I like days where I wake up in a new place with absolutely no expectations and nowhere to be. There is freedom in letting the day unfold without hurry or pressure. So after a leisurely cup of coffee, we walk down the mountain to Sandvika, a small fishing community that used to be the site of a lucrative fish packing business. Today it is the location of a Norwegian fishing museum. We have zero expectations.

The museum staff welcome us warmly and suggest that we follow the brightly colored painted fish on the floor. We dutifully follow the cod to our first exhibit where we assume a virtual identity. We then follow our avatar through various tasks to teach us about the highly profitable Norwegian fish farms.

Other rooms take us through the old warehouse, built on stilts in the harbor. We learn that a container ship spilled in the North Sea and that rubber ducks have been found all over the world due to ocean currents. We watch well made documentaries about seal skins, the difficulty of fishing in the modern economy, and the real impact on small villages that dot the coast. I learned a lot and played games like a little kid. There was smiles and laughter.

After an enjoyable morning, we walk in the cold rain to another visitor center that explains the impact and controversy surrounding commercial salmon farms. It was kind of boring, but I learned of the existence of salmon lice. Who knew?

It unfortunately is still raining. We walk up the hill to a small bakery for coffee and a croissant. As I start to sit and remove my wet coat, a young woman informs me that she was saving the seat next to mine. It is the last seat left in the cafe, so we huddle around a small ledge by the cash register. No one seems to care that we are crowded into an ever tightening space. The person the seat is saved for eventually shows up and moves her seat closer into the one and one half foot of real estate we manage to claim. We take the hint and drink our tiny cup of coffee (think small juice glass) and head back outside into the cold rain.

Norwegians definitely have different views of personal space. They stand in doorways and block entire sidewalks. They block roads and aren’t in any particular hurry. They are not rude, just indifferent. They love to be spread out. At least that is my impression.

Along the way, we locate the Hanseatic League museum in the Bryggen district. This small museum is dedicated to preserving the original buildings of the Medieval “global trading network”. We walk through the offices with sliding peephole windows where the masters could spy on the servants. We were surprised to see a whip made of bull testicals that was used to whip apprentices that fell asleep or otherwise earned demerits.

Much of the building is a recreation. The district had fallen into disrepair. In the 1950s, some called the area a rat’s nest and wanted it torn down. But historians and preservationists prevailed, thankfully. Today Bryggen is a celebrated area of Norway. It is charming in all the best ways. We feel like we stepped into a time warp.

I am fascinated by the kitchen. It has a rain barrel suspended from the roof. A large oven cooked food, but also powered metal heaters inside the building. Apprentices had to wear special wooden shoes inside the kitchen to ensure they didn’t accidentally take embers with them into the wooden warehouses and start a fire.

It is long past lunchtime as we leave the museum, and the rain is mostly stopped. The first restaurant we find is a quirky Irish pub. No matter where in the world we are, there is always at least one. We find a “snug” booth and order. Meanwhile a bachelor party enters and begins to entertain the room. The groom proudly tells me in broken English that he was getting married to “get laid”. His friends drag him off as he waves and cheers his way out the door. Another man across the way nods to my husband and says “He has no idea what he is getting into.” Male bonding across cultures. I roll my eyes to prove their point.

To end our day, I decide that I need a little retail therapy. In general, I find Norway expensive. Food is triple the cost of home. Shopping is therefore less appealing. But I find a few bargains, including a wool sweater that will come in handy as we head further north. Even if I buy nothing, a favorite part of travel is exploring the shops and goods that give glimpse into another way of life. And anyway, today we have nothing better to do.