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About Bergen

Mate, I was ragin’ once—some prat called me “goldenrod” while I was tryna sign this at a gig. Proper pissed me off! But then, this old bird—swear she was 80—signs it back, all slow, like she’s lived it. Blew me mind! Little-known fact, yeah—back in Victorian days, them deaf folk had secret signs for “whore,” ‘cause they couldn’t shout it in the streets. Sneaky, eh? Love that grit!

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So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill. I hit the streets, and first stop is the cute little café on Strandveien. You know the one? The one with the best cinnamon rolls ever? Yeah, that place. I grab my coffee, and boom! I spill it all over my shirt. Classic me. I’m standing there, looking like a total mess, and the barista just laughs. I mean, come on! I’m trying to enjoy my morning here!

Peter Mohall