Bergen Børs Hotel

‘Whose bright idea was this?!’ I screamed into the bellowing wind — a wind tearing around the summit of Bruviknipa, 800 metres above sea level, like it was navigating a Formula 1 Grand Prix. Mr Smith looked back at me sheepishly. Part of what had attracted us to Norway had been the opportunity to hike: to surmise the country’s bottomless everblue fjords from its mountainous peaks. But I suppose we hadn’t bargained for the weather. 

Huddled together, wrapped in an emergency foil space blanket — hardly able to hear ourselves think over the wind, hardly able to see through the fog and the rain — we frantically checked the local weather radar (what did we do before smartphones?!). The realisation was swift: we needed to get back down to solid ground, pronto. 

I say ‘pronto’, but if you’ve ever had to come down a mountain in adverse weather conditions, you’ll know that there’s nothing quick about it. 

Three of the longest hours later we reached the car: sodden, buffeted and a little abashed. And while I'm certainly not advising that you follow in our footsteps when it comes to holiday activities, the real point of all this is: after such damp and cold adventures, I cannot over-emphasise what a tonic it was to arrive at the supremely elegant Bergen Børs Hotel. Let me take you back…

Tumbling gratefully up the red-carpeted steps, we're met with a design-led lobby in possession of all the requisite features: calm efficiency, velvety quietness and sexy anonymity. Check-in is a combination of warmth and speed — everything we could want at that point — and before we know it, we’ve been whisked up to our room, the time having come to simply melt into the understated luxury of it all. Bergen Børs is an immediate balm — all memories of precarious hikes are pushed firmly out of mind. 

The rooms tell the building’s storied history. The architectural details are classical — a columned entrance; tall, coffered ceilings; arched windows (which open, hoorah!) — but the decor points to the building’s previous life as Bergen’s stock exchange. Our room on the third floor, overlooking a picturesque streetscape, is all sleek lines, smart shades of grey, cool white linen and mid-century touches. It’s one of the most spacious city hotel rooms we’ve ever stayed in — and isn’t space the true definition of luxury?

Still, as delighted as we are with our expansive room, we decide to let the hotel unfurl its wonders to us. We start at the bar.

It’s Friday night and we have a reservation at the newest restaurant opening by the Michelin-starred Pak brothers, a short hop away. We sway into the hotel bar beforehand, which is covered from floor to tallest ceiling in mirrored, bronze-tinted subway tiles. The effect is somehow both flashy and understated. A gentleman is stationed behind the bar in a white suit and black bow tie. We start the evening with champagne, in the thinnest of glasses, chilled to the chilliest of temperatures. We end the night in the hotel bar, too — getting a little too acquainted with the local aquavit.

The next morning we take breakfast in the quite frankly staggering Fresco’hallen: a triple-height space adorned with — as the name would suggest — huge frescoes of ochre, terracotta, dusky blues and earthy green shades. Bergen’s lively stock exchange may have once lived in this hall but, as a former stock trader, I can assure you that chaos reigns here no more — it’s is nothing but soft, understated luxury now.

The breakfast buffet leaves us wanting for nothing: there are hot options, there are cold ones; there are bowls piled high with every type of fruit; there are eggs in every guise. All the Scandi breakfast hallmarks are present too: warming bowls of porridge, slices of seeded rye to be topped with smoked fish and piquant pickles. Oh, and there are cinnamon rolls — let’s not forget about those. It’s all so fresh and wholesome that we start every day buoyed and ready to take on the ‘City of Seven Mountains’. Truly, nothing can dampen our spirits — not even the city’s persistent rain (239 days a year, to be precise). 

Bergen Børs is so centrally located that it proves the perfect spot from which to explore. We walk the Nordnes peninsula, where we look out over the far-reaching blue waters of Byfjorden. We hop onto the funicular and spy the panoramic land-and-sea view from the top of Mount Fløyen. We sip on the most delicious hot chocolate I’ve ever had from nearby Fjåk. We contemplate the angst-ridden works of Edvard Munch at the Rasmus Meyer gallery. We even consider a dip in the nearby Nordnes seawater pool, but decide to prioritise warmth for the rest of the trip. Perhaps the gentle luxury of Bergen Børs has made us soft… but we don’t mind, not in the slightest. 

Check-out comes far too soon, but we console ourselves with the knowledge that we will return one day — for more aquavit at the glitzy bar, more lazy mornings spent in grand spaces, more perfect hot chocolates. Until then, I’ll fondly remember the way that Bergen Børs welcomed us with open arms, coddling us with its warmth and splendour after Norway’s fjords so cruelly chewed us up and spat us out. A (luxurious) home away from home in every sense.