doors certainly provided some light to see details like the church floor better. The floor of the medieval church was set on the wooden frame and much of it has survived. However, over time, a new floor was laid over it to protect the original one.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

In the past, it was common practice to bury the dead beneath the church floor, but this practice was banned at the beginning of the 19th century, partly due to the unpleasant odours emanating from it. However, I find it interesting that later I read that stillborn babies and infants who died before being baptised were still buried under the church floor, in small coffins, even in more recent times. The main reason for this was that it was not permitted for unbaptised individuals to be buried in the churchyard or local cemetery.

But to return to lighter topics – such as the beautifully illuminated elements with charming diagonal cross-bracing, known as Saint Andrew's Cross. By the way, this type of cross is named after Saint Andrew, who was crucified on an X-shaped cross. It is essentially a Greek cross rotated 45 degrees. It seems that light and darkness are inextricably intertwined in life.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Now I’ll take a closer look at the chancel area, specifically the apse, which can only be approached slightly.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

To start with, in front of the apse on the right-hand side, there is a pulpit from the period 1550-1570. It was installed here after Protestantism spread across Norway. During the time of Catholicism (before 1537), there was no pulpit.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Behind the pulpit is the pilaster with the cat head at the top. Here it is again:

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Now I’ve finally turned my attention to the altar area. At the front is the chancel and behind it is the semicircular apse.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

In the middle of the chancel, at the bottom, is a medieval stone altar with an altarpiece from 1654 depicting Christ’s crucifixion.

To the left of the altar, on the wall, is a cupboard from 1550-1570 used for storing liturgical items.

However, the most interesting detail visible in the previous photo is a small opening in the wall on the right-hand side. This is a type of small window, which is believed to have been installed so that people could pray even when the church was closed.

In the following photographs, the altar area is still visible, with a focus on some details. In the picture where the altar is illuminated by my guide’s flashlight, you can clearly see the prayer window on the right side and the door that provides direct access to the chancel.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

And one more detail from the interior of the church. It is believed that in the past there were also artistic church details here, such as painted sculptures and biblical scenes or scenes related to the life of Saint Olaf. Today, these are no longer present, except that my guide pointed out and illuminated a part of the wall where some painted ornaments can still be seen.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Now I made a circle around the church by following the external gallery that extends around the nave, but all of this constitutes a unified structure. It is some sort of ambulatory the function of which is to protect the outer walls of the church and the doorways, and it also provides shelter for people during inclement weather.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Besides the entrance on the western side, I have also mentioned the southern entrance, which is also decorated, though less elaborately than the main entrance.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Nevertheless, there is a particularly interesting detail here: the animal heads located at the bottom of the side posts that adorn the entrance.

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

I walked around the ambulatory once more, then entered the church and captured that experience in a video-format. Afterwards, I exited the church and admired it again, both in its entirety and in some of its details.

Borgund Stave Church

Borgund Stave Church, a detail

Then I climbed a bit up the hill to continue admiring this architectural masterpiece from a higher vantage point. I was absolutely thrilled and filled with satisfaction, which is evident in the selfies I took here.

Borgund Stave Church

Selfie with the Borgund Stave Church

I also took a panoramic photo that shows both the Borgund Stave Church and its bell tower. On the right-hand side of the image, you can also see a portion of the new church in Borgund, which was built in 1868. I didn't go there in the end.

Borgund Stave Church complex

As I finished with the photography, a few more visitors arrived, and my guide stayed with them. Fortunately, we had previously discussed my plans for the next day and I mentioned that I wanted to visit the Urnes Stave Church. Since this involved taking a ferry, he provided me with excellent information that proved very helpful the next day.

I then headed slowly to the Visitor Centre, where there is also a small, charming museum and where my car was parked.

Borgund Stave Church’s surroundings

And yet, I still frequently looked back and it was almost difficult for me to tear myself away from such beauty.

Borgund Stave Church

After visiting the museum, I got into the car and, feeling extremely pleased, continued my journey through Norway.

Norway 2024, part 6 (Eidsvoll, Krøderen Lake, Borgund)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 17:24:00 GMT

After I had completed the formalities for renting a car at the airport in Oslo and the gentleman from the car rental company gave me a brief course on driving an automatic transmission vehicle, I was able to start and here is the map showing where I travelled.

However, I had a small problem finding my next destination on the GPS system in the car, but I managed to solve it and soon arrived in Eidsvoll, specifically at the Eidsvoll House or Eidsvollsbygningen.

Part of the settlement of Eidsvoll

In fact, it is a grand mansion of great historical importance to Norway, as the Norwegian Constitution was declared here in 1814.

Without wish to delve too deeply into Norwegian history, it is important to note that before the Napoleonic Wars, Norway was part of Denmark, with Copenhagen serving as the seat of the sovereign, while this union lasted for over 400 years. In 1813, Sweden attacked Denmark and Norway was ceded to Sweden. However, this was not acceptable to the Norwegians, so a meeting of the National Assembly was convened in Eidsvoll and on 17 May, 1814, a constitution was declared stipulating that Norway was an independent country, with the Danish heir, Christian Frederik, proclaimed as king. (By the way, 17 May is now celebrated as Norway's National Day.)

This displeased the great powers, while Sweden declared war. Negotiations ensued and everything was concluded on 4 November, 1814 when the Swedes accepted the Norwegian Constitution, thus granting Norway a high degree of independence, but the sovereign was still the Swedish king Charles XIII, who ruled Norway as Charles II.

Apart from this, the Eidsvoll Mansion or House was the private residence of the owner of the Eidsvoll Ironworks, Carsten Anker. Today, a monument to Anker stands on the grounds in front of Eidsvollsbygningen.

Eidsvoll Mansion complex and the monument to Anker

Carsten Anker (1747-1824) was a Norwegian businessman, civil servant and politician, and he was also one of the authors of the Norwegian Constitution.

Eidsvoll Mansion complex

When I arrived here, it wasn’t possible to enter the house directly and it seemed like some work was being done. On the other hand, I walked to what seemed to be the visitor centre with a café, where I learned that entry to the house was only possible through an organised tour, while the next one was in about an hour. I absolutely didn’t have time to stay that long. Still, I don’t regret it. I’m not particularly interested in constitutions and the places where they were adopted. There is a superficial interest, but the details aren’t that important to me.

On the other hand, I enjoyed walking around a part of the complex. Besides the grand mansion, the estate includes various buildings associated with the ironworks and the entire complex extends to the shore of what I would call a narrow river branch connected to Lake Hurdalsjøen.

Part of the settlement of Eidsvoll

The ironworks was founded in 1624 and it went through the hands of several more or less successful owners before Carsten Anker purchased it in 1794 and moved there to live in 1811. He was also not very successful and the ironworks went bankrupt in 1822.

So, I took a short walk around the area near the central building, which is the museum, to see a few more structures and then I returned to the parking lot and the car.

Eidsvoll Mansion complex, a detail

Now I had a stretch of about 300 km ahead of me, but I knew I would be stopping occasionally, primarily to photograph the landscapes I was passing through. I just didn’t know how often.

However, as it turned out, there were very few vehicles on the road, so I could develop the skill of quick mobile phone photography, hoping that the photos would turn out well. This was greatly helped by the fact that my right hand wasn’t needed for shifting gears. When driving my own car with a manual transmission, I usually keep both hands on the steering wheel, but occasionally, as needed, I move my right hand from the wheel to the gear shift. Now, I could use those short moments for taking photos.

I believe that my safety, as well as the safety of others, was not compromised because I only took photos either when I couldn’t see any other vehicles on the road or when I significantly slowed down while taking pictures. I remained focused on the road and driving and did not spend time composing or worrying about the shots. I only needed to press the white dot and snap a few shots, more or less by instinct. I could check the photos later and quite a few were deleted.

Although I think one should be extremely careful with this, I am, after all, a mature woman and not prone to excessive risks. I can report that throughout the entire journey there were no situations that were even remotely dangerous.

The first part of the journey took me towards Lake Krøderen. Although it was already mid-April, I was far enough north in Europe that snow was still visible in some places.

On the way to Krøderen Lake

Along the way, I also passed through a longer tunnel and began to realise that in Norway it is almost inevitable to encounter a lot of tunnels, considering its topography. Tunnels can be dull and do not provide an opportunity to enjoy the beautiful scenery, but they certainly shorten the journey.

So, at one point, the road reaches Lake Krøderen and then starts to run along the lake (if you're heading north, as I was).

Lake Krøderen

Lake Krøderen is about 41 km long and I drove along roughly half of the lake’s length. As seen in the previous photo, the lake’s surface, which is around 44 sq. km, was still mostly covered with ice. Although the sun occasionally appeared and illuminated the surroundings as the clouds dispersed, its rays were not yet strong enough to completely melt the ice on the lake's surface.

Road along Lake Krøderen

However, by mid-April, spring had indeed arrived in Norway and the ice was starting to melt. I took advantage of a parking area on the side of the road to stop and capture it all beautifully.

Parking lot beside Lake Krøderen

Lake Krøderen when the ice starts to thaw

Although it was still too early for the trees to be covered in green leaves and the sun wasn’t shining all the time due to intermittent clouds, I still enjoyed the drive immensely.

Road along Lake Krøderen

As I approached the northern end of the lake, I came across a roadside parking area, so I had to stop again; photographing from a moving car, no matter how slowly it was moving, wasn’t good enough.

Lake Krøderen

From here, the cracked ice wasn’t visible, but it was clear that the ice was melting along the edge of the lake, right by the shore. This created very beautiful sights.

Lake Krøderen

Even when I looked towards the opposite shore, the effect was interesting – large ice surface in the foreground and open water of the lake further out.

Lake Krøderen

I returned to the car, but just a kilometre further, near the village of Gulsvik, I found a large parking area with a gas station and a restaurant. I immediately planned to have lunch there, but first, I had to enjoy the beauty of the lake because the views were spectacular. The next few pictures show more or less the same scene: Lake Krøderen and the partially cloud-covered sky reflected in the lake’s waters. I was so captivated by the beauty that this is just a small selection from the numerous photos I took at this spot.

Lake Krøderen

When I finally managed to tear myself away from this wonderful sight, I went to the restaurant as planned and had a very nice lunch there. It might not have been original, but it was tasty.

Lunch near Lake Krøderen

And yet, before I returned to the car and continued on my way, I had to capture the beautiful waters of Lake Krøderen one more time.

Lake Krøderen

I soon entered the Hallingdal Valley (Hallingdal), through which the Hallingdal River (Hallingdalselva) flows. Whenever I came across a convenient spot where I could stop, I did so to take better photographs. At other locations, I continued with occasional shots from the car, but as it can be seen, most often there was no one else around.

Hallingdal

Hallingdal River

Of course, from time to time, vehicles did appear, both in my direction and coming the other way, but I was especially careful and focused when taking photos with my mobile phone. Still, I made sure to take advantage of every convenient parking spot to capture better shots.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

At one point, I passed through the town of Gol, which is home to the beautiful Gol Stave Church. This church can be seen at the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History in Oslo, which I mentioned in Part 1 of my travel stories through Norway in 2024 (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/norway-1/).

From Gol, the road practically enters the Hemsdal Valley, through which the Hemsila River flows. As I continued upstream, high mountains began to appear, surrounding the valley, and in mid-April these mountains were still covered in snow.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

Along the road, I occasionally saw houses with roofs traditionally covered with grass.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

In this part of the journey, I even started taking photos from the side without looking at the phone or its screen. I would simply keep my eyes on the road, with my right hand holding the phone beside my left shoulder and snap away. Oh, yes... a lot of photos ended up in the trash. But some turned out comparatively well.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

Here and there, I passed by some settlements, but there was also a lot of agricultural land waiting for nice weather and warmth to begin its annual growth and harvest cycle.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

The road gradually climbed and soon more snow was visible alongside it.

On the way from Gulsvik to Trøym

The road continued to climb from Trøym, at around 630 meters above sea level, towards Storeskard Lake (Storeskardvatnet), at about 910 meters above sea level, so there was significantly more snow.

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

On the way from Trøym to Borgund; Storeskard Lake under snow and ice

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

I didn’t actually know what to expect on this route, so I was somewhat surprised to find that I was driving over mountains. Granted, it was a beautiful and well-maintained road, but still over mountains.

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

Thus I reached Slette Lake (Slettevatnet) at around 1130 meters. It was covered in both snow and ice, but on this stretch of the road, I was often completely alone, so I could stop, roll down the window and take photos safely without bothering anyone.

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

At one point, the road began to descend and this was clearly noticeable not only by the road and signs but also by the vegetation. At a certain elevation, what started to appear were trees which are absent in the higher mountain areas exposed to harsher cold and stronger winds.

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

And so I descended into a smaller valley through which the Lærdalselvi River flows where I continued to follow it westward.

On the way from Trøym to Borgund

Soon, I arrived at the main destination for the day, the incredibly beautiful and charming Borgund Stave Church.

Borgund Stave Church

Norway 2024, part 5 (Oslo)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 14:30:00 GMT

The main reason I thought of coming to the Historical Museum in Oslo, and I even hurried to make sure it wouldn't close, was incorrect information I somehow found on the internet.

Historical Museum

Namely, near the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, which I visited the day before, there is another excellent and important museum: the Viking Ship Museum. However, it is currently undergoing renovation (scheduled to reopen in 2027) and I found some information suggesting that many of the exhibits have been temporarily moved to the Historical Museum, so I decided to come here.

As it turned out and as explained by a friendly woman at the ticket desk, the Viking ships have remained at the museum undergoing renovation, but they are protected and preserved there because moving them would be too complicated and risky. Additionally, other exhibits are stored in temporary facilities until the new museum is completed. So, no chance of seeing the exhibits from the Viking Ship Museum, but, as the lady mentioned, the Historical Museum does have some Viking-era exhibits that are not found in the currently closed museum.

She didn’t have to work too hard to "sell" me on the story. As I’ve mentioned, I had already seen some Viking ships when I was in Denmark, so I wasn’t too disappointed (see: (https://www.svudapodji.com/en/denmark-1/). And since I was here, I decided to visit the museum anyway.

In the end, my impression was somewhat mixed. On the one hand, I was glad I came; I saw a few interesting exhibits. On the other hand, I don't think I would have missed anything too significant (to me) if I hadn't visited. However, if I hadn't visited the museum, I wouldn't have known whether it was worth seeing or not.

A significant part of Scandinavia, and thus Norway, was historically inhabited by the Vikings. The term "Vikings" actually refers to Nordic (Scandinavian) warriors and pirates (my first association), and to some extent traders, who were active from the late 8th century to the mid-11th century. At that time, there were few cities in these regions and people mostly lived on farms. Over time, settlements began to form, which involved grouping houses together and establishing workshops and marketplaces for trade. This change in lifestyle was accompanied by a centralisation of political power, leading to the formation of a unified kingdom instead of smaller chiefdoms. This, in turn, led to the minting of coins used throughout the territory. Additionally, in the 11th century, there was a gradual transition from the old Norse pagan religion to Christianity. This also marked a shift from runic writing to the Latin alphabet.

One of the interesting exhibits at the Historical Museum in Oslo is a runestone from the period 1040-1050.

Runestone from the 11th century

Here I also saw typical Scandinavian oval brooches from the 9th-10th centuries, as well as trefoil brooches mostly from the first half of the 10th century.

Historical Museum, a detail

But, the Vikings are primarily known as exceptional seafarers and fierce warriors. Accordingly, their swords were a mark of prestige in ancient Nordic society and almost served as "jewellery" for warriors. So much so that they were often destroyed before being placed in the grave alongside their owner. In one section of the museum, one can see swords from the 9th and 10th centuries.

Historical Museum, a detail

However, one of the exhibits is almost a genuine piece of jewellery, as it is exceptionally beautiful and skilfully made of gold – it's a spur from the 10th century.

Historical Museum, a detail

In addition to being known as warriors (and raiders), the Vikings were also exceptional seafarers. It is now known that it was indeed the Nordics, or Vikings, not Christopher Columbus, who were the first Europeans to reach North America in the 10th century and they even established some small settlements there at the time. Of course, they needed to be skilled sailors also to efficiently cross the seas to Europe and conduct their raids, but they did not live solely off raiding; they also traded in furs, reindeer antlers, stone and iron. This led not only to the exchange of goods, but also to the establishment of contacts and networks. Thus, the museum also displays a small figure of a knight on horseback, discovered recently, in 2015. It is presumed that the figure either served as a toy or was brought back as a souvenir from Europe.

Historical Museum, a detail

After visiting the section of the museum dedicated exclusively to Viking-era exhibits, I also went to the part that displays some large items from the same period, as well as artefacts created under the influence of Christianity. For instance, there are two wooden sculptures representing the two most important saints in medieval Norway – St. Olaf and St. Mary.

Historical Museum, a detail

There is another runestone that is particularly significant. This is the Tune stone from the town of Tune in southern Norway. It is believed that the stone was inscribed and erected around the year 400 CE, but it was discovered in 1627 as part of a wall around the churchyard in Tune. Given the inscription on the stone, it is the earliest document in Norway that records a bequest or inheritance.

Historical Museum, a detail

The Tune stone has inscriptions on two sides with incomplete text, but experts have managed to interpret it and have determined that the stone records a father leaving his inheritance to his three daughters.

Historical Museum, a detail

By the way, runes are an ancient Germanic script used in Scandinavia. They varied in the number of symbols/letters used at different times and places, but they are characterised by their "angular" shapes, which made carving them into stone much easier.

However, there were no such issues with carving in wood, as seen in the outstanding portals of ancient wooden churches that have survived. One such example is the portal from a wooden or stave church (stavkirke) in the town of Hjartdal, which was demolished in 1860, but the portal was preserved as a museum piece. The portal is covered with carvings of dragons and plants – the symbols of life, renewal and growth.

Historical Museum, a detail

Another portal is from the Ål stave church, Hallingdal.

Historical Museum, a detail

This church was also demolished in 1880. The reason for the demolition of these ancient wooden churches was practical. While they may have been a source of pride for the small communities they served when they were built, times changed along with the number of worshippers, making them literally outdated – too small, too cold, too dark and too old-fashioned.

Fortunately, in addition to the portal, another part of the Ål stave church in Hallingdal was also preserved – its magnificent wooden ceiling, which is about 700 years old, considering that the church was built in the 13th century.

Historical Museum, a detail

The parish church was the place where people gathered on Sundays and the priest would read the Bible in the old Norse dialect. However, he would later sing in Latin, which was, of course, completely incomprehensible to the mostly illiterate local population. The core messages conveyed were that this life is hard and short, but that a new life with Christ follows. Therefore, the interior of the church was designed to attract people to this idea, with colourful images in bright hues standing in stark contrast to the smoky log cabins in which people lived.

Historical Museum, a detail

After visiting the museum, I went for a walk to explore two interesting streets; some say these are the two most beautiful streets in Oslo. Along the way, I also passed by some buildings that aren't as well-known, but are nonetheless quite attractive.

Oslo, a detail

The reason why these two small streets, Damstredet and Telthusbakken, located not far from the centre of Oslo, are considered interesting is that the houses in these streets have largely remained as they were in the past. Due to the concentration of these houses in a small area, they provide a good illustration of how urban Norwegians lived in earlier times.

Square from which Damstredet street begins to descend

Oslo is, of course, developing and this often involves demolishing the old to make way for the new. This is happening less and less haphazardly, not only in Oslo, as people have become more aware of the importance and value of old buildings, while efforts are being made to preserve them. However, success in preserving these structures can vary.

In any case, I first took a walk down Damstredet.

Damstredet Street

Then I climbed a beautiful, but steep path to reach the middle of Telthusbakken.

Along the way, I also noticed a sizable piece of land almost in the centre of Oslo where, I assume, local residents can grow their own vegetables. These are community gardens, established in 1915, making them the oldest community gardens in Oslo. I find this idea really appealing and always wonder if something similar could be set up near the building where I live. However, it seems to me that for various reasons, such a project would not work as well in Belgrade.

Community gardens – small vegetable patches

As I walked along the path beside the community gardens, I not only noticed that the path leads directly to Telthusbakken, but I also spotted Oslo's oldest building, the medieval Old Aker Church (Gamle Aker kirke). It is believed to have been built in 1080 and it is the only church from the Middle Ages in Oslo that has survived to this day.

Telthusbakken Street is straight, while the vegetable patches are to the right

As for the Damstredet and Telthusbakken streets, their beauty comes from the wooden houses that are about 200 years old. Thus collectively, both the streets and the houses represent Norwegian cultural heritage, so it is not allowed for the houses to alter their external appearance, including their facades and surroundings. However, it is perfectly acceptable to modernise the interiors of these houses.

Telthusbakken Street

Now I decided to head back toward the centre and first walked through a cemetery (Vår Frelsers gravlund). I found it interesting to see that many of the graves are from people born in the mid-19th century, indicating that this is quite an old cemetery. Notably, Henrik Ibsen, the famous Norwegian playwright, and Edvard Munch, the renowned Norwegian painter, were also buried here, but I wasn't particularly in the mood to search for their graves.

Old cemetery in Oslo

And yet, quite by accident, I noticed a gravestone which clearly shows that several people buried there have Serbian names. I wonder what fate brought them here.

Old cemetery in Oslo, a detail

At the cemetery, specifically on the trees growing there, I spotted two birds. One was a fieldfare (Turdus pilaris) and the other was a common blackbird (Turdus merula).

Fieldfare

Male common blackbird

By this point, I was quite tired from all the walking I had done that day, but it was still early to return to the room where I was staying. A few hours earlier, I had had a quick lunch, so I decided to go out for a coffee. There were plenty of places where I could sit, but I chose one I had liked the day before, near the Opera in the new district. This meant I had to walk quite a bit out of my way, but in the end, I was satisfied. However, the wind was blowing, making it a bit chilly to sit in the garden, so I didn't stay there for long.

Returning to the apartment was quite straightforward, as I had already become familiar with this part of the city and it was interesting to see some very modern buildings. I assume some are used for commercial purposes, but some also appear to be residential.

Oslo, a detail

Although it was still daylight when I returned to the flat, I was glad to be able to unwind well, as I was leaving Oslo the next day.

I planned the rest of my trip through Norway to be quite relaxed and comfortable. I had decided to rent a car for the next 5 days, as I thought it would be quite challenging to visit the places I was interested in using public transportation. Although renting a car in Norway, like many other things, is not exactly cheap, I believe it would have been more expensive to rely on public transport, plus I’m sure it would have taken me much more time than the 4.5 days I had left during this trip.

To make picking up and returning the car easier, I reserved the car to be picked up and returned at Oslo Airport, where I would also need to go back to before my flight to Belgrade.

Accordingly, the next day I went to the train station relatively early, took the train to the airport and found the car rental company. On the first day, I planned to visit only a couple of places, but they were relatively far apart, plus one of them had specific operating hours, so it was crucial for me to get there while it was open.

I was a bit surprised when they told me they didn’t have cars with manual transmissions, only automatics, even though I had made the reservation a few months earlier. They did offer me a van with a manual transmission, but that really wasn’t suitable for me.

I had driven automatic cars a few times in my life, but there was always someone with me, so I was hesitant. The person at the rental company assured me everything would be fine and took me to the car for a brief tutorial. I didn’t really have a choice. As it turned out, I quickly got used to the new driving system and it didn’t pose any problems for me in the end.

One partial issue was that the GPS system in the car wasn’t very effective, at least not for a foreigner and a tourist. Specifically, it was necessary to enter the exact address in Norwegian for the system to provide accurate directions. Over the next few days, I managed somehow to overcome this challenge, while I also made extensive use of my mobile phone and offline maps that I had downloaded before the trip.

On the bright side, the best aspect of the car was that it was practically brand new – having been driven less than 2000 km. In the following 4.5 days, I ended up driving almost the same distance myself.

Here is the map showing the routes I took:

Norway 2024, part 4 (Fetsund Lenser, Oslo)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 29 May 2026 15:29:00 GMT

I wasn’t in a particular hurry the next morning, primarily because I knew that the museum at my planned destination for the day was only open in the summer. Still, I liked the idea of visiting the Fetsund Lenser site, which is located between the settlements of Nerdrum and Fetsund. It’s better (and closer) to take the train to Nerdrum. So that’s what I did.

Train station in Nerdrum

From there to my destination was less than a kilometre and I quite enjoyed walking through the “sleepy” settlement.

Nerdrum, a detail

Almost the only living beings I saw along the way, aside from a few cars that passed by, were birds. For example, a fieldfare (Turdus pilaris) and a flock in the sky that likely consisted of graylag geese (Anser anser).

Fieldfare

Flock of graylag geese

Following the path, I also arrived at a spot where one can descend to the Glomma River

The Glomma River

The Fetsund Lenser site is a national heritage monument in Norway. During the season, you can visit a museum dedicated to timber floating, which was a method of transporting logs down the river, that also serves as a nature centre. This is because the site is located at the entrance to the Northern Øyeren nature reserve, which is the name for the northernmost inland delta in Europe. Namely, the Glomma River, the longest river in Norway (621 km), flows into Lake Øyeren and creates a delta before continuing as a river until it reaches the sea, where it empties into the Oslofjord.

Fetsund Lenser was used to collect and sort timber logs floating down the Glomma River. The practice of floating cut trees down rivers dates back to the Middle Ages, but significantly expanded from the 16th century with the increased export of timber, particularly to England and the Netherlands. The owners of forests upstream from Fetsund Lenser banded together to create this site. Logs would initially be marked with the owner’s brand and then gathered and sorted here. The season ran from May to September, during which up to 14 million logs could be sorted. This practice continued until 1985, while today the museum includes 2.5 km of floating paths.

The Glomma River and parts of the Fetsund Lenser site

The floating platforms were used by workers who guided the logs. The paths were typically made of four thick boards and were constructed during winter. For everything to function properly, three types of workers were needed: those who worked year-round and lived nearby, those who were hired in the fall to assist with maintenance and cleaning, and seasonal workers. This seasonal rhythm was strictly followed because logs couldn’t be transported down the river in winter, so this time was used for maintaining the site, repairing machinery and boats. Even today, maintenance is carried out in winter, while the museum is open only during the summer.

Since the museum was closed in April, I came here to take a walk by the river and I must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Glomma River and parts of the Fetsund Lenser site

The Glomma River and a walking path

Further along, I saw some small houses between the floating paths, but I’m not sure what their current purpose is.

The Glomma River and parts of the Fetsund Lenser site

The Glomma River and the walking path

Along the walking path, there are occasional informational signs. For instance, one sign notes that Lake Øyeren is home to 25 species of fish, making it the body of water with the highest number of fish species in Norway. Those who are interested and knowledgeable can even fish here.

I, however, was just walking and observing the river and the floating paths stretching down the river.

The Glomma River and parts of the Fetsund Lenser site

But although the river looked very beautiful and placid that day, this can be very deceptive. I passed by a stone pillar marking historical water levels of the river. The Glomma River has occasionally risen significantly and the entire area would become flooded. However, after the floods of 1967 (the level from that year is marked at about a third of the way up the pillar), a dam was constructed, along with diversion tunnels for the water, so the situation is much better today. For example, in 1995, the water flow in the river was much higher than in 1967, but the flood level was significantly lower – a mark that can be seen on the base of the pillar.

Pillar marking the historical water levels of the Glomma River

Having photographed the stone pillar, I continued with my walk.

The Glomma River

Branch of the Glomma River

Soon, I also arrived at a sawmill. The first sawmill was established here in 1908, but it was replaced by a new one in the mid-20th century, which burned down in 1986. When the museum was opened, the currently visible sawmill was donated by a municipality and relocated here.

Sawmill at the Fetsund Lenser site

The sawmill is still used today to cut materials for the maintenance and restoration of the buildings and facilities.

Sawmill at the Fetsund Lenser site

Logs are transferred from the river to the sawmill via a "bridge" and then they are cut into planks there.

Sawmill at the Fetsund Lenser site

I walked along the path underneath the bridge and continued further. There is a café-restaurant here, but like the rest of the open-air museum, it was closed.

Fetsund Lenser

And then I reached a place where I could cross onto a floating path. Although there was a warning sign stating that the paths are used at one's own risk due to strong river currents, I still felt compelled to walk a bit on it. I followed the advice on the warning sign to stay in the middle of the path. This was truly important, as I didn't see anyone around and it would have been quite inconvenient for me to fall into the cold river.

Fetsund Lenser

Fetsund Lenser and the Glomma River

Although the surface of the river in this area was as smooth as glass, it was clear that the current was moving quite swiftly in the middle. However, I had no intention of going very far.

Fetsund Lenser and the Glomma River

As I was returning to the solid ground, I remembered to take a selfie, making sure to watch where I was standing.

At the Fetsund Lenser site

I played around with photographing a bit more and soon I was back on terra firma. The little adventure went well.

Fetsund Lenser and the Glomma River

Continuing my walk, I photographed the small houses connected by floating paths, as well as the left bank of the Glomma River.

Fetsund Lenser and the Glomma River

I also photographed the wide path and, further along, I spotted some people.

Path alongside the Glomma River

I have already mentioned that the Northern Øyeren nature reserve, established in 1975, is located here. This part of the lake with its delta, where there is practically a wetland area, holds international significance due to the thousands of migratory birds that stop here every spring and fall. Not only does the delta provide food, but it also offers safe resting spots.

I did see some birds, but I think they were local species without international significance. However, I still found them quite interesting. These included the Eurasian nuthatch (Sitta europaea) and the Eurasian blue tit (Cyanistes caeruleus).

Eurasian nuthatch

Eurasian blue tit

I walked for about 1.5 km along the river and arrived at a small channel where boats were parked, having been pulled out of the water for the winter.

The Glomma River

Branch of the Glomma River

When I decided that I had walked enough along the river, I started heading back towards the train station. At first, I followed the river, but then I ventured into the residential areas, walking through the local streets.

Selfie beside the Glomma River

Nerdrum settlement

I didn’t see any people, but I did spot and photograph a white wagtail (Motacilla alba).

White wagtail

At the station, I had enough time to ponder and my thoughts turned to railways and the modern age. I found it curious to see what a 21st-century railway station looks like, especially in such a small place. There was no one around – just a small building with a bench, a ticket vending machine and a monitor displaying the arrival times of the next trains and their directions.

Perhaps nothing more is needed, but I’m “old school” and appreciate human interaction, even at railway stations when buying tickets. I understand that this way is more efficient on paper (since it doesn’t require paying staff, who are considered a “cost” in economics), but in reality, I’m not sure. Ticket prices tend to rise quickly due to “greater efficiency” and profits continuously “must” increase to raise stock values, so for passengers, it’s about the same in the end.

I’m beginning to be bothered by how everything is viewed through the lens of money. I remembered the self-critique from the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/norway-2/) and the mentioning of the past enrichment through the slave trade. If that were “in” today, people in positions of power would have no problems seeking to profit and increase stock values, even through the slave trade. I am always shocked when I realise the boundless greed that fills so many members of the human race. Well, that’s how my thoughts went from the local railway station to trade with human beings.

Still, I also observed my surroundings and noticed that, even in late April, there was still snow on some of the slopes.

Snow around Nerdrum

Since the train arrived on time, I settled in comfortably, and about 20 minutes later I was at Oslo Central Station.

Then I headed towards a museum, taking one of the main streets in the city, Karl Johans St. (Karl Johans Gate).

This street extends from the railway station to the Royal Palace. The first part is earmarked for pedestrians, but later on, it accommodates both pedestrians and vehicles, though it remains commercial throughout. It's a lovely street for a stroll, passing by some beautiful buildings. Along the way, you come across the Parliament building, a park in front of the National Theatre and the theatre itself, while at the elevated areas, you can see the Royal Palace surrounded by a park. You also pass by the University of Oslo.

Pedestrian section of Karl Johans gate

Karl Johans Gate, a detail

At one point, I realised I needed to grab something to eat, but I was eager to reach the museum before it closed. This meant that a regular sit-down restaurant wasn't an option. I must admit that restaurants often don’t suit me because of the time I spend there – first waiting for the menu, then for the food to arrive and finally for the bill. This is fine when I’m in a relaxed mood, but when I’m sightseeing or in a hurry, it’s simply inconvenient. On the other hand, I need to eat.

This time, I opted for a fast food restaurant – something like a Swedish version of McDonald’s. Since I eat such food maybe once every two years, I wasn’t worried about it and ended up being quite satisfied – full and not having spent much time.

With my stomach full, I continued the stroll down Karl Johans Gate and soon passed by the Norwegian Parliament – Stortinget.

Norwegian Parliament building

The Stortinget Building, with its yellow brick façade and granite foundation, was completed in 1866 and it houses the Norwegian Parliament. Given the current size of the parliament, several other buildings are also used for its functions.

Although the building features various architectural styles, the most beautiful part is the western façade, which faces Storting Park (Stortingsparken).

Norwegian Parliament building

There are in fact three green areas that start here, each extending in a linear fashion and separated by streets.

Part of the park in the centre of Oslo

In the third section, as viewed from the Parliament building, known as Student Garden Park (Studenterlunden Park), there is the National Theatre in Oslo (Det Norske Teatret), which I mentioned in a previous part of my travelogue about the visit to Norway in April 2024.

National Theatre in Oslo

However, probably the most important building you can see here, at the end of Karl Johans Gate, is the Royal Palace (Det Kongelige Slott), situated in a park open to the public.

Royal Palace in Oslo

The palace was built in the first half of the 19th century for King Charles III John of Norway (Karl III Johan) (1763-1844), after whom the street is named. He was also King Charles XIV John of Sweden, as Sweden and Norway were united from 1814 following the Napoleonic Wars. Despite his regal titles, he was born Jean-Baptiste Jules Bernadotte, i.e., he was born in France and served as a Marshal of France during the Napoleonic Wars. Interestingly, in 1810, he was chosen to be the successor to the then Swedish king, Charles XIII of Sweden, who had no children, and was formally adopted by him.

As for Karl Johans Gate, in this part of the street where the parks extend on one side, it takes on a more formal and elegant appearance, with upscale hotels and restaurants located on the other side.

Karl Johans Gate, a detail

But, even along the side streets of Karl Johans Gate, there are interesting sights to see. As I’ve mentioned earlier, I had the impression that Oslo has more monuments and sculptures scattered throughout its streets than any other city I've visited.

Oslo, a detail

Near the end of the street, across from the park and the National Theatre, there is another significant institution: the central building of the University of Oslo, along with several other university buildings.

Parts of the University of Oslo (a little farther, on the left-hand side, you can see the Royal Palace)

I walked along some paths to reach the back side of the university's central building, where I first photographed the Old National Gallery. Then, I headed to my main destination at this time: the Historical Museum (Historisk Museum), which I was eager to explore.

Old National Gallery

Norway 2024, part 3 (Oslo)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 22 May 2026 19:53:00 GMT

Returning from the Bygdøy Peninsula, where I visited the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, I got off in the centre of Oslo at a bus stop near the National Theatre. However, I only saw the building from the back, as my plan was to head towards the Pipervika bay.

National Theatre in Oslo

The first performance at this theatre took place in 1899 and the building was at first entirely privately-owned. However, due to some financial issues, the state began to provide some financial support. I'm not sure what the situation is today.

So, I headed towards the Pipervika bay, which is part of the Oslofjord, with the intention of passing by the Oslo City Hall.

Oslo City Hall

Here is where the city government and various municipal organisations are housed, while the building was constructed between 1931 and 1950. As it can be seen, the structure is made of red brick, with two prominent towers; one is 63 m tall and the other is 66 m tall. Interestingly, in the eastern tower, which I could see since the western one was covered with scaffolding for renovations, there is a carillon with 49 bells. By the way (since I didn't know this before), carillon is a musical instrument consisting of at least 23 bronze bells, typically housed in a bell tower of a church or a municipal building, as is the case here.

Oslo City Hall

The building faces the bay and the Oslofjord.

View at the Oslofjord

Since there is a large bay here, it is quite normal to see a lot of seabirds. Here are two of them, both are gulls. In the foreground is a lesser black-backed gull (Larus fuscus), while in the background is a black-headed gull (Larus ridibundus).

Gulls in Oslo

Now I headed from City Hall Square towards a very lively area of Oslo called Aker Brygge. Here, the first thing you come across is the Nobel Peace Centre – a museum dedicated to the Nobel Peace Prize, Alfred Nobel and the laureates of the prize.

Nobel Peace Centre

Alfred Nobel (1833-1896) was a Swedish chemist, inventor (he discovered dynamite), engineer and industrialist who left his substantial personal fortune to a foundation that funds the Nobel Prizes awarded since 1901 (with occasional exceptions). According to Alfred Nobel’s will, prizes are awarded in the fields of chemistry, physics, medicine, literature and peace. Since 1969, the foundation has also awarded the Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences.

Interestingly, the Peace Prize is awarded in Norway, while all the other prizes are awarded in Sweden. This might seem unsurprising since Nobel was Swedish, but the reason why he designated Norway for the Peace Prize remains uncertain. There are speculations, of course, one of which is that, during Nobel's lifetime, Sweden and Norway were in a union that Norwegians reluctantly joined in 1814 when Sweden took control of their country. It is believed that Nobel thought awarding the Peace Prize in Norway could promote “friendship among nations.”

In any case, from the Nobel Peace Centre, a pleasant promenade begins in the Aker Brygge neighbourhood filled with cafés and restaurants. Since it was a sunny day, the beautiful weather attracted many residents of Oslo.

Promenade in the Aker Brygge neighbourhood

I continued my walk along the spacious promenade with a clear plan to find a place for lunch. I didn't hesitate for long, as I was drawn to a restaurant by the water that caught my eye.

Restaurant within the Aker Brygge neighbourhood

I sat down at a table where I had a relatively good view and enjoyed the sunshine. On the other side of the Pipervika bay is a fortress that I planned to visit later, so this was kind of a preparatory moment for me.

Akershus Fortress

I decided to have Norwegian shrimps, which are considered a particularly high-quality type of shrimps, plus I also ordered Norwegian beer in order to try it, although I usually have trouble when I drink beer during the day – it tends to make me feel sleepy. My plan for the day certainly did not include an afternoon nap, but I couldn’t help it...

Norwegian shrimps

Norwegian beer

The nice weather and sunshine shouldn't deceive anyone – it was chilly enough that I felt perfectly comfortable sitting in my warm down jacket.

By the way, although I didn’t get any dessert here, that didn’t stop me from making the famous Norwegian sweet at home, which has both its official name and a nickname it’s known by – The World’s Best Cake. Of course, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but for me, it was easier to try making this than Norwegian shrimp, which I certainly can’t buy in Belgrade. The result was quite positive and while I don’t think this is truly the best cake in the world, it was definitely very tasty and quickly eaten.

My World’s Best Cake placed on a platter I have made myself

WORLD’S BEST CAKE

110 g butter
125 g sugar
4 egg yolks
4 tablespoons milk
150 g all purpose flour
6 g of baking powder
6 g of vanilla sugar
4 egg whites
200 g sugar
50 g thinly sliced almonds
50 g sugar
2 egg yolks
2 tablespoons cornstarch
500 ml milk
12 g of vanilla sugar
250 ml double cream

My World’s Best Cake served on a plate which I have, naturally, made myself

Cream the butter (at room temperature) and sugar until fluffy. Add the egg yolks one at a time, continuing to beat. Finally, add the milk and mix everything well. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and vanilla sugar, then gently fold it into the creamed butter mixture.

Spread the batter thinly in a rectangular baking pan (about 30 x 40 cm) and set aside. Beat the egg whites and sugar until stiff peaks form. Spread this meringue over the yellow batter. Sprinkle with the almond flakes and bake at 170°C.

Meanwhile, prepare the yellow filling by whisking the egg yolks and sugar until smooth, then add the cornstarch. Continue whisking until the mixture turns pale yellow. Bring the milk to a boil and add the vanilla sugar. Before the milk actually boils, pour it into the egg yolk mixture while whisking continuously to prevent curdling. Once well combined, return it to the saucepan and cook over the stove until thickened. Set aside to cool completely.

Whip the heavy cream to soft peaks, then fold it into the cooled yellow filling.

Once the cake has baked and cooled, cut it in two. Place one half on a serving tray with the almond and meringue side facing down. Spread the cooled filling over it, then place the second layer on top with the almond and meringue side facing up. Refrigerate to chill and before serving decorate with fresh berries.

As for the Aker Brygge neighbourhood, it was once a hub of industry, but things changed in the 1980s and 1990s, and it has since become a popular spot for entertainment, dining and shopping. Naturally, apartment prices have also soared.

After the pleasant lunch, I strolled to the end of the promenade.

Promenade in the Aker Brygge neighbourhood

Aker Brygge neighbourhood, a detail

Here is also the Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art. In fact, the museum is located on a small peninsula that extends from Aker Brygge and has been housed in a modern building since 2012. The building was designed by an Italian architect.

The Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art

I didn’t plan a visit to the museum, but I noticed a few interesting birds here. The first was a red-breasted merganser (Mergus serrator), while the other were two black-headed gulls (Larus ridibundus).

Red-breasted merganser

Two black-headed gulls

So, I reached the end of the land, which meant I was on the shore of the Oslofjord. As I’ve mentioned earlier, the bay of the Oslofjord on the western side, where Aker Brygge is located, is called Pipervika, while on the opposite side of the bay is the Akershus Fortress.

End of the dry land and the Oslofjord

Oslofjord and the Akershus Fortress

I started heading back precisely in order to cross to the eastern side of the bay, as I planned to visit the Akershus Fortress next.

View at the Pipervika bay and the Akershus Fortress

However, because of the beer, I wasn't feeling very energetic, so I first stopped at a café on the promenade to have a coffee. It was just what I needed.

After this break, I continued exploring Oslo and started to walk from City Hall Square towards the fortress. The incline isn’t steep, but it does offer a nice view of the square.

View at the Pipervika bay, Aker Brygge and the City Hall Square

The Akershus Fortress is also known as Akershus Castle and its construction began in the late 13th century. Its original purpose was to serve as a royal residence and as a stronghold to protect the city of Oslo, which was developing to the east of the fortress. Over time, the castle and its surrounding fortress have been modified, especially in the early 17th century and later in the 18th century. Naturally, the fortress was used for military purposes and continues to function as a military base even today.

Akershus Fortress, a detail

I found it interesting to read that the fortress was never captured by foreign enemies, despite several attempts. However, it did surrender to Nazi Germany in 1940 without a fight. The Germans used the fortress for various purposes, including executing captured members of the Norwegian resistance movement. What was even more intriguing was that, after World War II, Vidkun Quisling was executed here in 1945. Quisling was a military officer and politician who collaborated with the Nazis and led the Norwegian government during the war. After the war, he was tried and executed in October, while his name has become synonymous with "traitor" and "collaborator" in many languages, including English – where "quisling" and its plural " quislings" denote traitors to one's country and collaborators (of enemies). So, he was executed right here, at the Akershus Fortress.

Akershus Fortress, a detail

Needless to say, in April 2024, everything was quite lovely and peaceful, so much so that a European herring gull (Larus argentatus) was calmly standing a few metres away from me, enjoying the beautiful sunny day just as I was.

European herring gull

As I’ve said before, this is an active military base and I did see people in uniform, but I didn't take any pictures of them.

Akershus Fortress, a detail

As for the castle, like a few other museums located in this area, it is open for visits, but I hadn’t planned on going inside. It was quite enough for me just to walk around the grounds.

Akershus Fortress, a detail

From here, there is also a beautiful view of the Oslofjord.

View of the Oslofjord from the area of the Akershus Fortress

Then I made a wider loop around the castle before heading towards the exit from the fortress.

Akershus Fortress, a detail

I soon set out through the streets of Oslo, as my plan was to continue my exploration further east. Along the way, I passed various houses and buildings – some old and some new.

Oslo, a detail

My goal was to reach another bay within the Oslofjord where the Oslo Opera House is located.

Oslo Opera House is on the left and the Munch Museum is on the right

Oslo Opera House

It was already late afternoon (around 5-6 p.m.), but the days in mid-April are quite long in Northern Europe. Darkness only begins to fall after 9 p.m. At around 5-6 in the afternoon, provided it's not cloudy, the sun shines brightly, making it an ideal time to observe the interesting architecture of the Opera House and other buildings.

However, what particularly fascinated me right from the start was the fact that in this weather (it was sunny, but only 11°C) some Oslo residents were daring enough not only to sunbathe in swimsuits by the fjord, but also to go into the water and swim.

Going for a swim at 11°C

In any case, I had no intention of dipping even a single finger into what was undoubtedly icy water by my standards. Instead, I continued my walk and taking photos.

Oslo, a detail

Thus I circled the bay and slowly approached the Opera House.

The building, completed in 2007, houses the Norwegian National Opera and Ballet. It is vast, with a total area of 49,000 sq. m, 1,100 rooms and three stages. It is the largest cultural building erected in Norway since around 1300, when the Trondheim Cathedral was built.

Oslo Opera House

On the outside, the building is particularly notable for its details made of Carrara marble and white granite, as well as the glass-clad central section. The design was conceived to make the building resemble a glacier rising from the Oslofjord.

Oslo Opera House, a detail

What gives this building its unique charm is that the Opera House design includes a feature allowing visitors (those exploring the exterior) to climb up to the roof.

Oslo Opera House, a detail

You can access the roof via a slope or by using stairs built alongside a low wall that serves as a railing. On the other hand, there is a sign indicating that bicycles and skateboards are not allowed and it also notes that the stairs and slope can be slippery, so climbing is at your own risk. Naturally, I climbed up, but there was no real risk as everything was dry.

On the roof of the Oslo Opera House

It is truly nice to come here, as there is a wonderful view in all directions. For instance, you can see the sculpture "She Lies", created by the German-Italian artist Monica Bonvicini.

View at the sculpture and a part of the Oslofjord’s bay

There was also a young gull patiently posing, most likely a European herring gull (Larus argentatus).

Juvenile European herring gull

You can also see the Munch Museum and parts of the Bjørvika neighbourhood.

Munch Museum

The Munch Museum was founded in 1963 and was previously located elsewhere. However, since the summer of 2021, the exhibits have been moved to this new building, while the museum officially opened in October of the same year.

As for the Bjørvika neighbourhood, it was a part of Oslo that, until about twenty years ago, was a container port. Then a new urban redevelopment project began and today it is a well-developed area intended to be Oslo's new centre of culture. The Akerselva River also runs through this area.

Part of the Bjørvika neighbourhood

After climbing to the roof of the Opera House, I descended to the promenade around the building and then passed by the Munch Museum, though I had no intention of visiting it. I was starting to feel a bit tired and wanted to return to my room earlier since I hadn’t slept enough the previous night; at least, that’s how I felt throughout the day. I decided to head back to the flat where I had rented a room by going through the Bjørvika neighbourhood, following the Akerselva River.

Part of the Bjørvika neighbourhood

When I reached one of the larger streets, I realised that it should have been the time of day when traffic is usually at its peak. However, I didn’t see any of that in Oslo. I would later come to understand, at the end of my travels in Norway, that numerous highways run beneath the city. Drivers likely use these routes instead of the surface streets, which are filled with traffic lights and pedestrian crossings.

Traffic jam in the streets of Oslo

All in all, I had enough time to run some errands and also go to bed early, as I had plans for the next day – to explore Oslo and its surroundings again. More specifically, I planned to start with the surrounding areas and then return to the city centre.

Norway 2024, part 2 (Oslo)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 15 May 2026 15:27:00 GMT

At the end of the 18th century, over 90% of Norway's population lived in rural areas. Unlike the rest of Europe, Norway did not have villages. Until the 18th century, most peasants rented land from the king or the Church, but this began to change over time. By the 19th century, more and more people were buying their own land. Although these farms were relatively small, there were certainly some peasants who accumulated larger properties. Most peasants lived off farming, but there was also variation, such as combining farming with fishing or forestry.

In line with this, the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History showcases numerous structures that have been relocated from various parts of Norway, clearly illustrating how people once lived in the interior of the country.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Given Norway's climate and topographical features, summer pasturing of livestock in the mountains was a regular routine. There were even cases where the same agricultural farms had several summer dairies at different elevations to make the most of seasonal vegetation. The primary livestock consisted of cows and goats, from which milk was regularly collected and processed into butter and cheese.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

In addition, summer grass was also mown to ensure food for the livestock during the long winters. It was also necessary to provide facilities where the hay could be stored for a sufficient period, until the next season of fresh grass.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

As I’ve mentioned, not all houses were small, such as one built in the Trøndelag region around 1800.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Although the house is older, the interior is furnished to illustrate how it would have looked in the 1960s if a family with children had lived there.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

While walking through the open-air museum on this beautiful sunny day, I passed by traditional fences. I'm not sure if they are there merely to recreate the appearance of agricultural properties or if they are still used today to prevent wild animals from passing through.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Soon, I arrived at a group of houses from the Hardanger region, which served similar functions as other houses on agricultural farms. Some were for people, for living, cooking and laundry; some were for storing products made; some for livestock or hay; and some for tools. Or a combination of these purposes.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

One detail that caught my attention, which I also noticed later in some other houses, is visible in the next photograph. Note the "wall" on the right-hand side and the semi-enclosed porch. I assume these features were designed to reduce the effect of drifting snow during the long, snowy Norwegian winters and to allow people to enter and exit the houses, as well as pass by them.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Eventually, I reached a house from south-western Norway that was built in 1845.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

As I could notice in the case of some other buildings, this house also had a roof covered with a thin layer of earth and grass. Additionally, this type of house was typically built in coastal areas with less wood available, so stone was used in the construction. The houses also had side extensions (lean-tos) protected by stone, where peat was stored in order to be used as fuel.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Here, I also went inside and took a closer look at the interior of the house.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

As I continued along the wide path, I glanced back once more at this house that I found particularly charming.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Soon, I arrived at a large structure from 1838 that used to serve as a complex barn. Such buildings were common on large agricultural farms in the south-western part of the country.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The building features two stories in the part where threshing was done, as well as ramps for horse-drawn carts used to bring in the grain. Inside the building, there is also a room for storing grains and a stable for horses.

A similar ramp can be seen on a smaller structure that served both as a granary and a stable for horses, which were considered the most valuable agricultural animals. To the left of this structure is a smaller building with an enclosed area, which was used as a pigsty.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The buildings in this open-air museum are organised by the regions from which they originate, while different parts are enclosed by traditional wooden fences.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The next region displayed is Hallingdal, located about 150 km northwest of Oslo. The buildings are arranged around a courtyard, vividly illustrating how various structures used for different purposes were built around a shared central space.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Here, I climbed the ramp of one building in order to see how the interior was organised and this is clearly visible in the second photograph – from the upper level, you can see a room that extends the full height of the building, where hay was pitched from above.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Here, too, you can see grass-covered roofs, while some of the smaller buildings served as goat stables.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The next group of buildings is from the Numedal region, located west of Oslo, which is also organised around a central courtyard.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

In the previous photo, on the left side, you can see a house the ground floor of which was built around 1209 and that served as a large storehouse. In the elevated ground floor (as the house is raised), which is the oldest part of the building, food was stored, while textiles, clothing, and beds were kept on the upper floor. Originally, the first level stood on large stone blocks, but in the 18th century, it was raised onto wooden pillars.

Next to this building is a wooden stable from the second half of the 18th century, used for housing horses, sheep and heifers, with hay stored in the upper floor. This stable has a ramp for hay delivery, while its roof is made of wooden planks, which was common in this region.

Another building within this courtyard features a ramp for hay delivery and a grass-covered roof. This is a stable from the 17th century.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

A farmhouse from the second half of the 18th century also comes from this region.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The house, which looks charming and fairy-tale-like from the outside, has a very simple ground plan and it consists of just two rooms. The entrance is positioned in the middle, but it practically leads directly into the main room, from which you enter a smaller room.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Then I moved on to the next group of buildings, which come from the Setesdal region in southern Norway.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Here, I first came across a building from the second half of the 17th century that served both as storage and as living quarters in the loft. It is unusual that it has three stories.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Next is a house with an open hearth, built around 1700.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

First, I took note of a type of enclosed porch with minimal openings for light. Then, I peered inside to see what the open hearth looked like.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The third house in the sequence, built around 1700, is also a combination of storage space on the ground floor and living quarters on the upper floor. During the summer, both floors were used for sleeping.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

And finally, the fourth house in this series is a farmhouse from the second half of the 17th century, which also features an enclosed porch. Inside, the rooms are arranged to reflect what they would have looked like at the time of the original construction.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Since I wanted to join the guided tour organised by the museum on this day at 1 p.m., I concluded my visit to the open-air museum here. As I walked towards The Square within the museum, I passed by a structure typical of the Sami people whom I talked more about in the previous part of my Norway travelogue.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Now I returned to the larger buildings near the museum entrance, where the guided tour was being offered on that day. It was a fortunate coincidence for me and I was glad to take advantage of the opportunity. I arrived just 5 minutes before the tour started.

The Square

The theme of the tour was how the Norwegian aristocracy lived from the 1600s to the 20th century. It was interesting to see some exhibits and learn various details, though my brief conclusion was that this society was quite "politically incorrect," or perhaps it's just a trend now to emphasise certain aspects. For starters, the tour guide mentioned that many Norwegian merchants had profited from the slave trade. She added that this is not often talked about, but it is a "fact that many of them were involved in this kind of trade." She spoke with a tone that seemed uncomfortable on one hand, while on the other hand, it was as if she was following the current trend of openly discussing "past wrongs" to bring historical balance.

In line with this, she constantly emphasised how the aristocracy (which included officers, clergy and wealthy merchants, as there were not many true aristocrats since the king was in Denmark, i.e., Copenhagen, during that period) insisted on being separate from peasants, to be "better" and "more noble" regardless of the financial status of others.

No amount of attempts to "make amends" today can rectify past injustices, though it is certainly better to discuss them than to sweep them under the rug. What is always important is how people behave today, regardless of their status or class. And if someone thinks that there are no "classes" in societies that consider themselves civilised, they are gravely mistaken.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

One of the more interesting details was the exhibit showing what a "gentleman" had to carry when travelling. There were various small items, but also a couple of pistols, because you never knew when an insult might occur and then, of course, one would need to go out for a duel.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

On the Bygdøy Peninsula, where I visited the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, there are several other important museums. Probably the most significant among them is the Viking Ship Museum (Vikingskipshuset), but it was closed for renovation until 2027. However, I didn’t feel too disappointed, as I had visited a similar museum in Denmark (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/denmark-1/).

In any case, after the organised tour concluded, I left the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History and waited for a bus in order to return to the city centre. I got off at the National Theatre in Oslo.

Norway 2024, part 1 (Oslo)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 08 May 2026 17:55:00 GMT

For a number of years, I have been thinking about visiting Norway. I must admit that I have one specific trip in mind for this country, but that will still have to wait. For now, I have decided that my first visit to Norway will last a week, with the idea of spending that time exploring the capital city and then various parts of the southern regions of the country. Here is the map showing where I ended up travelling:

To start with, I took a late flight from Belgrade to Oslo and then I arrived at Oslo's Central Station by express train. From there, I walked to the flat where I had rented a room.

Norway is known as one of the most expensive countries in Europe, so I decided to "save" a bit by booking just a room within a flat. However, I must admit that the hosts won me over with the location of their dwelling – just a dozen-minute walk from the city's main train station. On the other hand, both the hosts and the flat were great, so I was more than happy with my choice.

Oslo is considered a very safe city, so there was no reason to worry about walking alone on the streets around midnight. After all, they were mostly empty and although I was eager to get to bed, I stopped at a few spots to photograph Oslo at night. I figured I wouldn’t have another chance to see the city in that light, which turned out to be a completely accurate assumption.

Oslo at night

The next day, after a good night's sleep, I first had a pleasant chat with one of the hosts who was working from home that day. Then I made coffee and went through my morning "rituals" before getting ready and heading out for a walk around Oslo and its surroundings.

I had already made a plan back at home about what I wanted to see and visit during this week, so it was time to get started. To begin with, I familiarised myself with the city. I first returned to the river I had crossed the previous evening and that flows through Oslo. The river is called the Akerselva.

The Akerselva

Here, I also passed through a very modern part of Oslo near the train station.

Oslo, a detail

Although numerous bicycles may be seen in Oslo, the situation isn’t quite like in Denmark and Copenhagen. In addition, the city also has a very well-developed public transportation system.

Oslo, a detail

I wasn’t exactly wandering aimlessly here, as I was actually a woman on a mission with a specific task to complete. As I’ve mentioned before, I really enjoy coming up with a task for myself in a foreign city that isn’t just typical tourist sightseeing. It makes me feel more like I’m a local. That was the case in Oslo as well.

I had a situation similar to the one I had in Bern (see: https://www.svudapodji.com/en/fgs-6/). Several years ago, I had bought some Norwegian kroner in Belgrade, apparently with the idea and hope that I would one day travel to Norway. Time passed, I didn’t travel to Norway, while those banknotes were withdrawn from circulation, so they could no longer be used for payments. The only thing to do now was to exchange them for new banknotes at the central bank of Norway (Norges Bank). So, my task for that morning was first to go to the bank to take care of that and then continue on.

However, my path took me past the cathedral, so I thought it would be better to visit it right away rather than try to fit it into my schedule for the next day. That’s what I did.

Oslo Cathedral

To start with, I approached the church from the "back." Since this part of Oslo has a gentle slope, the church was built on a flattened area, so the back part of the churchyard is one floor higher than the street running alongside it. Between 1841 and 1895, along the streets surrounding the churchyard on three sides, a building with arcades was constructed, as seen in the previous photo. At the back of this building, behind the arcades, there is a staircase leading up to the rear part of the churchyard. This building is called Basarene or Oslo Bazaars.

Basarene in the street behind the Cathedral

Churchyard and the Cathedral

Oslo Cathedral (Domkirken) was built in the second half of the 17th century and was originally dedicated to Our Saviour. It was extensively restored in the 19th century and again in 1950, so little remains of the original structure.

Oslo Cathedral

Oslo Cathedral, a detail

The cathedral is very beautiful and I found its ground plan particularly interesting. Excluding the area beneath the bell tower that you pass through to enter the church, the cathedral has a floor plan in the shape of a Greek cross (equal length of the arms), which is what caught my attention. Typically, the transept is shorter than the nave of the church, but that is not the case here.

Oslo Cathedral, a detail

The ceiling is covered with frescoes that were created between 1936 and 1950.

Oslo Cathedral, a detail

The only elements that have survived from the original edifice are the pulpit and the altar. Both were carved in the 17th century.

Oslo Cathedral, a detail

The organ, located above the entrance to the nave of the church, dates back to the 18th century.

Oslo Cathedral, a detail

I didn’t stay here for long and then continued my walk towards the bank, while also getting to know some basic directions within the city. To start with, in front of the cathedral, there is the main square, known as Stortorvet.

Stortorvet

A little further along, I stopped again to glance back at the cathedral first and also to look down Karl Johans gt., which is a pedestrian street in this area and one of the main commercial streets in the city.

Oslo Cathedral

Karl Johans gt.

The street leading south from the cathedral is lined with beautiful buildings and I also began to notice the many cast sculptures I frequently encountered. In the end, my conclusion was that nowhere else had I seen more sculptures on city streets than in Oslo.

Oslo, a detail

Soon, I arrived at Norges Bank and quickly took care of what I needed to do. With the now usable banknotes, I happily exited onto the street and went to a bus stop, as my next destination was a bit far from the centre and required public transportation. I had already purchased a bus ticket from a store chain that sells them, using a credit card, so I was fully prepared. The bus arrived shortly and I boarded.

This entire time, from the moment I left the flat until I got on the bus, everything seemed to be going smoothly and effortlessly, including my orientation. I wondered if I might have lived here in a past life, making Oslo feel so familiar, or if it was just my travel experience and ability to adapt to new environments. Additionally, I had recently mastered using a geographic map on my phone when I don’t have internet access, while I’ve always been good with maps, so perhaps that was the secret.

Be as it may, I found a nice spot on the bus from where I could watch the parts of the city we were passing through. I was also intrigued when a group of children, apparently from a kindergarten, boarded at one of the stops accompanied with a couple of teachers. Since the seats were already occupied and there didn’t seem to be enough anyway, the teachers told the children to sit on the floor in a section where there was more space. I was surprised but just observed the whole situation. Norway is a very clean country, but the floors of their buses are as dirty as public transportation floors anywhere else. I think it's more about what is considered acceptable in the given society.

Along the way, I took a picture of a marina from the bus, as the sun was shining and I was near the sea. Specifically, Oslo is located at the end of the Oslofjord, which is a deep and narrow bay leading to the Skagerrak strait and further out to the North Sea.

Oslo, a detail

After about a 20-minute ride, I got off at the Bygdøy Peninsula, in front of the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History (Norsk Folkemuseum). The museum is considered one of the best in the city, especially for those interested in this type of exhibits, which I am.

Although there are several indoor sections of the museum where exhibits are displayed, the core of the museum is its "collection" in the open air. This collection consists of buildings, primarily houses and outbuildings from agricultural farms, but also other types of structures – totalling 160 historical buildings on display.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

First, you arrive at The Square, an area of the museum where visits start. There, I saw that I could tour one of the buildings as part of an organised tour that began at 1 p.m. (the building on the left in the previous photo), which gave me enough time to explore the open-air sections of the museum. However, I first stopped by another city house on The Square, which had a well-designed exhibition detailing the traditional life of the Sámi peoples, also known as Laplanders, who are most numerous in Norway. The Sámi traditionally inhabit the far north of Europe, including parts of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia. (In Sweden and Finland, they live in the province and district of Lapland, hence the alternative name.)

When I say they "traditionally inhabit" the north of Europe, I mean that while they used to live only in traditional areas, it is now believed that there are more Sámi people, for example, in Oslo than in the north of Norway.

The Sámi are not a single nation, not only because they live in different countries, but also because they practice different religions (Protestantism and Orthodoxy) and speak different languages, though all belong to the same language group. Nevertheless, they have significant commonalities and therefore represent an indigenous native community. Regarding their traditional clothing, there are certain differences, but also numerous similarities in patterns and colours.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Of course, because of the icy northern climate, the Sámi have developed a way of life closely tied to reindeer. For starters, reindeer fur is exceptionally good at keeping warm, considering that winter temperatures can drop to as low as -50°C.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

The Sámi managed to live and survive in these conditions not only because they knew how to keep warm, but also because they traded reindeer hides and fur, as well as meat and fish, with people from southern territories or exchanged their goods for flour, sugar, cloth and kitchen utensils.

In addition to reindeer fur, they used all other parts of the animal – meat for food, hides for clothing and footwear, tendons for ropes and thread, and bones and antlers for useful tools and decorative items.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

Also, the Sámi milked reindeer, as their milk is highly nutritious. They even made cheese, butter and fermented dairy products with herbs, which they then sold. However, this required a lot of work, so over time, this practice was abandoned and trade shifted almost entirely to meat.

Some Sámi people traditionally lived in tents (goahti), which resemble Native American teepees. However, circumstances, especially after World War II, have changed significantly, leading to changes in their lifestyle as well.

The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History, a detail

After finishing the visit to the exhibition on the Sámi people and their traditional way of life, I went outside to explore this somewhat atypical museum. First, I came across some larger houses that seemed a bit more urban. However, one of the most interesting exhibits was a wooden church, as one of my goals for this trip was to visit several such churches.

To start with, I passed by the main house from the Karterud farm dating back to the 18th century. It is said that the first potatoes in Norway were planted on this farm.

Main building from the Karterud farm

Nearby is the Parsonage from Leikanger, built in 1752, which comes with a (French) garden. Traditionally, priests were provided with a house and estate to ensure a regular income. Since the clergy had direct contact with the population, they also passed on to their congregations some European influences, such as gardening, by example.

Parsonage

There is the Christian Meeting House from the latter half of the 19th century nearby as well. It was used not only for gatherings of local residents, but also served as a school and church. However, since 1860, schools in Norway have been required to be housed in separate buildings.

Christian Meeting House

Needless to say, I won’t detail each of the nearly 200 exhibits in the museum, but at the start of my visit, I was particularly interested in certain exhibits. In this part of the museum, what intrigued me the most was a wooden church – the Stave Church from Gol.

Let me explain what this is. It is one of the now rare ancient wooden churches known as Stavkirke or Stavkyrke. These are essentially stave churches (stave being the name for wooden load-bearing columns). These churches were built during the Middle Ages across Northern Europe, with some dating back to around 800 years ago, but they are now mostly found in Norway. This was one of the most important things I wanted to see in this country, so it made sense to start with one that is easily accessible, which is this one at the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History.

The Stave Church from Gol can be seen to the left

The stave church from Gol was built around 1200 and was to be replaced by a new church around 1880. Fortunately, the Society for the Preservation of Norwegian Ancient Monuments purchased the church and donated it to the king, who then funded its relocation to the Bygdøy Peninsula in 1884. Naturally, the church needed to be restored, but the restoration was carried out according to what was presumed to have been its original appearance. Missing parts were modelled after the Borgund Stave Church.

This part of the museum also houses King Oscar II’s Collection. At that time, King Oscar II was both the King of Sweden (1872-1907) and the King of Norway (1872-1905). He took an interest not only in the church, but also financed the relocation of four other structures, as the idea was to demonstrate his genuine interest in Norway. Interestingly, this collection is considered the world’s first open-air museum.

One of these structures is the Summer Cabin from Støylsemne, from the 15th century, which was used in one of the summer mountain pasture farms in southern Norway. Another is the Storehouse from Rolstad, from the 14th century, which was actually used as a sleeping area.

Summer cabin from Støylsemne

Storehouse from Rolstad

But, in my opinion, the most beautiful structures are the Stave Church from Gol and the Storehouse from Berdal.

Stave Church from Gol and Storehouse from Berdal

First, I photographed the Storehouse from Berdal, where the king displayed items from the royal collection.

Storehouse from Berdal

Then, of course, I took some time to walk around the church and also peeped inside.

Stave Church from Gol

As I’ve mentioned earlier, this wooden church was built around 1200 in the town of Gol, which is located about 220 km northwest of Oslo. Approximately 150 years ago, it was relocated to its current location.

Stave Church from Gol

The portal on the west side (the main entrance to the church) is original, while the southern portal (the lateral side of the church) is a replica from 1884.

Stave Church from Gol, south portal

I only peeked into the church. Why? I’m not sure. Perhaps I was so enchanted that I thought I might "dirty" it by entering. It’s also possible that entry wasn’t physically possible and it was only open for viewing from the entrance. Honestly, I don’t remember.

Stave Church from Gol, the interior

It is presumed that during the time when the church was Catholic, it was decorated with images of saints. However, after the Reformation in 1537 and the transition to Protestantism, the details from the Catholic period were gradually removed and replaced. Nonetheless, the paintings preserved in the altar area, created in 1652, have survived. The church had insufficient lighting, so the photograph is blurry, but the figures can still be discerned.

Stave Church from Gol, the interior

Stave Church from Gol

The King Oscar II’s Collection also includes the Farmhouse from Hove, built in 1738, which is seen on the left in the following photograph. It was used for guests, making it larger and more luxurious than the other buildings on the farm.

King Oscar II’s Collection

Now I was ready to continue exploring the other historic buildings from rural Norway that can be seen at the Norwegian Museum of Cultural History.

Sicily 2012, part 4 (Cefalù)

Verica Ristic — Sun, 03 May 2026 07:00:00 GMT

Besides going on various excursions and tours around this large Italian island during my vacation in Sicily in 2012, I also went almost every day to the centre of Cefalù, which was about a half-hour walk from the hotel. Along the coast there is a lovely promenade, so I didn’t find the walk difficult at all. On the other hand, I also went into town by bus a couple of times and on one occasion I found myself next to the city cemetery. The cemetery didn’t interest me at all and actually I don’t remember why I even went there, but in any case, from the area there is a very good view of the massive rock that rises above the town and has the fitting name La Rocca, which means “The Rock.” At the top there are interesting archaeological remains, so I promised myself that one day I would go there as well.

Cefalù

After getting off the bus near the cemetery and continuing towards the town centre, I passed by beautiful oleanders and large cacti, and I also came across an almond tree with a split fruit, which I found interesting as well.

Cefalù

Cefalù belongs to a group of smaller Italian settlements known collectively as “The Most Beautiful Villages of Italy” and the town centre is truly beautiful. Walking along one of the main streets, I saw some of the smaller churches, as well as numerous cafés, restaurants and souvenir shops, as befits a popular tourist destination.

Cefalù

But the side streets, where there is a greater sense of calm, also have their own charm.

Cefalù

As for religious buildings, the most significant is certainly the cathedral in Cefalù. Not only because it is the largest and spiritually most important, but also because it is part of a group of sites inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List under the name Arab-Norman Palermo and the Cathedral Churches of Cefalù and Monreale.

Cefalù

The cathedral in Cefalù was built in the 12th century by order of the Norman king who ruled Sicily at the time. Like the other structures that belong to the aforementioned group of sites, the cathedral in Cefalù combines Norman, Arab and Byzantine styles, reflecting the rich cultural history of Sicily. Viewed from the outside, two massive towers with a square plan stand out in particular.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù

Between the towers is a three-part portico with arches, added in the 15th century, which shows Gothic influences. The main portal is richly decorated with stone ornaments and reliefs, and above it there is a large window that illuminates the interior of the church. The façade is simple but monumental, built of yellow stone that changes shade in the sunlight.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù, a detail

It is a three-aisled church whose central nave is separated from the side aisles by rows of massive columns with richly decorated capitals.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù, a detail

The most significant part of the interior is the apse with the magnificent Byzantine mosaic of Christ Pantocrator, created in the 12th century.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù, a detail

But there are also many other very beautiful and picturesque details to be seen there.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù, a detail

From the terrace in front of the cathedral entrance, you can get a good view of the square, as well as the neighbouring bishop’s palace, which was built between the 16th and 18th centuries and serves as the administrative centre of the diocese.

Cathedral Church of Cefalù, a detail

Cefalù

Just a couple of hundred meters from the square in front of the cathedral, on the northern edge of the town, you also reach the Postern Gate and the megalithic walls.

Cefalù

Namely, the megalithic walls date back to ancient times and were built from huge stone blocks precisely fitted together without the use of mortar. They are believed to originate from the period of Greek colonisation of Sicily and were later used by the Romans as well. The so-called “postern gate” refers to a small, often hidden secondary gate within the city walls that served as a side exit from the town, often for military or strategic purposes. These ramparts testify to Cefalù’s important defensive position throughout history.

The entire northern edge of the town consists of rocks and I enjoyed walking there in several places and taking photos of what it all looks like.

Cefalù

But, once you leave the rocky northern coast, you first walk through the town’s streets and soon you can reach the popular city beach – Spiaggia del Porto Vecchio. It is located right next to the old town centre and is made of fine sand. Since it is sheltered by a pier, the water there is usually calmer and warmer than in some other areas.

Cefalù

That very pier is also a nice spot worth walking along (it is about a hundred metres long), as it offers an excellent view of the town and some of its details.

Cefalù

But in Cefalù, you can also see other interesting places, along with the always charming and picturesque streets.

Cefalù

One such place is the Medieval Washhouse.

Cefalù

It is a medieval public washhouse from the 16th century, built on the foundations of older structures. It is reached by stairs that lead down to a series of stone basins through which a natural water spring flows. The water comes from an underground stream of the Cefalino River, which supplied the town for centuries.

Cefalù

The site once served the townspeople for washing clothes and was an important part of daily life. Today, it is an interesting historical attraction and testifies to the town’s former urban organisation.

Cefalù

On the other hand, even if a visitor doesn’t tour any specific sites and just strolls through the streets, day or night, the experience is still very enjoyable and fulfilling.

Cefalù

However, even if one were to spend the entire time on the beach, if that is what one craves, it is perfectly fine as well.

Cefalù

Still, the view of the town and the rocky hill above it always reminded me that I had promised myself I would climb to the top and see what there is to explore.

Cefalù

That’s exactly what I did one day, so right after breakfast, before it got too hot, I took a bus to the base from where the hiking trail begins.

Cefalù

It’s already worth stopping along the way to look around, as the view is very beautiful and picturesque.

Cefalù

But, let’s be honest, I was taking these breaks to catch my breath. After all, it was July and the temperature was already high even in the morning.

At some point, through a stone gate, you enter an area with the remains of various structures.

Cefalù

I decided to go first to the top and then, on the way back, explore the interesting sights that can be seen here, although I certainly took photos of various things I came across along the way.

Cefalù

On the hill La Rocca above Cefalù, you can see a variety of archaeological remains that testify to the multi-layered history of the entire area.

Cefalù

At the very top there are remains of a medieval citadel known as Cefalù Castle. The castle was built in the 12th–13th centuries, likely during Norman rule, as a strategic fortification that controlled the coast and protected the town from attacks by sea. Today, parts of the ramparts, walls and towers have been preserved, following the natural contours of the rock and attesting to its defensive function.

Cefalù

Here I came across a couple of other visitors, so I took the opportunity to ask them to take my picture.

In Cefalù

And then I continued walking a bit more around the very top.

Cefalù

Although the remains of this castle are modest, its position at nearly 270 m above sea level offers a spectacular view of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the surrounding area, clearly showing why this location was extremely important throughout history.

Cefalù

When I started to make my way down slowly, I first went to the megalithic complex known as the Diana Temple.

Cefalù

The structure actually dates back to the early 1st millennium BCE, while some elements may be even older, making it one of the oldest preserved structures at this site. The walls are built from large, irregular stone blocks arranged using dry-stone techniques, without the application of mortar.

One of the most striking features is the stone gateways made of large blocks, with the lintel formed from a single massive horizontally placed stone resting on upright side blocks (jambs).

Cefalù

By the way, the name “Diana Temple” comes from a later tradition and there is no solid evidence that the structure was dedicated to the Roman goddess Diana. Over the centuries, the building underwent modifications, especially during the Greek and medieval periods, but the core megalithic structure has been preserved.

Cefalù

After visiting this structure, I went to a terrace that offered another beautiful view. On this occasion, the main focus for me was on the rooftops of the houses in Cefalù.

Cefalù

I continued walking on the hill La Rocca, but by now with the clear intention of descending back to the town.

Cefalù

However, from the trail I spotted the small Church of St. Anna, so I climbed up to it for a short while.

Cefalù

The church probably dates back to the 13th century and was part of a larger fortified and inhabited area at the top of the rock. It is a simple, single-nave building of modest dimensions. Its presence near the megalithic complex and the medieval castle attests to the continuity of the use of this space through different historical periods.

Right next to the church are the remains of a multi-room structure, though I don’t know what it once contained. Still, I found it interesting and took a few more photos.

Cefalù

And now it was finally time to descend to the base.

Cefalù

I was extremely pleased with this personal achievement and the fact that I wasn’t too lazy, as I had made it to the hill La Rocca and climbed to its top. Admittedly, the rest of the vacation was fairly ordinary and monotonous – lounging on the beach, with only occasional trips or walks to the centre of Cefalù.

Still, even though this was, in a sense, a very limited and modest exploration of such a large island as Sicily (which covers an area of 27,708 sq. km), I was very pleased in the end. I also left with a desire and inspiration to return here, though certainly not in the height of summer when it’s too hot to explore comfortably and leisurely.

For now, here is a map showing all the places and sites I visited during this trip:

And instead of a conclusion, here’s one more sweet recipe. It’s not an Italian specialty, but in my version it definitely has a connection to Italy. The recipe is for meringue rolls, which I already mentioned when I wrote about Palermo. There, I bought metal moulds for making Sicilian cannoli, but they are also perfect for shaping meringue rolls. To recap, meringue rolls were once extremely popular and an essential type of pastry offered in all confectioneries in the former Yugoslavia. Times have changed, tastes perhaps too, and certainly fashions. And yet, I still love these sweets and make them occasionally.

The metal moulds I bought in Palermo are just one connection to Italy. Another is that it’s best to make Italian meringue (there is also French and Swiss). So, to get to the point; here is a picture, and the recipe follows.

Meringue rolls served on a dish I have made myself

MERINGUE ROLLS

250 g of ready-made puff pastry (half a frozen package)
2 egg whites
120 g sugar
40 ml water
a pinch of salt
a few drops of lemon juice

Roll out thinly the puff pastry into a rectangle and cut it into 10 strips. Spiral each strip around a metal cannoli mould. Brush them with beaten egg yolk mixed with 1 teaspoon of cold water. Bake at 200°C for about 15 minutes. Carefully remove the moulds and let the rolls cool.

Prepare the meringue using the Italian method. First, combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat until the syrup reaches the “soft ball” stage (a drop of syrup dropped into cold water should form a soft, pliable ball).

While the syrup is heating, add a pinch of salt and a few drops of lemon juice to the egg whites and beat with a mixer until frothy and starting to form soft peaks. By this time, the syrup should be ready.

Slowly pour the syrup in a thin stream into the egg whites while continuing to beat with the mixer. Beat for 5–7 minutes until the mixture is completely cooled, glossy, thick and forms stiff peaks. Use this to fill the puff pastry rolls and dust with icing sugar.

Sicily 2012, part 3 (Palermo)

Verica Ristic — Sun, 03 May 2026 06:00:00 GMT

While touring Palermo with a woman I had been on vacation with in Sicily in 2012, we also reached the coast, but we didn’t stay there long and instead headed back into the city.

Palermo, a detail

That’s how we also came to the Church of San Giorgio dei Genovesi. It is a Renaissance church from the 16th century, built by the community of Genoese merchants as a symbol of their power and influence. The church has a simple façade and an octagonal dome. The interior is richly decorated, but the church was closed when I passed by, so I only photographed it from the outside.

Palermo, a detail

We then continued on to the Politeama Garibaldi Theatre, which was built in the neoclassical style at the end of the 19th century and is recognisable for its monumental triumphal arch facing the spacious square in front of the theatre. At the top of the triumphal arch is Apollo in a quadriga, symbolising the triumph of art and cultural elevation. Apollo, the god of art and light, emphasises the cultural function of the theatre, while the quadriga represents strength, dynamism and the victory of artistic creation.

Palermo, a detail

In front of the theatre is Piazza Ruggero Settimo, which continues into another square. This is Piazza Castelnuovo, where, among other things, there is also a pretty music pavilion.

Palermo, a detail

From here we slowly started heading back towards the historic centre of Palermo, but I also took a photo of a wide avenue lined with tall trees, just to show that not only palm trees grow here.

Palermo, a detail

Soon we came to the Teatro Massimo in Palermo, which was built in the neoclassical style, with construction beginning in 1875.

Palermo, a detail

While the Politeama Garibaldi Theatre was, from its very conception and name, intended for various types of art (“politeama” meaning “theatre for many arts”), the Teatro Massimo, or Great Theatre, is the largest opera house in Italy and the third largest in all of Europe, after the Opéra Garnier in Paris and the Vienna State Opera. That said, in addition to opera, ballets, concerts and other musical events are also held here, as the theatre is known for its exceptional acoustics. The theatre opened in 1897 and although it was closed for as long as 23 years during the 20th century due to major restorations and technical issues, it reopened to the public in 1997.

Interestingly, the Teatro Massimo in Palermo gained “worldwide fame” thanks to its appearance in the film “The Godfather Part III.” One famous scene from the film was shot on the steps of this building.

Palermo, a detail

At the time of my visit, there were no dramatic events, real or fictional, so I simply strolled casually around the theatre building and photographed some beautiful details.

Palermo, a detail

Continuing our walk towards the historic centre, we once again came across a market, so we passed through it. As before, the scenes there were picturesque and interesting.

Palermo, a detail

Along the way, not far off, we also saw the Palermo Cathedral, which was our next destination.

Palermo, a detail

That’s how we arrived at the cathedral, but from the back, where we passed along a street above which there are two arches. These are essentially pedestrian bridges connecting the cathedral and the Archbishop’s Palace. Of course, these passages were not meant for tourists; they served as private routes between the cathedral and the archbishop’s residence, allowing church dignitaries to move from one building to the other without stepping onto the street.

Palermo, a detail

When one continues further along this street, the frontal entrance of the cathedral can be seen, though it was not in use when I was there.

Palermo, a detail

But once you enter the cathedral courtyard, the extremely impressive main entrance becomes visible.

Palermo, a detail

The Palermo Cathedral is part of the group of sites known as Arab-Norman Palermo and the Cathedral Churches of Cefalù and Monreale. In Palermo itself, this designation includes, besides the cathedral, two palaces, three churches and one bridge. In 2012, I wasn’t particularly focused on seeking out UNESCO World Heritage sites, so I didn’t make an effort to visit all of these buildings. Hmm?! Perhaps I should return to Palermo?

Until I decide whether I’ll go back to Sicily, it’s worth noting that these sites date from the period of the Norman Kingdom of Sicily (1130–1194), of which Palermo was the capital. Although the Kingdom of Sicily lasted until 1816, the Norman period ended in 1194 with a change of dynasty.

Before that, the Arabs ruled Sicily until 1091, when the island was taken over by the Normans, though at that time only as a county. The territory was officially declared a kingdom in 1130.

On the other hand, the Byzantines had “inherited” territories in southern Italy from the Romans and remained there until 1071, when the Normans finally conquered Bari (in Apulia, on the Adriatic coast).

The World Heritage designation applies only to buildings constructed during a specific period in the 12th century and these sites represent an outstanding example of socio-cultural syncretism between Western, Islamic and Byzantine cultures, as the influences of local peoples and religions remained strong even after the Norman conquest described above.

But, let me return the story of the Palermo Cathedral that is dedicated to the Dormition of Virgin Mary. The cathedral was built in 1185 on the site of an earlier church and a former mosque. Over the following centuries, the cathedral was repeatedly renovated and expanded, so today its architecture reflects a blend of different styles, yet the building is undeniably magnificent. On the southern side, there is a portico designed in the Gothic-Catalan style, while during the 18th century, the interior was redesigned according to neoclassical principles.

Palermo, a detail

Although the interior houses a crypt with numerous sarcophagi, as well as the tombs of the Norman kings, and the Chapel of St. Rosalia, Palermo’s patron saint, where her relics are kept, I somehow focused on the meridian line I noticed on the cathedral floor.

Palermo, a detail

The line was installed in 1801 and at noon a beam of sunlight enters through a small opening in the upper part of the cathedral, falling precisely on the line on the floor. The spot where the light falls changes throughout the year, following the Sun’s apparent movement.

Along the line, the signs of the Zodiac are marked, because during the year the Sun “passes through” those constellations. When the sunlight touches a particular sign, it indicates the period of the year in which the Sun is in that zodiacal constellation. In this way, it was possible to determine the time of year very precisely.

After visiting the cathedral, we stepped out onto the square in front, where I photographed both the square and the cathedral itself.

Palermo, a detail

Afterwards, we took a slightly longer walk, but without visiting any notable buildings. At the end of the street we had started on, the New Gate, or Porta Nuova, came into view. This is a monumental city gate originally built in the 15th century, though it acquired its current appearance at the end of the 16th century.

Palermo, a detail

We then walked through a city park and from there I photographed, from a distance, parts of the Royal Palace, or Norman Palace, which was originally built in the 9th century as an Arab fortress, but in the 12th century the Norman rulers transformed it into a lavish royal palace. It is also the oldest royal residence in Europe.

Palermo, a detail

Within the palace is the famous Palatine Chapel (Cappella Palatina), built in 1140. By the way, both the palace and the chapel are part of the group of cultural sites inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. The chapel itself is a masterpiece of Arab-Norman art, featuring golden Byzantine mosaics, Islamic wooden ceilings and a Western basilica layout. I did not see it in 2012 and the more I think about it, the more I feel I really should return to Sicily.

Palermo, a detail

Continuing our walk through Palermo, we passed by a building housing a gallery. I was drawn to its architecture and the attractive appearance of the inner courtyard, but even when the façades are not fully restored, very beautiful details can still be seen, clearly showing the richness of Palermo’s history and its wealthy inhabitants.

Palermo, a detail

Palermo continues to be a very beautiful city today and I don’t mean only the “polished” and well-maintained buildings that once belonged to the wealthy. Ordinary streets and buildings have their own appeal, which isn’t necessarily tied to formal beauty. After all, a city isn’t made up only of grand, richly decorated buildings, that would make it a cold museum, but also of its people, with all their habits, customs, histories and the reasons behind their particular way of life.

Palermo, a detail

We then arrived at the Baroque Church of Jesus, built at the end of the 16th century for the Jesuit order. At that time, the Jesuits were a very powerful and influential order, but in 1773 they fell out of favour and the order was suppressed, only to be restored in 1814.

Palermo, a detail

As one continues further, the side of the church and its dome come into view, while adjoining it is the Jesuit College Library.

Palermo, a detail

The Jesuit order was considered one of the most educated within the Catholic Church and they placed great importance on education. Their students were often top-level intellectuals on a European scale. However, the Jesuits did not limit themselves to Europe; they also established schools and missions in the Americas, Asia and Africa.

Palermo, a detail

Just a few minutes’ walk further, we reached another building that is part of the Arab-Norman Palermo group of cultural sites: the Church of Saint Cataldo. By the way, Saint Cataldo was an Irish Christian priest and missionary from the 7th century who worked in Italy.

Palermo, a detail

The Church of Saint Cataldo was built in the mid-12th century and is an outstanding example of Arab-Norman architecture, combining a Western basilica structure with characteristic Islamic red domes and decorative motifs.

Palermo, a detail

The interior is relatively simple, but some of the original elements can still be seen. Even so, this is yet another reason to return to Palermo, as is a visit to the neighbouring church, which is also on the World Heritage List and was undergoing restoration in 2012 during my visit. In the next photograph, it can be seen on the right-hand side.

Palermo, a detail

This is the Church of St. Mary of the Admiral, the construction of which began in 1143. Its name comes from the fact that it was built for an admiral who was an important political and military advisor in the kingdom. The church is renowned for its rich Byzantine mosaics, especially in the apse, but it also contains numerous Western and Islamic elements, which is typical of the Arab-Norman style in Palermo.

In the previous photograph, on the left-hand side, it is also possible to see the Bellini Theatre. The origins of this theatre date back to the 17th century, but it was reconstructed and modernised in the 19th century.

Palermo, a detail

Opposite the Church of St. Mary of the Admiral is the Church and Monastery of Saint Catherine of Alexandria. The church was built in the 16th century, while the monastery belongs to the nuns of Saint Catherine, a female monastic order within the Catholic Church dedicated to Saint Catherine of Alexandria. Over the centuries, the nuns have been known for educating young women, leading a spiritual life and preserving cultural heritage.

Palermo, a detail

To the left of this church, there is a street leading to the spacious Piazza Pretoria, where the eponymous fountain, the Praetorian Fountain, is located.

Palermo, a detail

The Praetorian Fountain was created in the mid-16th century, but – in Florence! However, the owner fell into debt and sold the fountain to the city of Palermo and thus it was delivered here in 1574. Some parts were damaged or even missing, so the fountain had to be restored. In any case, the lavish sculptures adorning the fountain depict mythological figures, gods, heroes and animal motifs.

Palermo, a detail

However, the problems with missing or damaged parts were not the only issue and the story didn’t end there. The installation of this fountain caused a major scandal because all the figures, gods, nymphs, heroes and allegories, were depicted completely nude. In the 16th century, Palermo was a deeply religious and conservative city, so the public considered that such explicit sculptures placed in the middle of a commercial and administrative district undermined the morality and virtue of its citizens. For this reason, the locals nicknamed it the “Fountain of Shame.” The Renaissance Tuscan ideals were clearly only beginning to spread to southern Italy.

Palermo, a detail

From here, we headed roughly in the direction of the train station, but along the way I continued photographing some interesting and picturesque parts of Palermo.

Palermo, a detail

Before returning to Cefalù, my travel companion and I went for lunch.

Lunch in Palermo

As I’ve mentioned several times before when it comes to food in Italy, I often like to eat pizza there because I can’t make it well at home. On the other hand, I can quite nicely make one of the famous Sicilian specialties: arancini. These are fried rice balls filled with various fillings, such as meat and peas, cheese and ham, and so on.

Arancini served in a dish I have made myself

ARANCINI

15 g butter
1 clove of garlic
half a small onion
150 g medium-grain rice
60 ml white wine
260 ml chicken stock
100 ml milk
a pinch of salt
half of 1 egg (you first beat it a little and then use half)
50 g grated Mozzarella cheese
40 g grated hard cheese that melts well
a little chopped parsley or other fragrant herbs (basil, oregano, thyme, etc.)
flour for breading
salt and pepper to taste
1 egg
breadcrumbs for breading

In a pot with a good lid, melt the butter and lightly sauté the garlic and onion. Add the rice and fry everything together over medium heat for a minute or two. Pour in the white wine. When the wine evaporates, add the chicken stock, milk and a little salt (not too much, since the stock is already salty). Stir well. Once it starts to cook, reduce the heat to the lowest setting, cover and let the rice cook very gently.

When the rice has cooled, add half of the beaten egg, the cheeses and the fragrant herbs. Mix everything well and let it rest; it can even sit overnight, then form it into balls.

First, roll the balls in flour seasoned with salt and pepper, then dip them in the beaten egg and finally coat them in breadcrumbs. Fry them in medium-deep oil, turning them frequently so they achieve a nice dark-golden colour on all sides. Remove from the oil and place first on a paper towel to drain any excess oil.

Sicily 2012, part 2 (Mount Etna, Palermo)

Verica Ristic — Sun, 03 May 2026 05:00:00 GMT

Mount Etna is an active volcano on the eastern coast of Sicily and one of Italy’s most famous natural attractions. Its height varies due to frequent eruptions, but it currently reaches about 3,329 m, making it the largest volcano in Europe and also the highest mountain on a Mediterranean island. Etna is constantly active and its eruptions have been recorded since the 8th century BCE, which makes it one of the longest observed volcanoes in the world, as well as the most active stratovolcano on Earth. The area around the volcano is rich in fertile soil thanks to volcanic ash, which provides ideal conditions for vineyards, orchards and olive groves.

Since 2013, the mountain has been part of the UNESCO World Heritage List due to its geological and ecological significance. The area of this natural site inscribed on the World Heritage List covers nearly 20,000 uninhabited hectares in the highest part of Mount Etna.

Although it often happens that the airport in the nearby city of Catania is closed due to volcanic eruptions, when the mountain is calm, visitors can explore some of the craters, go along hiking trails, and use cable cars, while in winter Etna also becomes a popular ski resort.

That is how, during my stay in Sicily in the summer of 2012, as part of a one-day excursion, after visiting the village of Savoca and the town of Taormina, about which I wrote in the previous instalment of these stories, I also reached Etna. The plan was to come by coach to a large parking area and then during free time, members of the group could walk around the surroundings, including visiting some of the smaller side craters, which were quite calm at the time and allowed for such a visit.

Even before going to Sicily, I knew about this excursion, as well as the option to go further up the mountain for an additional fee. Namely, that parking area is located at nearly 2,000 m above sea level, but with a special ticket and a licensed guide, it is possible to reach an altitude of about 3,000 m. I even brought, specifically for that occasion, in the middle of summer, a fleece jacket and a lightweight wind jacket from home. An altitude of 3,000 m is always a serious matter, regardless of whether it is in the middle of the Mediterranean or anywhere else.

Still, let me first include here a geographical map showing all the places I visited during this holiday in Sicily.

As for Etna, upon arriving at the parking area, I quickly headed towards the cable car. It turned out that I was the only one in the group who wanted to go further up the mountain, so the guide helped me buy that special ticket and I soon boarded a cable car cabin that carried me upward.

Mount Etna, a detail

From the cabin, I could see one of those side craters that can be easily reached from the parking area.

Mount Etna, a detail

As I’ve said, it snows here in winter, so you can also see the chairs that are part of the ski lift, as well as the dirt road leading to the higher parts of the mountain.

Mount Etna, a detail

Although much of the landscape appears very inhospitable and almost barren, here and there you can still see plants slowly beginning to take over the slopes of Etna.

Mount Etna, a detail

Etna is also significant because it hosts important ecosystems, including endemic flora and fauna, making it, like a natural laboratory, an interesting place for researchers studying ecological and biological processes.

Mount Etna, a detail

At the top of the cable car, at an altitude of about 2,500 m above sea level, there is even a bar where you can stop for food and drinks, but I had neither the time nor the interest for that.

Mount Etna, a detail

From there, minibuses also depart, taking visitors, and likely researchers as well, to other parts of the mountain.

Mount Etna, a detail

Although it was already starting to get cold, I first took a photo in the thin blouse I had put on over the sleeveless top I wore while walking around Taormina, but I was already seriously thinking about taking warm clothes out of my backpack.

Mount Etna, a detail

Behind me, in the previous photograph, you can see the peaks of Etna, but before continuing the excursion, I took pictures of the cable car, the smaller side craters, as well as the parking area and its surroundings.

Mount Etna, a detail

Nearby, I also saw charming flowers that somehow managed to grow on what seemed like barren ground.

Mount Etna, a detail

Soon, we set off in a minibus that followed the dirt road.

Mount Etna, a detail

At one point, we stopped and got out of the minibus to go for a walk of about 40 minutes. The place where the minibus drove to is called the Philosopher’s Tower (Torre del Filosofo), and it is located at 2,920 m above sea level on the southern side of the volcano, near the summit with the craters. The name comes from the legend that the Greek philosopher Empedocles (circa 490–430 BCE) from Agrigento used to come here to study eruptions and the nature of the volcano, and there is even a story that he ended his life here by throwing himself into a crater.

From this spot, there is an impressive view of several active craters at Etna’s summit, which I was able to see and photograph much more clearly.

Mount Etna, a detail

The wind was blowing quite strongly and I was delighted that I had brought my jackets. However, there was a couple in the group with a little girl and they were all dressed more or less as if they had come from the beach. I wasn’t worried about the parents at all, since they were adults, but even though I would have really enjoyed wearing the fleece jacket myself, I couldn’t have calmly left the little girl to freeze, so I gave her the fleece jacket and I used only the wind jacket during the walk. Still, it was a good windcheater and it really kept the cold wind from reaching my body, although the temperature was certainly low. You could also see this from the patches of snow that had remained in one spot from the previous season.

Mount Etna, a detail

But it wasn’t cold everywhere. There were some spots where steam was rising strongly from the ground.

Mount Etna, a detail

Still, in several places those remnants of snow could be seen, even though just a few dozen metres away steam was rising from the ground, which is by definition at least warm, if not hot.

Mount Etna, a detail

Although the entire group walked together, with the guide’s permission I occasionally went a few dozen metres ahead to take photos and in this way I captured the group at a pass, which gives a good sense of the scale of the area we were passing through.

Mount Etna, a detail

On the other hand, the path climbed uphill, so in the next photo you can also see the previously photographed trail with the railing, but from a higher vantage point.

Mount Etna, a detail

Impressive details could be seen on the other side, as well, such as the crater peaks and the steam rising, but it should be noted that I occasionally used zoom while taking the photos.

Mount Etna, a detail

The multicoloured rocks, sand and cooled lava were especially impressive in one area, which I photographed several times.

Mount Etna, a detail

At one point, the guide drew our attention to a small hole. Even though there was no visible steam, when you brought your hand close, you could clearly feel the heat, which was obviously coming from deep within the earth.

Mount Etna, a detail

The rest of the walk was equally interesting, though without any particularly notable additional information. The landscapes were both simple and impressive.

Mount Etna, a detail

I was extremely pleased with taking this excursion, so before we began descending by minibus back to the cable car, I had my photo taken with the peaks of Etna in the background.

On Mount Etna

On the way back, everything went just like on the way up, only in reverse: a minibus ride, followed by the descent in the cable car.

Mount Etna, a detail

At the parking area, I rejoined the original group of tourists from Serbia and then the coach went to drop us off at different hotels, so I returned to Cefalù.

In the following days, the holiday continued at its own pace and I occasionally took photos from the hotel terrace of the centre of Cefalù, with the rocky and picturesque hill rising above the town.

Cefalù

Then, one day, that woman I was on holiday with and I took the train to Palermo, which was a kind of private excursion for us. We began by stepping out onto the square in front of the central train station building.

Palermo, a detail

Palermo is the capital of Sicily and it is a vibrant city with a very rich history. It was founded by the Phoenicians in the 8th century BCE and over the centuries it was ruled by Romans, Arabs, Normans and Spaniards, leaving a strong mark on its architecture and culture. The city is particularly known for its unique Arab-Norman style, which is why it has been inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List as a group property, together with the cathedrals in Cefalù and Monreale. Although it has faced periods of political and social challenges throughout history, today Palermo is a dynamic city that combines history, art and modern life. Thanks to its diverse heritage and warm climate, it is one of the most fascinating destinations in Sicily.

We began by walking along the city’s larger streets.

Palermo, a detail

But very quickly, we turned into some side streets and arrived at the famous Ballarò Market (Mercato di Ballarò).

Palermo, a detail

The Ballarò Market is the oldest and most picturesque market in Palermo, located in the historic Albergheria district. Its roots go back to the Arab period when the city was under the rule of the Emirate of Sicily, while today fresh fish, seafood, fruits, vegetables, spices, and traditional Sicilian products are displayed daily. The vendors are known for loudly calling out to customers, creating an authentic and energetic atmosphere typical of southern Italy. However, the woman I was travelling with wasn’t adventurous enough and didn’t want to “venture further,” as she found it all a bit intimidating, so we only explored the edges of the market. For me, though, it was unforgettable because it was there that I bought moulds for making the famous Sicilian cannoli. Upon returning, I realised that these short metal tubes are also perfect for cream rolls that used to be very popular in pastry shops, but are nowadays rarely made, except, perhaps, by me.

So now is the perfect opportunity to start sharing the recipes for my versions of these sweets. One will be in this instalment, while the other a little later.

Sicilian cannoli served on a dish I have made myself

SICILIAN CANNOLI

150 g flour
25 g sugar
1 teaspoon cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
20 g lard
1 egg yolk
a little grated lemon zest
1 teaspoon brandy (or vinegar)
50 ml sweet wine (originally Marsala is used)
1 teaspoon instant coffee powder
1 egg white
300 g ricotta cheese
100 g icing sugar
1/2 teaspoon orange blossom water
40 g candied fruit of your choice
50 g chopped dark chocolate

Mix the dry ingredients for the cannoli dough. The lard should be at room temperature so it’s soft and then combine it with the dry ingredients, adding the egg yolk and grated lemon zest. Knead together with the brandy and wine in which the instant coffee has been dissolved, adding gradually to control the dough’s softness. The final dough should be smooth and elastic. Wrap it in plastic wrap and let it rest in the refrigerator for about an hour.

Roll the dough out with a rolling pin to about 2–3 mm thick, then cut out round shapes (about 10 cm in diameter). Each piece of dough should be gently stretched with your fingers to form an oval shape. Grease the metal cannoli tubes with lard, then wrap the dough around them so it overlaps. Brush the overlapping dough with egg white and gently press to prevent it from separating during frying.

Fry the cannoli in hot oil for a few minutes, taking care not to burn them. Remove from the oil and place on paper towels to drain. After 1–2 minutes, carefully remove the metal tubes and let the fried shells cool completely.

If the ricotta is very wet, place it in cheesecloth over a strainer and leave it overnight. Put the ricotta in a food processor, add icing sugar and blend until smooth and creamy. Add the orange blossom water and mix well. Candied fruit and chopped chocolate can be added to the cheese, but this is optional; they can also be used to decorate the outside of the cannoli. In any case, fill the cannoli shells with the cheese mixture before serving and dust with icing sugar.

As for my walk through Palermo, I first passed by the Church of Sant’Antonio Abate, which was first mentioned in 1220, but over the centuries it underwent numerous restorations and reconstructions. The last major repairs were carried out after a strong earthquake in 1823.

Palermo, a detail

Walking further, I peeked into the side streets and admired the impressive buildings along the main streets.

Palermo, a detail

And so we arrived at the Church of San Domenico, an important Baroque church. It was built in the 13th century and has been restored multiple times over the years, giving its architecture a layered and richly detailed appearance. Inside, apparently, one can see lavish altars, frescoes and sculptures, but I did not go in.

Palermo, a detail

I found it much more interesting to climb onto the rooftop terrace of the shopping centre located right next to Piazza San Domenico, from where there is a panoramic view of the church, the square and the surrounding city rooftops.

Palermo, a detail

From there, you could also see the tall monument dedicated to the Immaculate Conception (Colonna dell’Immacolata). Erected in the 18th century, it is an important symbol of devotion in Palermo. The monument is topped with a statue of the Virgin Mary, while the lower figures and decorations are intricately carved.

Palermo, a detail

Then we backtracked a little to visit one of the most famous historic markets in Palermo –Vucciria, located near the port and the Kalsa district.

Palermo, a detail

It was once the city’s main market for meat and fish, but even today, besides various products that may be more interesting to tourists than to locals, there is still a very good selection of meat and fish. I was much more drawn to the section where the fish were sold.

Palermo, a detail

But, in this part of the city, there are also very interesting and picturesque details. Some are not broadly known or are less known, like those in the next few photographs.

Palermo, a detail

On the other hand, there are also some fairly well-known details, each of which has, in its own way, become a symbol of the city or at least a place popular among visitors interested in sightseeing.

One such place is the Genius of Garraffo or Palermo the Great. It is one of the most famous representations of Palermo’s mythical protector – a crowned old man feeding a snake from his chest, a symbol of wisdom and the city’s eternal renewal.

Palermo, a detail

There is also the Garraffello Fountain, which dates back to the 16th century. Its name comes from the Arabic word gharraf, meaning “abundance of water,” because the fountain was once an important source of drinking water for residents and merchants. It is recognisable by its stone basin and simple yet elegant Renaissance design. Over the centuries, it has been moved and restored several times, especially after damage during World War II. Today, it stands as a historical symbol of Palermo’s once lively commercial centre and a testament to its layered past.

Palermo, a detail

The walk through Palermo’s historic centre was truly picturesque, while after a brief exploration of the area around the Vucciria Market, we headed towards the waterfront...

Sicily 2012, part 1 (Cefalù, Savoca, Taormina)

Verica Ristic — Sun, 03 May 2026 04:00:00 GMT

This is another story about a summer vacation from earlier times. In 2012, I had already long stopped going on a proper European summer holiday, meaning somewhere by the sea in July or August. There’s nothing appealing to me about that. That’s when there are big crowds and intense heat, and I don’t like that combination. Somehow I got used to spending those months best and most comfortably at home in Belgrade.

However, during that period I often spent time with a woman who was somewhat younger than me, but not nearly as independent as I am. From the beginning of that year, she kept mentioning how a friend she used to go on vacation with had gotten married, so now she didn’t have anyone to go with, and she spoke about it with such longing and sadness in her voice that at one point I said I would go with her if that suited her. I think she felt relieved, because she had a typical job, so it was important for her to make good use of her annual leave and for her that meant going to the seaside in July or August – and not alone.

Since I was already making a significant compromise with my own wishes and needs, I told her to handle the organisation and choose the destination, which she did. So in July 2012, we went to Sicily, to a place called Cefalù.

It turned out that she had chosen a hotel at the end of a bay west of the town and that was perfectly fine, although it required quite a descent to reach the beach and then a climb back up later. But that part isn’t really very important for this story.

Cefalù

Cefalù, a detail

What is much more important is that I used that vacation for some quite pleasant trips and visits to certain parts of Sicily. Here is also a map showing all the places I went to during that trip:

Still, to begin with, let me show how from the direction of our hotel there was a wonderful view of Cefalù at any time of day, while I will write about the town itself later on.

Cefalù

I could even zoom in on the town centre with my camera, but I also photographed it while walking towards it along the promenade that follows the coastline.

Cefalù

One of the very popular excursions in Sicily includes a visit to a village called Savoca. The village is located in the north-eastern part of the island, on the slopes of steep hills not far from the coast.

Savoca

Although it is a completely quiet village, it gained worldwide fame as the location where the famous film “The Godfather” was shot, with Savoca portrayed as the home of the Corleone family.

In fact, the Corleone family from the novel and film The Godfather got its name from the real Sicilian town of Corleone (in western Sicily, south of Palermo), known for its historical ties to the mafia and strong family traditions. However, the actual film scenes were not shot there, but right here in the small village of Savoca, which is visually more authentic and picturesque. Key scenes were filmed in Savoca, including the wedding at the Church of St. Nicholas and the conversations at Bar Vitelli.

It was precisely that bar that I photographed upon arriving in Savoca and we later returned there, like true tourists, to have a cup of coffee.

Savoca, a detail

The bar is located at the main square that also has a spacious terrace or platform offering a nice view of the surroundings.

Savoca, a detail

With the other members of the group, including (by chance) a friend of mine from university who was there with her husband, as well as a wonderful woman I had worked with professionally for several years, who was there with her daughter, I set off on a leisurely walk towards the Church of St. Nicholas. Along the way, I also photographed young caper buds, as well as other plants and the surroundings.

Savoca, a detail

The Church of St. Nicholas is the main church in the village of Savoca and an example of typical Sicilian Baroque architecture, with simple yet elegant facades and a bell tower.

Savoca, a detail

Its construction began as early as the 13th century, but over time the church was renovated multiple times, especially at the end of the 15th century and the beginning of the 18th century, hence the Baroque influence. The church is situated in an exposed position above a deep ravine and is notable for its walls with merlons on the parapet, giving it a fortress-like appearance.

Savoca, a detail

The interior is divided into three naves and the church houses numerous valuable liturgical objects, including a statue of Saint Lucy from Syracuse dating back to 1666, which is particularly revered.

Savoca, a detail

Although the top of the hill where the Church of St. Nicholas stands has the remains of an old fortress, I wasn’t interested in going all the way up there. I just climbed a little up the street in order to photograph the church from another angle.

Savoca, a detail

I started heading back towards the coach and along the way I also photographed the Church of St. Michael, considered one of the oldest in Savoca, with the first mentions dating back to the 13th century.

Savoca, a detail

This church has also been renovated multiple times, which can be seen in its appearance. At the time of my visit, the Church of St. Michael was closed, but it was restored and reopened in 2020.

Savoca, a detail

I still had a few photos to take and a coffee to enjoy at Bar Vitelli, and then I could leave the village of Savoca together with the group I had been on this excursion with.

Savoca, a detail

The next destination on this excursion was the town of Taormina, whose historic centre is located in north-eastern Sicily, on a hill above the coast. After getting off the coach, we set out to walk through the town centre, but before that, I photographed the wonderful view from a nearby park.

Taormina, a detail

From here, I could also see Mount Etna, which we visited later.

View at Mount Etna from Taormina

For now, we headed towards the main pedestrian street, Corso Umberto I, which stretches between two city gates, Porta Catania and Porta Messina. Before reaching the area between the gates, I could see from the street the top of the rocky hill above the town where the remains of the Saracen Castle (Castello Saraceno) are located. It is a medieval citadel dating back to the period of Arab and Norman rule in Sicily, roughly between the 9th and 12th centuries. Today, only partial remains of the stone walls and towers are visible.

Taormina, a detail

Nearby was also Porta Catania, but first, let me say a few words about the town itself.

Taormina, a detail

Taormina is a picturesque town on the eastern coast of Sicily, perched on a cliff with spectacular views of the Ionian Sea and Mount Etna. Its history begins in the 4th century BCE, when it was founded by the ancient Greeks. During the Greek period, a thriving trade and cultural community developed, while the first theatre was also built in that period. Later it was transformed into the famous ancient theatre the remains of which can still be seen in the eastern part of the town. Afterwards, the town was ruled by the Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Normans and Spaniards, all of whom left their mark, whether through buildings or influence on culture, agriculture and more.

Like most tourist excursions organised in the summer, this one, despite its advantages, also had its limitations, primarily in terms of the limited time. We were given a couple of hours here, which also included time for lunch. In other words, for me, this meant a relatively superficial visit to the town centre and a walk along the pedestrian street Corso Umberto I starting from Porta Catania, without going to the Ancient Theatre or examining details.

Taormina, a detail

Porta Catania is one of the main gates of the old town of Taormina, located at the western end of the pedestrian street Corso Umberto I. It once served as the entrance to the town for travellers coming from the direction of Catania, hence the name. The gate dates back to the medieval period and is an important historical and architectural feature of Taormina. Today, it is a popular spot for photographs and a starting point for exploring the old part of the town.

Taormina, a detail

Soon I reached Piazza del Duomo, where the cathedral (the word “duomo” in Italian literally means cathedral) is located. It is dedicated to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of travellers and sailors, which was important for a town situated on the coast and along trade routes.

Taormina, a detail

Among other things, the square also features the Fontana di Piazza Duomo, built in 1635 in the Baroque style. It consists of two basins with the carved names of four city officials who commissioned its construction, and it is also adorned with numerous decorative elements.

Taormina, a detail

As for the Cathedral of Saint Nicholas, it was built in the 13th century on the site of an earlier church and over time underwent several reconstructions, especially after earthquakes and other damage. The cathedral’s façade is simple yet elegant, with details characteristic of the medieval Norman style.

Taormina, a detail

The interior contains altars and artworks from various periods, including frescoes and sculptures.

Taormina, a detail

Continuing along the main pedestrian street, I also saw the Ciampoli Palace from the early 15th century, which belonged to a wealthy noble family whose name the building bears. In the 20th century, the palace changed purposes, while at the time of my visit, it housed a nightclub! Fortunately, that was later corrected and today it is used for exhibitions, cultural events and temporary museum displays.

Taormina, a detail

Further leisurely strolling along the pedestrian street was a very pleasant experience, but that’s how it is in Italy.

Taormina, a detail

The distance between Porta Catania and Porta Messina is about 800 m, so it’s still relatively quick to reach the other gate.

Taormina, a detail

Porta Messina, as I have mentioned earlier, was one of the main gates of the town and is located in the northern part of the historic centre, in the direction of the city of Messina. Its current form dates back to 1808 and although it was once part of the defensive walls, today’s structure primarily reflects this 19th-century renovation rather than the medieval fortification elements. I photographed it only from one side because of the position of the sun.

Taormina, a detail

From here, I headed back along the same route I had taken, but this time I paid a little more attention to some of the buildings and interesting sites that I had previously just passed by.

Taormina, a detail

That’s how I came to the Corvaia Palace.

Taormina, a detail

It is one of the most significant medieval buildings in Taormina. The oldest part of the palace, a square tower, dates back to the 10th century and was built during the Arab period, while later sections were added in the 13th and 15th centuries in the Norman and Gothic-Catalan styles, so these different styles are clearly visible. The palace is named after the noble Corvaja/Corvaia family, who owned it in a later period. Today, it houses the Taormina Tourist Information Centre, while the space is also used for exhibitions and cultural events. The palace’s courtyard is exceptionally beautiful.

Taormina, a detail

Right next to the Corvaia Palace is the Church of Saint Catherine of Alexandria.

Taormina, a detail

This is a Baroque church built in the first half of the 17th century on the remains of a Roman odeon, which in turn had been constructed on the foundations of an ancient Greek temple.

Taormina, a detail

The façade is decorated with a portal made of pink Taormina marble featuring a statue of Saint Catherine from 1705, while inside there is also an older marble statue from 1493, originating from an earlier church located outside the city walls.

Taormina, a detail

From this part of the town, where the Church of Saint Catherine of Alexandria and the Corvaia Palace are located, a street name Via Teatro Greco leads southeast and about 400 m further are the remains of the Ancient Theatre.

Taormina, a detail

This theatre is an exceptionally well-preserved example of Greco-Roman architecture. It was built in the 3rd century BCE during the Greek period, while later the Romans expanded it and adapted it for gladiatorial combat. It is especially important because of its spectacular location: from the stage, there is a view of Mount Etna and the Ionian Sea, making it one of the most beautifully situated ancient theatres in the world. However, as I’ve mentioned before, I did not go to visit this theatre because I felt I didn’t have enough time.

With that limitation in mind, I preferred to stroll leisurely through the picturesque centre of Taormina.

Taormina, a detail

Among other things, Sicily is famous for candied fruit and marzipan “fruit,” and alongside fresh fruit, spices and various other small items, these can be seen in numerous shops primarily aimed at tourists.

Taormina, a detail

If a visitor looks more closely, they can also see numerous picturesque details and decorations on and around the buildings.

Taormina, a detail

And there is also Vicolo Stretto, a narrow alley considered the tightest in the historic centre. At its narrowest point, it is only about 40–50 cm wide, allowing just one person to pass through at a time. The street, of course, has no historical significance, though it is a typical example of medieval urban structure with very narrow passages between houses and it is certainly interesting for photography.

In Taormina in 2012

Eventually I also arrived at Piazza IX Aprile or the 9th of April Square.

Taormina, a detail

The square got its name from the date, 9 April, 1860, when, during a mass at the cathedral, news spread that Garibaldi had arrived in Sicily, symbolically linking it to Italian unification.

On the square, you can see the Clock Tower, built in the 13th century as part of the city walls, with the clock added later. Along the pedestrian street, there is also the Baroque Church of St. Joseph, with an elegant façade and staircase, constructed at the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th century.

Taormina, a detail

The square also includes the Church of Saint Augustine of Hippo, dating from the 13th century, which today houses the city library.

Taormina, a detail

By now, it was getting quite hot, so my friend and I enjoyed retreating into the shady streets of Taormina, and we also needed to find a place to sit down and have lunch.

Taormina, a detail

When I travel in Italy, I usually like to eat pizza. Besides pizza being an extraordinary phenomenon in life and the universe, the main reason is that I simply cannot make it well at home. The secret isn’t so much in the recipe, the flour or the toppings, but primarily in the oven. I really can’t deal with installing a special pizza oven in my flat just to indulge in this treat a couple of times a year. More than that would certainly be a bad idea, as I would end up weighing over 200 kilos. But when I travel in Italy, since I usually walk a lot, I consider it perfectly fine to enjoy all the delights this dish has to offer.

Taormina, a detail

After a wonderful lunch, on the way back to the coach continuing our excursion, I passed by the small Church of St. Anthony the Great from the 14th century, which over time lost its original function and today is open to visitors as a cultural space.

Taormina, a detail

And now it was time to head to Mount Etna.

Colombia 2024, part 15 (Puerto Nariño, Leticia, Bogota)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 01 May 2026 14:54:00 GMT

The rain that had often fallen during the night continued into the morning, causing the planned outing to be cancelled, although I was personally absolutely drained and had no energy for anything. I managed to drag myself to the dining room for breakfast, but all I could do was to drink some tea and eat a little bread, not because I had stomach issues, but simply because I had no appetite whatsoever. Besides that, I frequently had to rush to the toilet and since I was completely exhausted, I spent most of the morning lying in my room.

The return by speedboat to Leticia was scheduled for 3 PM and I packed my things by putting one item at the time into my backpack each time I returned to bed from the frequent trips to the toilet. I simply didn't have the strength to pack everything at once.

Around 2 PM, we set off by boat (Jessica and a young German woman with whom we occasionally spoke within the accommodation were also returning to Leticia at the same time). I asked the young man in charge of transportation to carry my large backpack to the boat and to take it out when we arrived at the Puerto Nariño dock. While waiting for the speedboat, I sat on some steps because I couldn't stand on my feet.

When the speedboat arrived, I asked the crew to let me board first because I wasn't feeling well, so I just showed them which backpack was mine.

All guides and internet sources advise bringing cash to the Amazon area settlements because using cards can be problematic, as can exchanging money or finding ATMs. This turned out to be a lifesaver for me because I had enough cash to pay for all the services of carrying my backpack. It was the same when I arrived in Leticia, where tuk-tuk drivers were waiting and I could just show them my backpack and drag myself to the given tuk-tuk.

Before that, I said goodbye to Jessica and apologised once again for waking her up, thanking her for her help.

Miraculously, during the journey to Leticia, I didn't need to use the toilet at all and I don't know what would have happened if I had needed to. I guess it's all in the mind and I also took a few activated charcoal capsules. At one point, I even managed to take another photo of the Amazon "as a farewell."

The Amazon

I already had a room reservation in Leticia, so after dropping off my things and resting a bit, I went to find something to eat because I realised I needed to eat and it wasn't normal to spend the whole day with just two cups of tea. However, I still wanted to have some soup and luckily there is plenty of that in Colombia. Fortunately, there was a local restaurant just a few dozen metres from the guesthouse where I was staying.

Restaurant in Leticia

In addition to the soup, I also had some bread with cheese and it was tasty, but I only ate a little because I still didn't have much of an appetite.

Dinner in Leticia

I spent the night relatively peacefully (only had to go to the toilet once), so I woke up with hope and climbed to the top of the guesthouse where I had breakfast. It was nice because from the height, I could overlook Leticia that I would later leave by plane for Bogotá.

Breakfast place in Leticia

Leticia from above

My flight to Bogotá was in the morning and I took a taxi to the airport. I had occasional issues with my stomach, but there were enough toilets at the airport, so I didn't encounter any major problems. Before boarding the plane, I even took a photo of myself and concluded that I looked much, much better than I felt. However, I didn't have any issues during the flight either.

Leaving Leticia and returning to Bogotá

Once in Bogotá, I found there were wildfires burning on the surrounding hills at that time, but I settled into a good hotel in a nice part of the city. Since I wasn't sure how my issues would progress, it was important to me that the hotel had its own restaurant and room service.

Wildfires above Bogotá

Hotel room with a view

I booked the hotel for two nights with the intention of resting well there. It was clear to me that I had picked up some kind of bacteria somewhere, which was causing ongoing stomach issues, although not as intense as the first night. As a result, I felt extremely weak and I also had a persistent dry cough that sometimes intensified, further draining me of strength and energy.

So, after settling in, I went straight to the hotel restaurant to have soup again, as it seemed to be the most comforting for me.

Lunch in Bogotá

By the way, when I returned to Belgrade, I tried to make this soup and succeeded, although I had to improvise. I found it very tasty, and here’s the recipe.

Ajiaco soup served in a plate I have made myself

AJIACO SOUP

1 piece of chicken breast
2 l of water
2 fresh ears of corn, cut into 3–4 pieces each
2 white potatoes
2 red potatoes
1 sweet potato or piece of pumpkin (if Andean potatoes are unavailable)
1 large carrot
1 small onion
1 cube of chicken broth
2 cloves of garlic
2 tablespoons chopped coriander leaves
1 tablespoon dried oregano leaves
1 tablespoon dried mint leaves
sour cream
capers
salt and pepper to taste

Place the chicken, corn, coarsely chopped onion and carrot, coriander leaves, garlic, salt, and pepper in a large pot. Pour in the water and bring to a boil, then add the chicken broth cube. Let it cook over medium heat for about 35 minutes, until the chicken is tender.

Remove the chicken and separate the meat from the bones and skin, shredding it into pieces. Eventually, only the meat is used in the soup. Add the chopped potatoes, dried oregano and mint to the remaining soup, then continue cooking.

When the potatoes are cooked, return the chicken to the soup. Serve with sour cream and capers.

And as for my time in Bogota, I spent the rest of the day mostly lying down and sleeping, and in the end I felt somewhat stable.

However, the next day I woke up feeling so exhausted that I could barely stand. After much internal debate, I managed to make it down to the hotel breakfast room and ate a little fruit because my body seemed to crave it. I even tried to venture outside the hotel with the intention of going to a nearby convenience store about 50 metres away, but after a few steps, I realised I wasn't sure if I could manage it.

Distressed by my condition, I returned slowly to my room. This was definitely not good and at first I didn't know what to do. Then I remembered I had travel insurance, so I started researching how it actually worked, as I had never needed it before.

This trip to Colombia was quite unusual for me. Apart from experiencing Colombia itself and my interactions with its people, nothing else seemed to go right.

I “bought” the plane ticket in November and ten days before the trip, I found out I didn't actually have it because for some reason the airline hadn't taken the money from my bank (via card). The fact that the airline sent me an email, confirming my reservation and wishing me a pleasant journey meant nothing because I didn't receive the actual electronic ticket. The fact that the bank informed me that the money had been deducted from my account also meant nothing because the funds were held as "reserved" but unusable. So, I had to buy a new ticket (which I even found at a lower price) and file a complaint with the bank to release my funds.

When I finally arrived in Bogotá, my luggage didn't arrive on the same flight and they told me it would arrive the next day. It didn't. It arrived two days later and in the meantime, due to stress and lack of sleep, I caught something like a cold.

Even the small laptop I carry for travel started to malfunction (there were some contact issues), so I avoided using it because I didn't know if it would stop working altogether at some point and I needed it.

I also ordered a guidebook for Colombia online well before the trip. It was supposed to arrive within a maximum of 2 weeks, but it didn't arrive even after four weeks. I wrote to the company and they promptly refunded me. Then the guidebook finally arrived, so I had to return the money, but even that process wasn't smooth and involved a few steps, including a visit to the bank.

Upon arriving in Colombia, the credit card I use during my travels was working, but I wasn't receiving any SMS notifications, which meant I had no insight into my account balance or if someone had potentially stolen my card or data and started spending. It turned out the reason for this was that I didn't have roaming activated. I reported the issue to my mobile operator via email and for nearly two weeks, we exchanged messages. Their (useless) technical support gave me instructions like "turn it off and on again," but nothing worked. By the way, I should mention that when it comes to technical matters I am quite proficient for someone of my generation, although it's not my profession. So, the roaming never started working throughout my stay in Colombia, which was crucial for me to be able to make online purchases (an explanation follows).

For the time being, I wanted to call my insurance company's contact centre, but they only had a landline in Belgrade and my roaming wasn't working. So, I contacted a friend who is savvy with such things and she called them, providing them with my email address. That way, I ended up communicating through email with doctors in Belgrade who work for that insurance company.

I reported to them the type of problem I was having and then they began organising a visit by a doctor. It turned out that there was a possibility for the doctor to come to my hotel room, which was exceptional because I still didn't have the strength to stand, let alone go around Bogotá looking for doctors. I had to wait a bit longer and in the meantime I even felt the need to eat something.

So, I ordered a nice ceviche through room service. It wasn't Peruvian, but it was excellent and I was happy that I even felt like eating something because that is usually a good sign for me.

Ceviche in the hotel room

After several hours, the doctor arrived, examined me and the conclusion was as I had suspected - I had ingested something through water or food that caused the problem. My other health indicators were good and she prescribed what I needed to buy from the pharmacy the next day.

This all happened in the evening and by then I was feeling slightly better than in the morning, but I still went to sleep early. The next morning, I wasn't energetic, but I felt significantly better than the previous day. Enough to slowly make it down to breakfast and later I went to a nearby pharmacy to start taking probiotics and a supplement to restore electrolytes.

As the day progressed, I started feeling better and better. I wasn't back to my usual self yet, but around lunchtime, I took a short walk around the area and then began making plans for the continuation of my journey. I had come to Colombia with the intention of staying for a month, so there were still many places I had planned to visit. Due to the issues with my stomach, I had to change my plans and itinerary, so now I was figuring out how to fly to Medellín the next day, with the idea that I could take things slowly there and give myself time to rest and recover further.

Later in the afternoon, I actually felt well enough to decide to go sightseeing. I wanted to see the last building in Bogotá that remained from the series of works by the renowned Franco-Colombian architect Rogelio Salmona (1927-2007), which is on UNESCO's Tentative List of World Heritage Sites.

This was a straightforward endeavour; I called an Uber and their vehicle picked me up in front of the hotel and took me to the desired location. I walked around for about half an hour and then returned to the hotel the same way. It was necessary for me to test and see how realistically I could move around and I was pleased.

As for the building, it's the Residential buildings El Parque (Residencias El Parque), constructed between 1965 and 1970.

Residential buildings El Parque

By now, I was already quite familiar with the architectural style of Rogelio Salmona, but I was still glad I came here.

Residential buildings El Parque

The buildings are located on the edge of the historical centre of Bogotá and near Monserrate Hill, but right next to them, on the slope, there is also a beautiful park. However, what was particularly interesting to me here was that they were built right next to a bullfighting arena from 1931. Bullfighting was banned in Bogotá for a few years, but it was reinstated in 2017.

Bogotá Bullring

As for the park, it is called Independence Park (Parque de la Independencia) and it is one of the oldest parks in the city and was founded in 1910.

Path leading from the Residential buildings El Parque to the centre of the Independence Park

View from the park towards the Residential buildings El Parque

In the park, there are several monuments and interesting structures. I walked past the monument to Nicolaus Copernicus, while nearby I saw the Kiosk of Light (Quiosco de la Luz) that was built here as an exact replica of the structure erected in Versailles for Marie Antoinette.

Monument to Nicolaus Copernicus

Kiosk of Light

I also walked past the equestrian monument to Simón Bolívar. As far as I understand, this monument was recently moved here from another location.

Equestrian monument to Simon Bolivar

Within this popular park or in its immediate vicinity there are important national cultural institutions such as the National Library (Biblioteca Nacional), the Museum of Modern Art of Bogotá (Museo del Arte Moderno de Bogotá), the District Planetarium (Planetario Distrital) and the National Museum of Colombia (Museo Nacional de Colombia).

None of these interested me at the moment and I wanted to return to the hotel, so I walked a bit further to reach one of the main streets. Along the way, I passed by the bullfighting arena and arrived at the National Museum.

Residential buildings El Parque and the bullring

National Museum of Colombia

I even felt well enough to consider taking a bus back to the hotel. However, I changed my mind and waited for an Uber instead.

Bogotá, a detail

Instead of going to a travel agency the next day to buy a plane ticket to Medellín, I woke up again without any energy at all. I continued to rest that day and in the afternoon, I made a decision – I am returning home, more than two weeks earlier than planned. Here's what I managed to visit in Colombia during this short stay:

Of course, the issue with my roaming not working persisted, which meant I couldn't purchase a ticket online by myself because I needed to receive an SMS with a security code during the transaction, something I couldn't receive. This realisation was horrifying because it can happen to anyone, at any time and anywhere. No amount of "turn it off and on again" advice from the technical support helped. Nowadays, we all rely heavily on our devices and modern technology, and when this works, everything is smooth and easy. But when it doesn't, it becomes a huge problem.

So, the next morning, I coordinated with my nephew Nikola in Belgrade to buy the ticket online for me, while I received it on my email in Bogota. In the afternoon, I was already flying back. By the way, my mobile phone worked perfectly fine and I had roaming both in Panama City and Istanbul, where I had layovers.

A day later, I was back in Belgrade and in my own flat. Despite regretting not exploring Colombia more thoroughly, given the circumstances, I was extremely happy to be home.

Did I regret that I went on this trip, even though everything went awry right from the start? Absolutely not. Not in the least. Colombia is an exceptionally beautiful country and I only saw such a small part of it. Moreover, the experience in the Amazonia, despite the issues I faced there, was so magical that even weeks later, I felt immense excitement as I wrote these stories.

Speaking of the stories, I want to emphasise that I described my problems in detail not in order to discourage others from travelling, but to show that challenges are part of the journey – both those that take us to distant lands and those we encounter in life. It's important to learn how to face problems, learn from the experience and move forward.

And as for Colombia...? Well, I hope it will welcome me with open arms whenever I decide to visit again.

Colombia 2024, part 14 (San Francisco Lake, Lake Tarapoto, Puerto Nariño)

Verica Ristic — Fri, 24 Apr 2026 15:27:00 GMT

It was a perfect day with a terrible ending.

But let me continue with the story about my short stay in the Amazonia. After the excursion to the Peruvian island of Cacao, returning to our accommodation and waiting out a heavy downpour, the weather stabilised. The four of us (Jessica from England, Giacomo, an Italian living in Paris, Felipe, a Colombian living in the Netherlands, and myself) who had quite by chance “got together” here and had bonded rather well in this short period, were able to embark on an afternoon trip to Lake Tarapoto.

The excursion started upstream through a natural 'canal' that leads from the mouth into the Amazon towards the mouth of the smaller Loretoyaco River. Considering how names are given to bodies of water here, this 'canal' could be called a 'lake', but I didn't find any name for it on the maps, so I'm describing it this awkward way.

In any case, somewhere near the mouth of the Loretoyaco River, on the left side, there's a passage to a larger 'side' body of water called Lake San Francisco (Lago San Francisco).

The Amazon basin, a detail

All of this can be seen on the map showing the places I visited during this trip:

To begin with, we saw trees growing in the water, where the most interesting aspect was their trunks: dark-coloured at the bottom and light-coloured at the top. This clearly demonstrates the significant seasonal fluctuations in the water levels of the Amazon River and its tributaries, which I have mentioned earlier. The river level difference averages about 9 meters, while these trees illustrate how high the water can reach.

The Amazon basin, a detail

However, when we entered Lake San Francisco, the young man guiding us on this excursion turned off the engine, and we drifted for a while. The scenery was exceptionally beautiful, while the calm surface turned into a natural mirror, creating marvellous visual displays.

San Francisco Lake

Strictly speaking, Lake San Francisco is not actually a true lake but a large expansion in a watercourse that connects two points along the Amazon. However, the water colour (less muddy), less noticeable water movement and the calm, expansive surface certainly create a feeling of being on a lake rather than a river. I was completely delighted and filled with admiration.

San Francisco Lake

Still, the main reason we stopped and turned off the engine right here, as well as at a few other spots, wasn't necessarily to admire the natural phenomenon, but rather to watch river dolphins. Needless to say, these are wild animals, so visitors must arm themselves with lots and lots of patience and only hope that they just might see them.

On our return from the morning excursion, we had already seen a couple of dolphins in the main flow of the Amazon, but they are evidently found in various places.

These belong to the species known as the Amazon river dolphin (Inia geoffrensis), but due to the skin colour of adult individuals, they are also called pink river dolphins. The colour of these dolphins actually varies – young ones are gray (from dark to light shades as they grow), while adults are pink. Additionally, as our guide told us, young dolphins can and often do leap out of the water, while older ones only occasionally surface in order to breathe.

But filming dolphins for an amateur like me is a very demanding task. I tried my best and even managed to film the back of an adult dolphin and several young ones. I can report that I even saw an adult dolphin whose head and long snout protruded completely out of the water, but by the time I moved the camera, it had already disappeared into the water.

What I managed to edit from my recordings, including occasional parts without dolphins in order to give an idea of the surroundings, can be seen in the following video clip:

In-between those few stops to watch the dolphins, I enjoyed the sights around me intensely and occasionally I captured them on camera.

San Francisco Lake

San Francisco Lake is connected through a longer natural canal to another, slightly larger lake called Tarapoto and now we headed in that direction. The entrance to the canal is somewhat wider, but as we proceeded, it became clear that this was a narrow passage through dense Amazonian rainforest.

Canal between San Francisco and Tarapoto lakes

Here is a video that should illustrate what it all looked like. I was beside myself with happiness coming from the beauty of the landscape and the experience.

Canal between San Francisco and Tarapoto lakes

Great egrets (Ardea alba)

Canal between San Francisco and Tarapoto lakes

At the end of the canal, right at the entrance to the lake, there was a raft and a small house where guards were stationed. Visitors must register and pay a fee there.

While everyone was registering in the visitors' book, I was filming the lake and its surroundings, which were absolutely spectacularly beautiful. First, I started with the canal we arrived through and then I moved on to Lake Tarapoto.

Canal between San Francisco and Tarapoto lakes

Lake Tarapoto

With all this beauty, it was impossible for me to imagine what our guide told us – that September and October are dry months and during that time, Lake Tarapoto completely dries up. For now, I was enjoying what nature so generously offered here.

Lake Tarapoto

And then came the moment when we stopped in the middle of the lake and it was time for swimming. I jumped into the lake and even have a recording, but the young guide was too "creative" and kept changing the position of the mobile phone while recording, so it didn't turn out well. But I have other videos and photos. We were all ecstatic.

Swimming in Lake Tarapoto

When we all returned to the boat (and I struggled to climb aboard, meaning I'll need to work on my arm muscles a bit), we continued sailing around the lake and then we ventured into a shallow area and among the trees.

Lake Tarapoto shallows

One of the frequent associations with the Amazon and its murky waters are piranhas. Let me say right away that the popular culture fuelled by movies bordering on science fiction is providing completely wrong information – it's not really possible for piranhas to bite you to the bone within 10 seconds and for you not be able to react to it. So, we swam in the lake and then waded into the shallow waters of that same lake to fish for piranhas.

The guide gave to us all the most common fishing rods and pieces of fresh chicken meat, and then he explained to us how to put the meat on the hook. The rest was up to us and sheer luck.

As it turned out, I was lucky that day and caught a tiny piranha! As a rule, I am not a person who screams, but on this occasion I screamed with happiness, so in the end I felt the need to apologise to my companions. I don't know why, but I was really excited. Here is a video that brings all of this together:

Of course, I had to take a photo and give a "public statement".

Self-portrait with a caught piranha

And then, as if all this was not enough to make the day perfect, we sailed again on the lake whose surface was even more "polished" creating incredible effects.

Lake Tarapoto

Now we went to another spot on the lake from where we could watch a spectacular sunset.

Sunset seen from Lake Tarapoto

Since the day had already come to its end, we started back the same way – across Lake Tarapoto, then to the canal and eventually on to Lake San Francisco.

Twilight over Lake Tarapoto

Going back along the canal to Lake San Francisco

Here is the experience in the video version:

As we sailed on Lake San Francisco, we were accompanied by a nearly full moon.

Twilight over Lake San Francisco

I looked back trying to absorb even more beauty through the photos I took here.

Twilight over Lake San Francisco

As planned, we returned to the accommodation and we also agreed that all four of us would go for another walk in the rainforest the next morning, but this time on the Colombian side.

Some time later, the dinner started. My soul and thoughts were still filled with elation, but my body began to act strangely. Soon all hell broke loose.

First, I suddenly had the most horrible gas I've ever had in my life. In that state, I went to dinner, but I had no appetite, so I only ate a little, plus I also had to get out of there quickly so as not to disturb others.

Soon I started shaking with fever and I think I had an extremely high temperature; I was shaking all over and so was the bed I was lying on. Feeling very weak, I went to my backpack and pulled out my winter jacket, but also a few other pieces of clothing to keep warm. I took a medicine to reduce the temperature and it worked at some point, but then I started frequent visits to the toilet. My stomach was perfectly fine, but my intestines were not. And in this way I spent that whole agonising night, unable to shake off the anxiety at the thought that I should return to Leticia the following day.

During the night, I heard the rain pouring outside, while another problem began to arise for me. Specifically, I was becoming extremely thirsty and I only had a half-litre bottle of water. In that "hotel" where I was staying, they provided us with an unlimited amount of water from large containers, but you had to go to the dining room and kitchen for it. As luck would have it, when I arrived, I asked the owner what to do if, for instance, I got thirsty in the middle of the night, and he said there was no problem because “there is always someone in the kitchen."

And thus, as exhausted as I was, around midnight I realised I needed more water, so I struggled to get up and first left the house where my room was. Then, I walked across a covered path to the dining room door. It was locked. I started knocking and banging and shouting "Hola! Hola!", but it was quite clear that there was no one there.

Luckily, it wasn't raining at that time, so I carefully walked along a different path, making sure not to slip, to another entrance to the dining room. However, the situation was the same and my knocking on the door and calling out yielded no results. I tried to return to the house where my room was on the closer side, but those doors were also locked, so I had to go around again. Then, I became afraid that I might have inadvertently shut and thus locked the door I had exited from, but it turned out I had left it open, so at least I could return to the house and my room, but I was still terribly thirsty.

Since the situation was more than urgent, I finally decided to wake up Jessica, who was sleeping in the room next to mine. I apologised profusely to her, but she was very understanding. It turned out she actually did have spare water, which we then poured into my bottle, so at least I could survive until the morning without dying of thirst. Of course, throughout the night, in addition to these problems, I also had frequent bouts of dry coughing. In the morning, I woke up feeling completely drained, without an ounce of strength.