Historical Walks

On this corner of Parkveien and Hegdehaugsveien stands one of Oslo’s most legendary restaurants. Lorry is where they come afterwards: guests from royal palace balls, Aschehoug’s much-talked-about garden parties, and the Confederation of Norwegian Enterprise’s power dinners.  

Ever since the apartment building was erected in the 1870s, wine and food have been sold here. The first merchant to run a grocery and wine shop on the premises was Casper Haakensen. Inside Lorry, you can still walk on the same wooden floor people walked on back then — which is why it is uneven, bumpy and creaky.

In 1901, Ringnes Brewery took over the property, marking the beginning of its restaurant era.

But it was not until 1935 that the restaurant was given the name “Lorry”. In other words, Lorry is one of Oslo’s oldest places to eat and drink, something reflected in its classic Viennese style, with booths lining the walls. Here, the waiters wear white shirts, black waistcoats and trousers, coloured bow ties and classic white aprons.

This informal restaurant has been run by the same family for three generations. In the 1960s, it was renamed “Park-kaféen” — a name seen as “bourgeoisly boring” — but in everyday speech it remained Lorry.

When “the living room of Homansbyen” was renamed “Lorry” again in 1984, Mayor Albert Nordengen was present, and Aftenposten reported that “not a throat was dry”.

The two floors overflow with stuffed animals from hunting grounds far and wide, antiques from every corner of the world, and an equally eclectic art collection assembled by Karl-Otto and his wife Herdis Bauer since they bought the place in 1978. It must involve an enormous amount of dusting. Many artists have used Lorry as a studio, and several have used their art as currency to pay the bill.

You are encouraged to take a tour of the premises. One display case is filled with dinosaur eggs and teeth, as well as actor Jon Eikemo’s wisdom tooth. The terrace stretches seven metres beneath a beautiful glass roof. Even the toilets offer their share of curiosities. The several-metre-tall giraffe, by the way, once disappeared during an afterparty, but turned up again after a missing notice was posted on Facebook.

Several “afterparty dramas” have played out here, and it has been described as a must for any political journalist to spend time at Lorry. For example, there was a great deal of press coverage after then Minister of Trade and Industry Trond Giske said more than he should have at an afterparty here with a group of business leaders in 2012. And after the annual palace dinner in 2025, Conservative Party figure Nikolai Astrup held a fist up to the face of Eirik Mosveen, political editor of Avisa Oslo, and told him what he felt like using it for.

In the corner building here, facing Hegdehaugsveien, there has been a guesthouse ever since the building was completed in 1900, designed by architect Julius Foseid. Several signs mark the entrance to “Cochs Pensjonat”.

The guesthouse was started in 1927 by the Coch sisters — hence the name. At the time, there were two guesthouses in the building: Cochs Pensjonat and Mina Johannessen’s Pensjonat.

During the interwar period, several guesthouses appeared. There was a housing shortage, and here on the west side of Oslo there were large apartments. Many widows and daughters were left with flats they could not afford to keep. Respectable middle- and upper-class women had limited career options, so several started guesthouses where they provided all meals, laundry and cleaning. Many buildings were constructed for this very purpose.

People had neither washing machines nor dishwashers, and few men knew how to cook. The guests at Cochs were permanent-resident bachelors, living two or three to a room. There was a bathroom in each wing, a toilet in the stairwell and a wash basin in the room. Three meals a day were served in the dining room, with coffee and cakes in the lounge opposite.

Guesthouse life also gave rise to a new expression. At the dinner table, it was considered good manners to ask for food to be passed to you, but in a guesthouse it was easier to stretch your arm across the table and take it yourself. Hence the term “pensjonatarm” — “guesthouse arm” — or “Norwegian arms”, as it was apparently called in Ireland.

Today, few guesthouses remain, but Cochs Pensjonat has gone in the opposite direction. When it opened in 1927, it occupied one floor. Over the years it has gradually expanded, and today it occupies all the floors above the shops. Its clientele has also changed. At first, individual guests lived here permanently; later, companies rented rooms. For a period, the guesthouse was increasingly run as a hostel, and its residents were social welfare clients with serious substance abuse problems.

In 1985, the guesthouse shifted to hotel operations. That was when Anne-Karin and Isak Skram took over as owners. The couple had met while living here in the 1960s: she as the daughter of the owners, he as a young student lodging at the guesthouse. They carried out an extensive renovation, installing bathrooms in most of the rooms. The bright rooms now have their own kitchenette, so modern bachelors can fry eggs all by themselves.

Many well-known cultural figures have lived at Cochs, and the place is described, among other works, in Lars Saabye Christensen’s novel The Half Brother (Halvbroren, 2002). The main character, Arnold Nilsen, lives in room 502 for 4,982 days. The room has therefore been named “The Half Brother”, and a copy of the novel lies on the bedside table. On Cochs’ 75th anniversary, Lars Saabye Christensen came here and read aloud from the book:

“I walk down to Cochs hostel. They have a vacant room, 502 on the top floor, Father’s old room. I get the key and run up the stairs. The curtains are drawn. The bulb crackles when I switch on the ceiling lamp.”

Hegdehaugsveien and nearby Bogstadveien have long been known as the most important shopping streets on Oslo’s west side. But in the early 1800s this route was nothing more than a small country road. It was only after the Royal Palace was completed in the late 1840s that people began settling west of the city.

By the 1870s Oslo was growing rapidly, and distances within the city became an increasing challenge. When the horse-drawn tram was introduced in 1875, one of the first lines ran up Hegdehaugsveien. This was no coincidence – the line led to Homansbyen, where many commuters with enough money for tram tickets lived. The trams had no fixed stops; passengers had to wave them down along the street.

The rows of brick apartment buildings along Hegdehaugsveien are typical of Oslo’s urban architecture. Most of the commercial buildings were constructed between 1870 and 1900 in classical and neo-baroque styles. While the buildings share a similar overall appearance, their façades differ in decorative details and ornamentation.

In 1927 visitors could admire Oslo’s very first Christmas street. Large garlands of spruce with colourful stars were strung between the buildings along Hegdehaugsveien. Two illuminated gateways marked the entrances with the words “Christmas 1927,” and the entire street glittered with festive lights.

The idea had come the year before, when baker Simon Solberg of Hegdehaugsveien returned from Stockholm inspired to make Oslo a city of Christmas streets. The concept quickly spread to other parts of town, and as one contemporary description put it, “the whole city seemed wrapped in Christmas’ soft silken web.” The tradition faded after a few years, but in 1964 the Majorstuen and Bogstadveien Business Association revived the shared Christmas lighting. Today the illuminated Christmas street stretches from Parkveien all the way up to the Majorstuen intersection.

By the early 2000s the area showed signs of decades of heavy use as a busy shopping street. The century-old pipes and cables beneath the road needed replacement. Between 2011 and 2015, landscape architects from Bjørbekk & Lindheim restored the street with inspiration from its historic character.

The entire street was dug up and rebuilt. Sidewalks were widened, and new streetlights, bicycle racks and waste bins were installed in a unified design. More benches and greenery along the sidewalks have made the street more inviting. The pavements are paved in dark grey granite with built-in heating, and the curb stones are lower with rounded edges.

Twice a year the street hosts car-free market days – one in spring and one in autumn. On these days the area fills with people, turning the street into a lively pedestrian market stretching the length of the neighbourhood.

The corner building at Hegdehaugsveien 32 was built in 1897 in the Neo-Renaissance style (architect Julius Foseid).

If you look up at the attic floor, you will notice that it has a slightly different style from the rest of the building.

During the night of the 6th  of November 1938, police constable Arve P. Haug from Hegdehaugen Police Station was walking down Bogstadveien when he noticed flames coming from the attic of this building. The attic roof was already fully ablaze, and sparks were shooting into the night sky. Haug ran to the nearest fire alarm box, smashed the glass with the hammer and pressed the alarm button.

Moments later he witnessed something terrifying: a person jumped from the attic window toward Oscars gate. The figure looked like a human torch. Soon after, another person fell to the ground. Within minutes an ambulance arrived and took away four people. Three died when they hit the pavement. The fourth, a young woman, died in the ambulance.

When the fire brigade arrived—only three minutes after receiving the alarm—the entire attic floor was engulfed in flames, and there was no longer any hope of finding survivors behind the door. The flames could be seen across much of the capital.

The party in the attic had been organized by the brothers Per and Aage Brandstrup, who had recently taken over the business of court photographer Karl Anderson. It had been 40 years since Anderson started his company, and the “Anderson Photo Studio” in the attic had been decorated for a jubilee celebration. The studio was transformed into a winter landscape under a starry sky. A “snow hut” made of cotton and glitter had been built, and the room was decorated with cotton panels, crepe paper and paper lanterns.

Next to the studio, chemicals and photographic film were stored. When the flames reached them, they exploded. Anderson had also used magnesium flash powder, which may have turned the fire into a devastating blaze. The studio had large skylight windows built into the roof to provide natural light. These likely shattered early in the fire, feeding it with oxygen. All 40,000 photographic plates belonging to the court photographer were destroyed, many of them portraits of the Norwegian royal family.

The following day large crowds gathered at the site of the fire, including relatives of the victims. In front of the entrance door lay ten charred bodies in a pile. People watched as stretchers carrying the dead were brought out to waiting ambulances. The four who had jumped from the windows were identified quickly. The others had been burned beyond recognition.

None of the 29 people attending the party survived what became the deadliest fire in Oslo’s history. One family alone lost twelve members. The tragedy left a deep impression on the city. Flags were lowered to half-mast, and the national broadcaster played mourning music. A memorial for the victims was broadcast on the radio at 7 p.m.

There had been 30 guests invited to the celebration. The thirtieth guest, a young woman, left the party before the fire started. The reason was simple: her escort had been paying a little too much attention to another woman. That small quarrel most likely saved her life.

Hegdehaugsveien runs through the heart of the Homansbyen neighborhood. On the corner where it meets Oscars gate once stood the area’s most famous landmark: the impressive Homansslottet, or “Homan House.”

In the 1850s, two brothers – lawyers Peter Jacob Homan (1816–1868) and Henrik Homan (1824–1900) – purchased two large estates just behind the newly completed Royal Palace. Their original idea was to divide the land into plots and let buyers build their own villas, similar to the development around the palace park. However, a period of economic downturn temporarily halted construction in the city.

When a major fire destroyed large parts of Oslo’s city centre in 1858, many wealthy families suddenly needed new homes. The Homan brothers saw their opportunity. They laid out streets, divided the land into plots, and developed the area according to a unified plan inspired by the elegant residential districts around the Royal Palace.

Henrik Homan had spent time in England and was inspired by the modern villa suburbs he had seen there. In these areas, a landowner would often build all the houses – frequently designed by the same architect – before selling them. The young and highly educated architect Georg Andreas Bull (1829–1917) was commissioned to design the villas here.

Construction began in the autumn of 1858, and the new residential area – soon known as Homansbyen – grew rapidly. Most of the villas were purchased by civil servants and members of the city’s professional elite. Professors, court officials, military officers, lawyers and senior government employees formed a distinctive community—what was then considered the intellectual elite of Christiania, the former name of Oslo.

Architect Bull’s final projects in Homansbyen were homes for the Homan brothers themselves. In 1866–1867 he designed the famous Homansslottet. The monumental building was inspired by English Gothic Revival architecture (Tudor style). In the 1870s its towers were topped with pointed spires, giving it an almost exotic appearance. On the roof stood a large sculpture known as “The Herculean Matron.”

Jacob Homan moved into the largest apartment in the building. In 1868, at the age of 52, he married Lucie Bull, the 22-year-old daughter of the famous Norwegian violinist Ole Bull. The marriage was short and unhappy, and Jacob Homan later took his own life. After his death, property developers completed the remaining villas in Homansbyen.

After World War II, city planners increasingly favoured modern high-rise buildings over the older villas. In 1956, Homansslottet was demolished to make way for a modern office building designed by architect Christian Astrup. The oil company Caltex moved into the new building in 1959, and a modern gas station opened on the Oscars gate side. The building also housed a post office facing Hegdehaugsveien.

When Homansslottet was demolished, the fire brigade prevented the rooftop sculpture “The Herculean Woman” from crashing down and being destroyed. The statue had likely been placed there by Jacob Homan himself, possibly as a tribute to his young bride. It is a terracotta copy of a Roman marble statue with the same name.

Today, this small but remarkable piece of Oslo’s history can be seen in the courtyard of Frogner Manor, where Oslo Museum is located.

At this lively intersection you’ll find a small resting place. Since 1962, a statue of Bokken Lasson – a leading figure of the bohemian cultural scene in old Christiania (Oslo) and one of Norway’s pioneers of cabaret – has stood here holding a lute in her hands. The string instrument became her trademark as a beloved stage performer.

Just a short distance from here, in Grønnegata, she grew up as one of the eight remarkable Lasson sisters, who became well known in Norwegian cultural life.

The Lasson family home attracted many artists from the cultural circles of old Christiania. One of them was Eva Nansen, the singer and wife of the famous Norwegian polar explorer Fridtjof Nansen, who gave Bokken singing lessons.

Bokken found her greatest inspiration in Paris, where she spent time with the artist couple Frits and Ingeborg Thaulow and experienced the lively literary cabaret scene of the time. In the years that followed, she toured across Europe wearing a self-made patchwork costume. Accompanying herself on a 12-string lute decorated with ribbons, she performed traditional songs, folk ballads and modern cabaret numbers.

Back in Norway she collaborated with the writer Vilhelm Dybwad. Together they founded the cabaret and revue theatre Chat Noir in 1912, which she directed until 1917. One of her most famous performances was the song “Tuppen og Lillemor,” written by Dybwad. The two married in 1916.

Public recognition came later in life. On her 90th birthday in 1961, she was honoured with a special celebratory performance at Chat Noir. The following year she received The King’s Medal of Merit in Gold, one of Norway’s highest civilian honors.

A biography published in 2012 notes that the statue represents “the young Bokken,” but sculptor Joseph Grimeland (1916–2002) created a figure that seems both young and old at the same time—as if she carries all the stages of her life within her.

The statue was a gift to the city of Oslo, donated by the shipping family A. F. Klaveness. Ironically, a relative of theirs – pastor Thorvald Klaveness – had once publicly condemned Bokken Lasson and the Danish writer Holger Drachmann for their relationship. Bokken herself found the situation amusing. She remarked that no other city in the world had erected a statue to a cabaret singer – not even Paris, the city of the famous performer Yvette Guilbert.

The property owners of Oscars gate 19 made this small square available on the condition that the city would maintain it.

When the statue was unveiled, the 90-year-old Bokken Lasson was deeply moved. Hundreds of people gathered here for the occasion. When she managed to say a few words, she quoted Holger Drachmann:

“If I have been able to give something, I will say this: I am only an instrument—the master plays upon me.”

In 2012, exactly 100 years after Bokken Lasson founded the cabaret theatre Chat Noir, Oslo Museum presented an exhibition about the cabaret singer who grew up here in Homansbyen. 

For more than 40 years, “the Queen of Homansbyen” — or “Doll-Lise”, as she was also known — was a familiar figure on the move here on the west side of Oslo and in the city centre.

Her real name was Astrid Christensen, born in 1899, and she was trained as a ballet dancer at the Johannesénske Dance Institute. There she learned, among other things, what was known as plastikk: the art of carrying oneself beautifully. 

With her quick, light steps, she made her way through the city streets, studying men closely in her search for true love. One of those who encountered the Queen of Homansbyen was Einar Granum:

“In her colourful costume from the Napoleonic era, with a whole greenhouse in red, white and green on her head, and shoes with silver buckles, she could suddenly appear in the darkness of night. And if you had time for a chat between one and two in the morning, you were certainly entertained. What’s more, she would grant you the title of count, or duke, or whatever such royal subjects are usually called — and that is certainly something worth taking with you. From your own people, you’re more likely to be called ‘you creep’ or, at best, ‘you fool’.”

One of the myths surrounding Astrid was that she had once been in love with a handsome sailor who died in the Atlantic. In the hope that he would one day return — and so that he would recognise her — she dressed as she had the last time they saw each other. She was always heavily made up, with red cheeks and coloured lips. Often she wore a scarlet coat with a white collar, white gloves, a white muff and white stockings. In summer, she carried a parasol and a pompadour bag, and wore a large bonnet decorated with flowers.

The coquettish little doll nodded and smiled to everyone. Haakon B. Nielson described her as “a splash of colour and a smile in our grey city”. When Astrid Christensen died in 1967, only one sister survived her.

Another city character associated with Homansbyen was the quiet, wandering scrap collector known as “Luse-Frantz”.

His real name was Frithjof Kristiansen, born in 1883. He ran a coal and firewood business until he was given notice to leave the property. When he left the shop, all he was able to take with him was a wooden cart. For the rest of his life, he hunted for bottles and scrap metal, which he sold to scrap dealers.

Everyone knew the man with the cart. In popular speech he was called “Luse-Frantz”, “Luseper”, “Frithjof Kølamann” or “Luse-Lars”. Frithjof always dressed in rags, but he did not have lice. It was probably a nervous condition that made him tremble and shake as if he were itching.

Every day, he roamed widely through the city. Frithjof never haggled over the price and always paid in cash. He was deeply religious and believed the best of everyone. He took pride in managing on his own and was unwilling to conform to the traditional social system. For a time, he lived beneath a veranda staircase here in Homansbyen.

Frithjof passed away peacefully in 1958. Since he had no close relatives, the parish priest of Trefoldighet Church arranged the death notice. Several thousand people paid their last respects at his funeral service, among them the city’s mayor, Rolf Stranger. 

After his death, this Oslo character was immortalised in a song by Lillebjørn Nilsen, and his cart is now kept at Oslo Museum.

In the corner building at Josefines gate 23, a neighbourhood grocery store served the residents of Homansbyen for more than 100 years.

The building was originally constructed with two floors in 1863. A third floor was added in 1883 for the merchant Olaus Syvertsen.

When the 26-year-old shopkeeper first opened his store here, many doubted he would succeed. The famous poet Johan Sebastian Welhaven reportedly exclaimed: “Imagine that—a grocer among the snobs!” Wealthy residents of Homansbyen were used to having their groceries delivered from large merchants in the city centre.

But the young shopkeeper understood his customers well. He realized that when people suddenly needed something quickly, the local shop would be their best option. Gradually the store became popular, and soon nearly every household’s maid came here to shop.

Syvertsen also knew how to present his business. Instead of placing barrels of herring, sacks of potatoes and containers of syrup outside the shop—as was common at the time—he installed elegant signs with gold lettering announcing fine imported groceries, fruit and quality wines. He began stocking more exclusive products: French sardines, grapes, imported cheeses and, not least, “fine wines” from prestigious brands. Before long, the well-to-do ladies of the neighbourhood started visiting the shop themselves.

The store became a local institution and attracted famous customers, including the writer Camilla Collett, the poet Andreas Munch, and the folklorist Peder Chr. Asbjørnsen. Eventually Syvertsen employed two delivery drivers and several shop assistants, while he and his family lived in the apartment above the shop.

Only a few historic shop interiors from old Christiania (Oslo) still exist today. Here you can still admire the decorative glass ceiling, filled with symbolic motifs of fruit and vegetables. The protected ceiling was painted in the 1880s by master painter Krogh-Fladmark. The interior of the nearby Stockfleths coffee bar has been inspired by the original grocery store.

Even in the 1800s, this street corner was a lively place. The horse-drawn tram passed through the intersection, and not far away there was a station for horse-drawn taxis. Behind “Syvertsen’s Corner” there is still a stable building where a rested horse would sometimes be harnessed to help pull the tram up the hill.

One colourful local character often stood here at the bottom of the slope: Lisa Kristoffersen (1833–1924). She was known for confronting drivers who mistreated their horses. Respected across the city for her devotion to animals, she became known by nicknames such as “Animal-Lisa,” “Dog-Lisa,” and even “Christiania’s awake conscience.”

In 1907, she helped establish Norway’s first animal welfare organization. After her death, she has been remembered as a pioneer of animal protection in Oslo.

Behind the large trees here lies a small green oasis in the middle of one of Oslo’s busiest shopping streets. The old sign on the wrought-iron gate, marked “21,” reveals that this park was once part of a private villa garden.

The Homan brothers – well-travelled and interested in art and architecture – worked with architect Georg Andreas Bull to create a romantic villa district. In Homansbyen, each house was designed in a different historical style inspired by various European traditions. The writer Camilla Collett once described the neighbourhood as resembling a masquerade:

“The most complete masquerade of human dwellings appears here in a strangely colorful mixture. All nationalities seem to have gathered: Normans and Goths, Turks and Chinese, Sarmatians and Hanseatics.”

The gardens of Homansbyen were admired from the very beginning. The idea of a villa, a concept dating back to ancient Italy, was to combine the comfort of city living with the peace of the countryside. Inspired by English garden suburbs, the villas here were built freestanding on their plots, aligned along the street and surrounded by well-kept gardens.

Homansbyen’s golden age came to an end in 1884, when Norway appointed its first parliamentary government. That same year a major constitutional crisis transformed the country’s political system, ending the era when much of Norway’s political elite lived in this neighbourhood.

In 1969, the lower part of the garden at Josefines gate 21 was turned into a small public park called Hygiea Park, named after a pharmacy across the street. The civic organization Selskabet for Oslo Byes Vel offered the garden to the public so that elderly residents could have a place to rest during their daily errands in the neighbourhood.

The fence around the garden was kept, which made many people believe the park was still private. When the area was revitalized during the renovation of the shopping street, new entrances and pathways were added to make the park more welcoming and accessible.

At the same time, landscape architects Bjørbekk & Lindheim wanted to preserve the feeling of an overgrown historic garden. The large old trees were kept, along with trimmed hedges, flowering shrubs, fruit trees and perennial flower beds. The park remains lush and green, but is now more open and filled with sunlight. New lighting creates a distinctive evening atmosphere while also improving safety.

When the park was reopened to the public in 2015, it was renamed Josefines Park. The name comes from nearby Josefines gate, which is named after Queen Josephine, an Italian-born queen who ruled Norway and Sweden from 1844 to 1859.

When Josefines park was inaugurated here in 2015, the garden had been given new, hidden treasures.

At the main entrance to the park, you are greeted by “The Protectionist Hen”. This feathered creature has been called “the mother of the entire art project”. Here, the artist Fredrik Raddum, born in 1973, has created a guardian brooding over a diamond — something that may symbolise value in the form of something we desire or dream about.

The art project emphasises the significance of the trees in the park. Its natural centre of gravity is the six-metre-high sculpture “Frondi tenere e belle”, which means “delicate and beautiful foliage” in English. 

It is no coincidence that the sculpture is an oak tree. Speaking to "Bogstadveien Magasinet", Fredrik Raddum said that he had always found trees fascinating:

“From the perspective of time, we are transient compared with them. There is so much history in the area and in the trees here. Just think of everything the trees have experienced while the city and all its development rush past. What will it be like here in 100 years? Trees also make me think about the future.”

The 1,000-year-old, gnarled tree holds so much history and so many secrets that they seem to be bursting out of it. Colourful branches seep out from the upper limbs in the form of leaks or columns of smoke. These appear in the primary colours: red, yellow and blue.

According to Fredrik Raddum, the choice of colours represents “what is important, simple and pure. At the same time, the colours are the starting point for everything, and the core of artistic practice. He believes that, in this context, they may represent the rainbow. And at the end of the rainbow lies the treasure. The artist emphasises that this is only one of many possible interpretations, and wants each of us to be free to create our own truth.”

The art project builds on the idea of the park as a secret garden. Its intention is to invite people in and add new layers to the garden in the form of secrets and references to unexplained natural phenomena. Hidden inside the hollows of the magical tree, for example, are three large diamonds. There are also some empty hollows, where visitors can add their own secrets or create their own value — as long as the hen allows it.

In addition, the work includes a diamond hidden in an unspecified location.

The sculpture group is cast in bronze, with patinated and powder-coated elements. Its durability was put to the test at the opening ceremony, when several children seized the opportunity to climb on it.

At this intersection with Professor Dahls gate, Hegdehaugsveien turns into Bogstadveien.

Bogstadveien was completed in 1861 as the final section of the road connecting the capital with Sørkedalen and Bogstad, areas just outside the city. The older route out of town followed what is now Professor Dahls gate and Majorstuveien, climbing steep hills over Hegdehaugen. This made it difficult to transport goods by hand or by horse and cart. The new road was both shorter and less steep, making travel much easier.

While building regulations in central Christiania required houses to be made of brick, wooden houses were still allowed in the suburbs. However, when this area was incorporated into the city in 1878, the wooden houses along Bogstadveien were gradually replaced by brick apartment buildings.

Building these structures was hard work. Every brick had to be carried up scaffolding ladders. The same ladders were also climbed by apprentices carrying countless bottles of beer—because, as people said, what is a bricklayer without beer? Skilled workers could stand high up on the scaffolding, singing loudly enough to be heard from afar. Writer Tryggve B. Steen described the bricklayers as sounding like “a buzzing hive,” often exchanging jokes and banter as they worked:

— Say wot you like, Peder, I don’t give a toss—but I’ll be damned if you get to say I ain’t a proper mate! We’ve been workin’ together for years now—yeah, you remember that mornin’ when we caught that posh lady in bed?

— Yeah, the one who forgot to pull the curtains—hic—yeah, now you say it! Blimey, that was a right sight, Rudolf!

— And you was singin’ all mornin’, Peder: “In me arms you shall not freeze” — — — freeeeze!

Life for working-class people at the time was tough. Wages were low, and many families struggled to make ends meet, especially those with several children. It was not uncommon for workers to seek comfort in alcohol after long and demanding days.

Over time, horse-drawn transport faced new competition. In 1894, Bogstadveien got its own tram line – known as the Briskeby Line – which was the first electric tramway in Scandinavia. Locals simply called it “the electric,” later shortened to “trikken” a word that has remained unique to Norwegian usage.

It was not until the 1890s that the long street began to take on its present form, with commercial buildings lining both sides of a broad avenue featuring wide sidewalks and classic street lamps.

However, this intersection could have looked very different today. In 1929, Oslo’s city planning director Harald Hals proposed an ambitious master plan for the city’s future. Bogstadveien was to become a major traffic artery leading out of the city. The plan included building a new main road – Edvard Griegs gate – from the city center through Homansbyen to a large square at this very intersection.

Looking back, the plan seems drastic. It would have required demolishing several historic villas in Homansbyen, as well as all the apartment buildings along one side of Bogstadveien.

Residential construction in Oslo grew rapidly in the decade when the tramway was introduced, and architectural styles from America, England and continental Europe flowed into the city. Along Bogstadveien, many apartment buildings from the 1880s and 1890s still stand today. Their façades show great variety, with decorative reliefs, ornaments and a rich range of colours.

The Franck Building, at Bogstadveien 11, is one of the most recognizable buildings on the street. The elegant commercial building was inspired by medieval and Renaissance architecture, with features such as a corner tower, spires, bay windows, stepped gables and arches. It was designed by architect Carl Michalsen.

In 1902, the merchant Johs. Franck opened a large textile and household goods store here, which operated for more than 80 years. The shop sold a wide range of products—from men’s clothing and women’s fashion to curtains, bedding, linoleum and carpets. Its specialty was fabrics sold by the meter, including dress fabrics and coat materials, which many customers brought to local seamstresses to have clothing made.

Some people believed the shop would struggle because it was located far from the traditional city centre. However, the store stood directly along the tram line, making it easy to reach from many parts of Oslo. During the 1920s and 1930s, the business expanded, and the second floor of the building was converted into additional retail space. Thanks to the building’s iron structural framework, large display windows could be installed in the façade, creating brighter and more open interiors – quite different from the more crowded shop designs of the 19th century.

“Franck in Bogstadveien” became one of the city’s leading stores in its field. Almost everyone in Oslo knew the shop, much like the famous department store Steen & Strøm. A 1933 book about the city described the store as impressively large:

“Order and precision prevail everywhere, and there is plenty of space to move around and examine the wide variety of goods.”

When Franck finally closed in the 1980s, it felt almost unreal to many longtime customers. People still remembered the inspiring department store atmosphere, including the cozy café on the second floor. But the arrival of large retail chains offering lower prices eventually made it difficult for independent stores to compete.

From the beginning, Bogstadveien has been known for its wide range of specialized shops. Over time, however, rising rents and the growth of chain stores have led to the disappearance of many small, independently owned businesses, while clothing stores have become larger.

Since 2010, the fashion retailer H&M (Hennes & Mauritz) has occupied the building. Inside, little remains of the historic shop. In the old days, there was often a small bell above the shop door. It rang cheerfully as customers came and went – and when the bell kept ringing throughout the day, it was a sure sign that business was good.

In 1880, around 200 members of Christiania Arbeidersamfund — mainly “the moderate” craftsmen — gathered and resolved to establish Kristiania Vestre Arbeidersamfund.

The association needed suitable premises, and in 1889 the “beautiful and spacious” building here at Bogstadveien 12 was inaugurated, designed by architect Ove Ekman. 

During a “particularly successful celebration”, the chairman gave a speech to the 600 prominent guests:

“The aim is this: to seek — for the benefit of ourselves, our municipality and our fatherland — to unite all that exists here in our little society of art, science and practical work into one mighty, shining light. Then may You, good God, add Your blessing.”

Vestre Arbeidersamfunn was no small operation. On the second floor were the society rooms, including the large banqueting hall, a café and a smoking room. On the ground floor were the savings bank and the handicraft school, along with seven shops intended to finance the running of the building. At the top were two “conveniences for rent”. But the enterprise did not go well. As early as 1908, Vestre Arbeidersamfunn was dissolved, and two years later the building was sold at auction.

The hall has been used for everything from meetings, theatre performances, parties, dancing, concerts and cabarets to — not least — cinema. In 1921, the capital’s first municipal cinema opened here. 

Access was via a steep staircase up from Bogstadveien, marked by a canopy.

The newspaper Nationen wrote that the venue could provide room for at least “half a thousand spiritually vacant and cinema-thirsty souls”. King Haakon and Queen Maud were enthusiastic cinema-goers here. The conductor Mischa Benedictow had a gift for selecting the music for the orchestra, and in the days of silent film, “Rosenborg Teater” was one of the country’s most popular cinemas.

During the Second World War, the magician and stage artist Arnardo was among those who took the spotlight here:

“At the old Rosenborg cinema, he opened a performance based on hypnosis and suggestion that became legendary. Respectable citizens were invited up on stage and made drunk on imaginary champagne and entangled in battles with highly invisible ants. There were not many performances. The authorities dug up a paragraph that put a stop to this kind of play with people’s mental lives.”

Since 2006, the clothing store Zara has occupied the completely remodelled building, which has been given a new entrance from Bogstadveien and a new, narrow connecting structure towards the neighbouring property in Hjelms gate, designed by A38 architects.

The functionalist buildings at Bogstadveien 20 and 22 are among the most interesting architectural features along this street.

In 1929, city planner Harald Hals presented a bold and forward-looking master plan for Oslo’s development. One key idea was to widen the southern side of Bogstadveien, setting new buildings further back from the street to create more space. This is clearly visible here today.

When the owner of Bogstadveien 22 applied in 1929 to demolish a two-storey wooden house and replace it with a commercial building, the application was initially rejected due to an incorrect building line. It followed the older street width of 15.7 metres, while the new plan required a width of 25 metres. When the new apartment building was finally constructed in 1931, it was set 9.3 metres back from the street (architects Harald Sund and Sam Axelsen).

Although the ambitious master plan was never fully realized, parts of Bogstadveien were widened in shorter sections. Older wooden houses were demolished, but many of the brick buildings proved more difficult to replace and remained standing longer than expected. This explains the irregular building line along the street today, where façades shift back and forth. As a result, small open spaces have been created, bringing more light, air and room into the street.

When Bogstadveien was later upgraded, these open spaces were enhanced as public areas for rest and relaxation, with seating, flowering trees and shallow water features. After dark, you can see circles of light projected onto the pavement from tall light poles. These circular patterns are echoed in the decorative steel grates around the trees, as well as in the design of drains and manhole covers.

Back in 1929, Bogstadveien was already a lively street filled with trams, cars, horses, bicycles and handcarts. Horse-drawn taxis had rubber wheels, making them almost silent on the cobblestones. In summer, the horses wore small bells to warn pedestrians of their approach.

One young boy, Nils Jarmann, especially noticed that the horses wore rubber shoes. But horses were not the only ones being “shod” here—Bogstadveien quickly became known as a place to buy shoes. At Bogstadveien 20, shoes have been sold continuously since 1916.

The family business Agnar Hagen is still running today, now managed by the fourth and fifth generations. For decades, people have come here to find something new to walk in. The shop offers shoes for men, women and children, with a particularly wide selection for kids. High-quality footwear from around the world has found its place here.

Step out onto Bogstadveien in a new pair of shoes, and you might just notice the familiar scent of fresh leather as you walk confidently down the street.

When the artist Christian Krohg returned from Paris in 1898, Kristiania was almost unrecognisable. He had only been away for a year, but it seemed to represent an entire human lifetime.

In 1897, as many as 1,380 new building projects were registered in the capital, and the property market became an arena for speculation. But in 1899, the bubble burst, and the Kristiania Crash left behind an “unfinished city” with many exposed gable walls.

When people discovered that these gable walls had value as advertising spaces, a race began between the major tobacco, margarine, chocolate and soap manufacturers, and the many advertisements painted on gable walls became a colourful feature of the streetscape. Well-known artists were often commissioned to design the advertisements, which were painted directly onto the plaster by skilled craftsmen. But the development was also described as a “gable epidemic”, and a Swedish colour expert remarked that he had never seen a city with as many ugly gable walls as Oslo.

The steadily growing range of consumer goods in the 1920s and 1930s meant that advertising became a highly visible part of everyday life for Oslo’s residents, and the advertising landscape of the interwar period was dominated by cigarette ads. Oslo Sporveier was early in making use of advertising, and when the cigarette brand Blue Master was launched in 1937, large illustrations of cigarette packets were mounted at tram stops here along Bogstadveien. 

In 1957, there were nearly 800 tobacconists in Oslo, all filled with advertising. 

In addition, many gable walls were decorated with advertisements for cigarettes and Tiedemanns Tobak.

By the 1970s, however, the authorities had changed their tune. Tobacco advertising was banned as early as 1975, and alcohol advertising followed in the 1990s. In 2004, the “Smoking Act” made it illegal to smoke indoors in restaurants, cafés and bars, and the campaign against “illegal advertising” intensified. This had an almost immediate effect on the streetscape. All signs encouraging the purchase and use of tobacco had to be removed. Tobacco consumption among the population fell drastically, and tobacco shops lost their income base and had to close.

But it is still possible to see painted advertisements on gable walls in Bogstadveien. Outside Clas Ohlson here, a gigantic artwork signed by Einar Wilhelm Vedvik dominates the wall.

The motif is taken from one of the first advertisements the company produced after it was established in 1918.

Bogstadveien has been called “the baker’s street of the west side”. Every day, you can wake up here to the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries.

There are few grocery stores in this shopping street, but several traditional bakeries still remain. The big three — Baker Hansen, W.B. Samson and Baker Brun — are still thriving. These bakers were newcomers who started out in bakeries in the city centre before opening branches around Oslo.

The family bakery Baker Brun is now run by the sixth generation, Magnus Brun, who took over from his father, Axel, in 2018. The original founder was Jacob Bentzon Brun (1807–1889), who opened a bakery in Bergen in 1827. The family can therefore call itself Norway’s oldest family of bakers.

The bakery has been located here at Bogstadveien 30 since 1911. It was Herman Andreas Brun (1873-1944) who opened the branch in the modest little wooden house that stood here at the time. 

From the end of the Second World War, the queue stretched all the way around the corner with people waiting to buy sweet wreath-shaped breads for NOK 3.50, handing in 200 grams of sugar and 400 grams of butter. Occasionally, someone would hand in salt instead of sugar — but naturally, this was discovered.

A few years after the peace, the little wooden house was demolished to make way for the large concrete colossus that has towered here since 1951. Stylistically, it is classified as late functionalism. From the beautiful detailing — the railings, for example — it is clear that these were no ordinary functionalist architects. The building was one of the last works by Morgenstierne & Eide.

The remarkable apartment building has a varied inner life. Originally, it contained two confectioneries, six shops, a restaurant and a library, as well as 79 single-room lodgings and 16 apartments. On the ground floor, Baker Brun still has its shop, and every day fresh bread and cakes are baked here for the whole city.

In 1975, when a ban on Saturday baking was introduced, master baker Halvor Brun, the fourth generation, protested. Every Saturday, customers here in Bogstadveien could buy, among other things, so-called Sunday bread, which was still fresh the following day.

The bakery has undergone several changes over the years. In the 2010s, it sold off almost all of its outlets in the city. One of the advantages of being small is apparently the ability to act on impulse. When David Toska was arrested for the Nokas robbery, the bakery made 100 Tosca cakes, advertised with the slogan “Tosca cake at a break-in price”.

The building here at Bogstadveien 30 also has some intact shopfronts on the ground floor. One of them is the teak façade of the small shop Marinka, which appears authentic and complete, with display cases and detailing.

Around the year 1900, lavish decorative interiors turned everyday shopping into something almost festive. Many of these elaborate shop interiors have disappeared over time, but one of the few surviving examples can still be found behind the door at Bogstadveien 27.

The building was designed in 1890 by the Swedish architect Carl Aaman in the Neo-Renaissance style. For many years it housed Victoria Bakery and Confectionery, named after the Crown Princess of Sweden and Norway at the time.

It was a very different era. Women in rustling skirts, elegant buttoned boots and carefully styled hair visited the café, which became one of the most popular meeting places in the neighbourhood. In the courtyard behind the building there was a bakery and a stable, and horse-drawn carts delivered freshly baked goods to residents in the surrounding streets.

The prosperous merchants of Christiania (the former name of Oslo) who commissioned shop interiors in the 1890s were able to invest in prestigious premises. Glassmakers, carpenters and decorative painters were hired to create cohesive interiors of high craftsmanship. The design style was inspired by German traditions, brought to the city by skilled craftsmen traveling from mainland Europe.

When the premises were restored in 1960, the carpenters constantly had to replace their tools. The extremely hard oak panelling—mixed with sand in the wood—quickly wore down their planes and knives. After sandblasting away many layers of paint, the beautiful grey-gold oak surfaces finally appeared again.

In the 1980s, the property company Thon Group decided that the legendary Victoria Confectionery had had its time. Many longtime local customers were shocked when cakes and pastries were replaced with blue suits, sparkling wine and caffè latte. Oslo had entered the era of the 1980s financial boom, and property director Halgrim Thon was clear about the change:

“You simply couldn’t make enough money from pastries and coffee,” he reportedly said.

The bar “The Broker” opened here with great fanfare in 1985. As the name suggests, stockbrokers and businesspeople were especially welcome, and champagne often flowed freely. At last, Oslo had an alternative to the traditional coffee houses. The place quickly became popular with the city’s social elite, students and working people alike.

Today the café is no longer a gathering place mainly for the newly wealthy, and people are less focused on champagne corks popping in the air. What was once a Viennese- or French-style café now resembles an English-style pub. The interior combines rustic wooden floorboards with green mirrored wall panels framed by carefully carved beams and window frames. A new bar has been built in a traditional style, and classic chandeliers hang from the ceiling.

Visitors can still spend a long time simply looking up at the historic ceiling, which is protected as a heritage feature. From the large windows, you can also enjoy a front-row view of the lively street life of Bogstadveien outside.

During the First World War, trade with other countries came to a halt, which hit Norway hard.

Food shortages in the city became so severe that the municipality decided to establish public outlets for essential food supplies. From 1915 to 1927, these city-run shops operated in several locations across Oslo. One of them was in the small building that once stood here at Bogstadveien 39, where people could buy basics such as meat, potatoes, vegetables and fish.

The functionalist apartment building standing here today was completed in 1932 (architect Victor Schaulund). The long balconies are typical of the period, and the narrow horizontal band between the first and second floors elegantly wraps around the corner of the building.

Bogstadveien has changed significantly over time. Today, chain stores dominate, while small independent shops are fewer. But it wasn’t always like this – 100 years ago, the street was filled with small businesses and specialty shops.

This building still reflects that history. It houses examples of the many small, independent shops that once gave Bogstadveien its distinct character – exactly the kind of businesses these buildings were originally designed for.

“Majorstuen Tea & Coffee” is one of the few remaining specialty shops on the street. It began as a coffee shop in Homansbyen in 1928, and has been located here at Bogstadveien 39C since the 1930s, making it one of the oldest shops in the area.

When you step inside, you are greeted by the rich aroma of tea and freshly ground coffee. The shop offers more than 150 varieties of tea. If you’re looking for Darjeeling First Flush – the first harvest from tea plants grown in the Himalayas – you can find it here, though it comes at a price. Often called the “champagne of tea,” it is so sought after that enthusiasts have been known to queue outside when the new batch arrives each spring.

The old tea and coffee tins create an atmosphere of times gone by. There is a bell beside the original entrance door, and a beautiful old lamp hangs from the ceiling. Behind the marble counter, you can still spot the historic cash register on the floor. It only counts up to 99 kroner, so purchases over that amount once had to be entered in multiple steps.

Tea is most popular in autumn and winter, while coffee is sold steadily all year round. Regular customers visit daily to pick up their bag of freshly ground coffee. The shop also sells tea and coffee accessories, making it a small gift shop as well.

On the sidewalk outside, under the shelter of the eaves, there is even a bench where customers can rest.

Shops that specialise in particular food categories are becoming increasingly rare, whether butchers, bakeries or fishmongers. Further down Bogstadveien, there were once no fewer than three butcher’s shops within a radius of barely 100 metres.

For many years, there has been a fish shop under various names here at Bogstadveien 39, with its entrance from Schultz gate. Through the windows, you can study the selection at the fresh food counter, where cleaned and sliced fish is displayed on crushed ice.

In the 1950s, Oslo had more than 200 fish shops. Today, only a few remain outside the fish counters in shopping centres.

“Georg A. Nilsen” is one of the oldest shops in Oslo. It is Oslo’s oldest fish shop, and most likely also Norway’s oldest fish shop. When you open the door, you are met by a smell entirely its own.

The shop was established in 1901 by Georg Alfred Nilsen (1874-1955) at the old fish wharf in Kristiania. Later, the business had premises at Frogner. 

In 1999, it moved here to Bogstadveien, where it is still holding its ground. Throughout all these years, the company has belonged to the Nilsen family.

Norway is a seafood nation, but knowledge about fish is in short supply. In the past, fish was everyday food and meat was for special occasions in Norway. Today, this has been turned on its head.

In earlier times, wholesalers, shopkeepers and chefs queued up to compete for the best fish arriving at the Fish Hall in Oslo. Today, only a tiny handful of fishmongers make the trip at dawn to secure the best catch. “Georg A. Nilsen” still turns up at the Fish Hall early in the morning to hand-pick the finest ingredients. Every day, the fish is laid out. Every evening, it is packed away.

The varieties of fish you find here are mostly already filleted or prepared as oven-ready meals. Hardly anyone buys whole fish anymore, since everything is expected to be convenient. The housewife is gone, and young people cannot stand getting fish bones in their mouths. So the shop has to do all the preparation in advance.

In some areas, shopping centres cannot compete with specialist shops. This is especially true of the specialists’ product knowledge and the service customers receive from the staff. Over time, relationships are built with regular customers. The employees share their expertise and offer advice on preparation and serving.

Here at “Georg A. Nilsen”, the fish varieties and game products follow the seasons of the year. In March, cod is especially important; in April comes whale meat; in June, wild salmon; in August, crab; later in autumn, crayfish and lobster; and towards the end of the year, rakfisk and lutefisk.

The shop has its own tank filled with live lobsters.

Today, Oslo’s historic city centre is undergoing transformation – much like many cities around the world – where older buildings are given new functions and uses.

Along Bogstadveien and Hegdehaugsveien, many buildings have kept only their historic façades, while the interiors that once told the story of their past have disappeared. Valkyrien Shopping Centre is an example of this kind of development.

The centre occupies what used to be five separate properties: Valkyriegata 1–3, Bogstadveien 45 and Ole Vigs gate 22–24.

Before the redevelopment, the area was filled with small shops. For 17 years, the Norwegian crime writer Jo Nesbø sat writing at the café Kaffebrenneriet here. When the café closed during the construction of the shopping centre, he reportedly wandered around the neighborhood searching for a new place to write.

In 2014, the buildings were officially merged into one development project. In the courtyard stood a bread factory more than 100 years old, along with a tall industrial chimney and a horse stable. During the reconstruction, the historic façades, the industrial buildings and the bakery chimney were preserved.

The shopping centre in this historic block opened at the worst possible moment—during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. From the outside, Valkyrien may seem rather discreet. A sign by the entrance lists the shops inside.

Here you can say that you are invited into one building, and then you enter another. The architecture firm Mellbye Arkitektur created an interior of modern concrete and light steel structures. From street level, escalators lead to both the upper and lower floors, where visitors encounter open retail spaces enclosed in glass. Most of the shops are clothing stores, while the lower floor contains grocery stores and a Vinmonopolet—Norway’s state-run shop for wine and spirits.

In Valkyrien, areas that traditionally would have been corridors or shared spaces are also used for displays and merchandise. The preserved old bakery building, located in the centre of the complex, serves as a visible link between the past and the present.

Projects like this often spark debate. The practice of preserving only building façades has been criticized and given nicknames such as “façadism,” “shell preservation,” or even “Disney façades.” While this approach preserves the historic street view and urban environment, critics argue that the building’s authenticity is partly lost.

As ethnologist Arne Lie Christensen explains:

“Even when these buildings were first constructed, façades were seen as the building’s festive costume, and there was not always a direct connection between the façade and the interior—although the contrast is now much greater. Today, as in the past, façades form the walls of the city’s streets and squares, and they play a major role in our experience of being in an old city.”

In 2021, the renovation project was nominated for Oslo’s Architecture Prize.

In the 1890s, apartment buildings gradually spread up along Bogstadveien, and by the turn of the 20th century a small triangular square had formed here between Bogstadveien and Valkyriegata.

The tram line reached Majorstuen in 1894, and four years later the Holmenkollen Line – one of Oslo’s first suburban railways – was extended down to the same station. Because many passengers had to change trains at Majorstuen, people soon began asking for a direct underground connection to the city center.

In the autumn of 1912, construction began on a 2-kilometre tunnel through the clay beneath the city. The ambitious project aimed to place the small capital of Christiania (the former name of Oslo) among the ranks of modern metropolitan cities such as London, Paris, Berlin, Budapest and New York.

On 23 October 1912, however, a dramatic accident occurred. A loud roar echoed through the area – not from dynamite, but from 800 cubic metres of earth collapsing into a deep cavity. A tram had just passed moments earlier, and the tram tracks were left hanging “like a bridge over the gaping hole.” It was remarkable that no one was killed. The prestigious project suddenly turned into a public scandal, and construction stopped until compensation for the extensive structural damage to nearby buildings had been settled.

Once the excavation existed, planners decided they might as well build a station there. After 16 years of construction challenges, Valkyrie plass Station finally opened, designed in Neoclassical style by architect Kristofer Lange. The station closed in 1985 because it was too close to the nearby Majorstuen station and because its platforms could not easily be extended. Since then it has remained in darkness underground – except for Christmas decorations that have lit it up each winter since 2012. Many people became curious about the abandoned station after seeing it in the Norwegian TV series “Valkyrien” (2017).

Above ground, the square has also changed over time. At one point there were no public toilets nearby, and the area became so unsanitary that locals jokingly called it “Lasaron Park” (after the Norwegian word for a tramp or drifter). Later, new lawns were planted, and the square became a popular romantic meeting place, earning the nickname “Widows’ Park.”

The name Valkyrie Square refers to the Valkyries of Norse mythology – the warrior maidens who serve drinks to the gods and fallen warriors in Valhalla. Over the years there have also been attempts to introduce outdoor cafés on the square. In 1992, journalist Bjørn Brøymer humorously described the small food kiosk that once stood above the station entrance:

“The fast-food stand that now occupies this fine open square in Oslo is a temple of grease and national sausages. Step inside this sanctuary of French fries and you are immediately assaulted by a smell of fat so strong it clings to your clothes.”

Today, Valkyrie Square appears as an attractive small park surrounded by beautiful historic apartment buildings. It’s easy to see why the neighbourhood is sometimes nicknamed “Little Paris.”

Here at Valkyrie plass, a nude female figure rises proudly on her tall granite plinth.

The work, created by sculptor Nic Schiøll, consists in part of fifteen and a half tonnes of dark labradorite stone, shaped as a fountain and an obelisk. The granite is decorated with reliefs featuring stylised and symbolic motifs.

The sculpture fountain was given to Oslo by Frydenlund Brewery in connection with the brewery’s centenary in 1959. This explains why the girl at the top is holding a hop vine, since hops are an important ingredient in beer brewing. Originally, the sculpture was to be placed near the brewery — at the intersection of Pilestredet and Parkveien — but Harald Hals’s general plan from 1929 meant that there was no room for it there.

Nic Schiøll (1901-1984) was a highly productive sculptor who carried out many public commissions. All his statues are marked by the same frontality and smooth surface, and Schiøll never attempted any probing psychological study. Instead, he followed the motto of his youth: to place sculpture at the service of society. He did this by emphasising a simple formal language and uncomplicated ideas. For his artistic work, he was awarded the King’s Medal of Merit in gold in 1950.

The bronze sculpture itself here at Valkyrie plass, standing at the top of the obelisk, is called “The Girl with the Hop Vine”. When the girl was ceremonially unveiled here in 1960, the vine lost some of its symbolic function. 

But in 1973, the writer Even Hebbe Johnsrud argued that the bronze nude works well in its surroundings:

“In its classicist form and cool distance from the viewer, the sculpture helps mark the district’s character as a respectable west-side neighbourhood, well elevated above ideological conflicts and social problems. A sweet and modest anti-Valkyrie, offering visual pleasure to an audience that presumably finds Wagner a little vulgar and Nordic shield-maidens unfashionable.”

On the 9th of April 1940, Norway was invaded by Germany and remained under German occupation for more than five years. For the busy shopping street here in Bogstadveien, the occupation created several challenges.

At first, goods from overseas colonies disappeared from the shops—products such as sugar, coffee, cocoa, syrup, bananas and oranges. Soon there was also a shortage of Norwegian foods, including meat, pork, eggs, fish and vegetables. Most of what did reach the stores was either rationed or replaced with substitute products.

Because goods were scarce, shops simply sold whatever they could obtain. Advertising became unnecessary, and long queues formed outside many stores. A large informal exchange market developed, where people bought items they did not need, in order to trade them for things they did.

Other essentials such as clothing and shoes were also rationed, leading to widespread repair and reuse. Shops began selling second-hand goods and offering repair services, and businesses specializing in shoe repairs and resoling opened in the area.

Fuel shortages were another challenge. As a result, the city’s tram company introduced freight trams to transport goods through Oslo.

Housing conditions were also difficult. Very few new homes were built during the war, while German forces needed accommodation. Many private homes – including apartments here in Bogstadveien – were requisitioned.

Among the wartime evictions, the persecution of Jewish residents stands apart. In 2015, Stumbling Blocks (Snublesteiner) were placed outside Bogstadveien 60 in memory of seven Jewish people who were arrested by Norwegian police and deported to their deaths.

The Reichmann family lived in a second-floor apartment in this building. David Michael Reichmann (born 1916) was married to Anra Frume Reichmann (née Jacubowitz, born 1910), and they had a young son, Gerhard Benny (born 21 May 1942). David Reichmann ran a fruit and tobacco shop near Tøyen School. His brother Arne Reichmann (born 1922), who worked as an office clerk, also lived here. On the 26nd of November 1942, all four were deported on the transport ship Donau and murdered in Auschwitz.

Also living in the building were the tailor Abel Reiff (born 1893), married to the Reichmann brothers’ sister Cecilie (born 1910), and Leopold Wulff Reiff (born 1887), who ran a clothing workshop in nearby Lørenskog. These three were also deported on the Donau and killed in Auschwitz.

According to Jewish tradition, a person dies twice: first in physical death, and again when their name is spoken or remembered for the last time. In the early 1990s, the German artist Gunter Demnig used this idea as the inspiration for the international memorial project “Stolpersteine” (Stumbling Blocks).

These small memorial blocks remind us that the Holocaust happened here as well, not only somewhere far away. When we “stumble” upon these plaques in the pavement, we are invited to remember that the names engraved on them once belonged to real people who lived their lives in this neighbourhood.

The First World War led to a period of high prices, and criticism was raised, among other things, against the expensive restaurants in the capital. When Christiania Folkerestauranter was established in 1914, its purpose was to offer “simple and affordable places to eat”. In 1921, the seventh people’s restaurant, “Den Gamle Major”, opened its doors here at Bogstadveien 66.

The “small and cosy café” was inspired by Vilhelm Krag’s stories about “Major von Knarren”. The humorous illustrations of “the famous major’s exploits” have decorated the walls here ever since the place opened. For a long time, the pictures hung loosely on hooks, and the tear in one of them is said to come from an incident involving an unruly guest. On Den Gamle Major’s website, the pictures are said to have been made by the well-known caricaturist Olaf Gulbransson. In newspapers from the opening year, however, it says that “the copies are masterfully made by Thoralf Kloumann”.

In Morgenbladet, one could read that the rugged warrior’s “stomach shows that he has frequented places whose cooks must have been at least as skilled in their profession as the head chefs of the people’s restaurants”.

After major sporting events at Frogner Stadium, visitors could calm down here, and in one corner of the premises skis and poles would pile up from guests who made it no farther than this on their way out into the forest. The serving regulations were not always strictly observed, and the waitresses served sherry discreetly from a coffee pot.

The legendary café has been through several changes. During the first week after the reopening of the second floor in 1979, any retired majors who happened to appear were offered free servings of von Knarren’s pork fillet, the Ensign’s own steak, the Dragoon’s herring platter, Cavalry Captain’s roast, Hussar pepper steak, Drummer’s roast or Parade stew. The restaurant was apparently meant to live up to Major von Knarren’s motto: “Immer bereit!” — “Always ready!”

When Den Gamle Major was taken over by Olav Thon in 1984, the restaurant had white tablecloths and strict serving rules. Today, the restaurant “Gate of India” occupies the second floor.

Den Gamle Major is nevertheless one of the traditional brown cafés that has survived, even though the ground floor today looks more like an English pub. The bar counter, inspired by Gothic church architecture, was designed by an English specialist in nostalgic interiors. By the entrance door, you can look down into the cellar through a glass panel, and at the back of the room the toilets are hidden behind a bookcase.

Do you know why the area here above Hegdehaugen is called Majorstuen?

In the 1750s, Michael Wilhelm Sundt (born 1729) leased a large estate of about 70 acres belonging to Nedre Blindern farm. Here, on the site where Majorstuhuset stands today, he built a small house. The timber building lay far from the city center, surrounded by open fields, with a stream running just behind it. Sundt was a respected man who achieved the rank of captain, and he also held the title of cavalry major. People therefore called him “the Major,” and his house became known as “Majorstua” – the Major’s house.

In 1759, the Major died at just 30 years old, but the place did not lose its popularity. It was turned into a roadside inn and tavern, a role it kept for many years. Here, weary citizens from Christiania could quench their thirst with a cold beer. Large, leafy poplar trees provided welcome shade on hot summer days.

As late as 1898, the writer Thomas P. Krag remarked on how unusual the place seemed:

“How strangely Majorstuen lay there, so lonely on the wide plain, shaded by two or three tall trees. It reminded one of houses in remote places, the kind sung about in old ballads. (…) the old innkeeper (…) served beef and chops with some red wine that made our heads heavy. Later in the evening, three Russian sailors came stumbling in, smelling of crayfish and pepper, still crunching shells between their teeth and speaking in an incomprehensible language. After a while they left; but the Major eventually sat down with us, drank himself drunk on his own rough wine, and cheated us at cards. (…) When we had grown cheerful and the moon rose, we walked along the great country road, now and then singing to the moon.”

But the peaceful days did not last. When the Holmenkollen line was built in 1898, Majorstuen became a popular destination, and in 1914 the old timber house was moved to make room for an expanded station area.

The monumental Majorstuhuset was built here between 1928 and 1932 in neoclassical style, designed by architect Kristofer Lange. Cafés and meeting places in the area are still popular today, but the quiet rural charm has been replaced by what some would call a “traffic chaos.”

Today, Majorstuen refers to an entire urban district. From what was once a peaceful country road leading out of the city, Bogstadveien has grown into a lively main street – one that, as someone once put it, has “managed to survive the ever-increasing pulse of the capital’s bloodstream.”

In the middle of the busy Majorstuen intersection stands a remnant from a distant past.

For a long time, horses were an important part of the cityscape. Although this district had largely been developed by around 1900, a great deal of construction work still remained, and real horsepower was used for street cleaning, emptying privies and transporting materials well into the 1950s. Horses needed water, and this fountain originally served a practical function as a watering trough. A watering trough is a large basin from which horses can drink, and since a good working horse needs around 40 litres of water a day, many of them were placed around the city.

In 1921, Selskabet for Oslo Byes Vel decided to allocate funds for the decoration of the old water basin here at Majorstuen, and a competition was announced for students in the sculpture class at the Academy. The winning design was created by Asbjørg Borgfelt (1900–1976) in collaboration with architect Trygve Nissen.

From the octagonal basin rises a slender, square column with four ram heads that spout water during the summer months. The column expands into a strict capital, then narrows into a spherical form. At the top, a bear cub clings “with chubby and clumsy grace to its sphere, peering sideways down at the jets of water”.

The fountain has stood the test of time since it was erected here in 1926. Asbjørg Borgfelt received several inquiries from Oslo municipality about moving the sculpture, but she was reluctant to do so. The work had been created with this particular place in mind. 

Over the years, it has suffered cracks and significant leakage. In 2005, the fountain was hit by a vehicle and the water supply had to be shut off, but it was restored after tireless efforts by one of the local business owners, Lars Christian Dahll, in collaboration with the Agency for Outdoor Recreation.

Previously, many people regarded the Bear Fountain as a symbol of the district. It is possible that the bear cub was chosen as a motif because Asbjørg had memories of the many circus troupes that visited the city after the First World War. A circus tent had a regular site here at Majorstuen, and several of the troupes featured balancing bears in their performances.

But the fountain has not only been a gathering point for thirsty horses. Majorstuhuset once housed an outlet of Vinmonopolet, the state alcohol retailer. Since the thirsty bohemians were not allowed to loiter outside the shop, they often gathered here instead.

And on the 17th of May, science students at the University of Oslo have had a tradition of celebrating the Bear Fountain. The patron of Realistforeningen, the science students’ association, is also a bear: “Ursus Domesticus”. In earlier years, the sculpture was honoured with a simple wreath-laying, but in more recent years the association’s leader has bathed in the fountain on Norway’s Constitution Day.