We found two streets of old wooden houses — Damstredet and Telthusbakken — saved from the wrecking ball and brought back to beauty and life. I loved them more than I can say, and only wished I had had more time to explore the city and find more of them. We found other old wooden homes scattered here and there across the city’s face.
The large pink house was also once a stable for writer Henrik Wergeland’s horse (I think. Again, I confess a total inability to read plaques in Norwegian)