Hills are great on a bike when you’re going down, not so good going up. Unless, that is, you’re on the world’s first bike escalator in Trondheim that pushes riders from the city’s Old Town 130m uphill to the residential district. Yet first you have to get on it.
“Hold your right foot against the footplate; push back against it,” says Knut, who runs a local cycle guiding business. There are two speeds: Normal and Beginner. I know which I’m selecting. There are four warning beeps, then the footplate shoots out and pushes against the sole of my foot, propelling me forwards. Its momentum starts to push my leg up and forwards, along with the rest of me and my bike.
After five yards I slip off. By now there’s a crowd of Taiwanese tourists watching. It takes three more goes, but I’m going to be famous in Taiwan. I must be all over social media there to judge from the cheers and photos. I decide to sit at a café near by, watching with glee as other tourists attempt and fail to use the escalator.
Like all Scandinavian countries, Norway loves bikes; and Trondheim calls itself Norway’s cycle city. They’re busy building about 150 miles of cycle lanes, and one in five people cycles to work here.
Odd Nygard manages the escalator. He’s also on the city’s environment committee, tasked with getting more people on bikes. “We know 40,000 people get on the escalator each year,” he says. “We don’t know how many get to the top.” Although the escalator has been there since 1992, the idea hasn’t caught on elsewhere.
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Before my moment of Taiwanese stardom, I’d cycled around Trondheim with Ellen, a local guide. We pedalled past sleepy marinas, the glossy fjord sparkling in early sun. We explored an old fishing village with its rainbow of wooden cottages and crossed a burbling stream before cycling along the river and across the Old Town bridge, known locally as Lykkens Portal — the Gate of Happiness.
And it did all feel happy in the sunshine. Colourful warehouses cast reflections on the dark river, giving way to fairytale cottages and shops. The cobbled streets in the Old Town have smooth flagstone pathways just for cyclists to avoid the bone-shaking bumps. The stones have exhortations painted on them to “cycle nicely”. We lunched across the street on redfish soup and cloudberry cheesecake at Baklandet Skydsstation. This cosy café is like a film set, a warren of low-ceilinged rooms with handcrafted cushions and wall coverings.
Along with biking, Trondheim is big on bites and booze. After lunch I peddled to Austmann, a craft brewery. When Vinko opened the door, I was battered by the sound of Iron Maiden. This is guy heaven: brewing beer and rocking to heavy metal. He and two friends borrowed cash using their mothers’ houses as collateral to set up the brewery. And they’re still mummy’s boys — despite the tattoos and high-volume metal. “Dude, our bestselling beer is called Three Old Ladies in honour of our mums,” Vinko said with a smile as I quaffed a hoppy IPA called Humledugg.
I spotted more Austmann beers at Mathall after I wobbled back into town. This new shop and eatery specialises in produce from the surrounding Trondelag region. Erik, the manager, shared a tasting platter with me. We ate reindeer salami, sour cream with chive oil, cured hams and spectacular cheeses, accompanied by a wheat beer that tasted like a mouthful of flowers; all produced no more than an hour away.
Next morning I hopped on a City Bike. There’s a network of 20 bike points across the city; visitors can buy a 24-hour pass from the tourist information office. I pedalled up to the fortress on top of the hill, wishing the bike escalator concept had been adopted more widely. Then I cruised back across the Old Town bridge and went to explore the cavernous cathedral.
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Trondheim cycle paths weren’t all smooth, though. Eirik Mjoen drove me 15 minutes out of town to Bymarka, a local nature reserve of sparkling lakes and forests. Kitted out with helmet and mountain bike, I followed him at a cracking pace straight up to a viewpoint. At the top was a short, more “technical” path. It was steep and muddy.
Once I’d made it to the top, though, I was greeted by views over Trondheim and the fjord with snow-capped mountains behind. I’d have liked to stay longer, but we needed to get back for the airport bus.
We bounced between fir trees, then burst out on to the shores of a lake. I was getting the hang of the bike and loving it. When we hit tarmac again it felt odd to be pedalling along smooth cycle paths.
There was no question in my mind, the next location for a bike escalator needed to be back up to the top of that mountain.
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Jeremy Head was a guest of Best Served Scandinavia (020 7664 2241, best-served.co.uk), which has a two-night break to Trondheim from £255pp, including B&B at the Scandic Nidelven hotel and flights from Gatwick, but not transfers. Two-hour Trondheim cycle tours cost 280 krone (£25; 00 47 4525 3560, Sykkelguide.com).
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Mountain biking with Mid-Norway Adventures (00 47 9828 6070) costs from 790 krone a person (£70).
More information
Visitnorway.com