ONE afternoon last year, I found myself in a packed theatre in Bodø, Norway, watching a play — ostensibly for schoolchildren — by two women and a small orchestra mustered from above the Arctic Circle, about a king I’m not sure is historical, mythical, or a bit of both. The enthusiasm of the cast was contagious. I was quickly pulled in by the wholehearted storytelling, and began cheering along, booing and laughing, and making a mental note to look up the king on Wikipedia.
Culture, huh? It comes in all shapes and sizes.
It does you good to be exposed to something you’re not used to, or maybe have never experienced before. This is why I’d jumped on several trains and taken myself up to Bodø (Boo-duh): a large coastal town in northern Norway that happened to be one of three European Capitals of Culture last year.
The Capitals of Culture idea was spawned in 1985 by two culture ministers: Melina Mercouri, from Greece, and Jack Lang, a Frenchman. Their hope was that by having various cities organise cultural events for the whole of Europe to enjoy, a greater bond would be forged between the disparate peoples of the continent, as their understanding of what made one another tick grew more profound.
AlamyA street orchestra in Nova Gorica and Gorizia celebrates the announcement of Nova Gorica, Slovenia, and Gorizia, Italy, as joint European Capital of Culture for 2025
And Bodø did not disappoint. One day, my horizons were being broadened by a free experimental jazz quartet (I’m normally more of an ’80s indie guy) and a taster-session restaurant crawl; the next I was learning about the wonders of medieval dried cod, and the sailors who braved the tricky Norwegian coastline to trade it. I was even prodded into leaping off that coastline into the frigid waters of the Norwegian Sea, mid-sauna.
There was also an opportunity to sample the culture of the Sámi, the semi-nomadic indigenous peoples who roam across northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and the Kola Peninsula. I visited a young couple who had set up their lávvu (a Sami tent-like temporary structure) on some land just outside the town. They revealed to me a way of life I knew very little about, that is joyfully, and sometimes painfully, at odds with the modern world. It challenged me to reflect on my own way of life, and whether I had simply drifted into it unthinkingly.
In 2025, we’re offered a choice of two new European Capitals of Culture. There’s the pleasingly obscure, yet interesting, medieval city of Chemnitz. Located in what was East Germany, known as Karl-Marx-Stadt under Communism, the city could boast of being Germany’s richest city before Soviet occupation.
Near the centre, the imposing St Petrikirche has become something of a symbol of the regeneration of Chemnitz. The city was heavily bombed in 1945, and the Gothic church was hit several times. Remarkably, its tall and slender spire, though battered, remained intact, towering above the burnt-out buildings around it. When the arduous task of reconstruction began, the citizens of Chemnitz — then still under Soviet rule — looked to the church as a beacon of hope in dark and trying times.
You can learn more about St Petrikirche’s history on a guided tour (available in various languages) around its cathedral-like interior. You can also catch a choral performance, organ recital, classical-music concert, or art exhibition there (they had Chagall and Dalí last year), or attend the ecumenical prayers for peace held every Wednesday evening.
istock An aerial view of Gorizia, Italy, which is jointly hosting the European Capital of Culture for 2025 festivities with its neighbouring border town, Nova Gorica, in Slovenia
Should you fancy a double shot of European culture, you can head for Nova Gorica and Gorizia, the twin Slovenian and Italian border towns that are hosting the year’s festivities together, allowing visitors to explore the culture of both nations.
The towns themselves present an interesting history lesson. Gorizia can trace its roots back over a thousand years, and has a 14th-century cathedral (rebuilt after being damaged in the First World War) to explore. In the town centre, you can embark on a mini-pilgrimage from the cathedral, taking in the Baroque 17th-century Church of Sant’Ignazio, and finishing at the Borgo Castello’s Palatine Chapel, with its collection of art from the Venetian school.
Nova Gorica, by contrast, is a modernist planned town begun in the 1940s, after Yugoslavia lost Gorizia to Italy, when the border was redrawn in the wake of the Second World War.
The Nova Gorica/Gorizia events programme (www.go2025.eu) has recently been published. The folk at Chemnitz have stolen a march on them, though. And there’s a surprising amount of spiritual input in their programme — among the highlights are a concert of church music given by a sighted chamber orchestra and a visually impaired choir, an inspiring light-filled art installation in a tiny church, and a multiple-church exhibition of altar veils — a modern take on a local Lenten tradition dating back to the 15th century.
The organisers of the Bodø festivities put on a thousand or so Capital of Culture events in the town and surrounding county; so, if the good people of Chemnitz and Nova Gorica/Gorizia are even half as prolific, there’s bound to be something that not only entertains, or educates, but provides food for thought, as well.
And who knows? You may come home with your life changed — or, at the very least, enriched in some way. You can’t say that about every holiday.
Travel details
Chemnitz is about 11 hours by train from London via the Eurostar; Nova Gorica/Gorizia takes from 19 hours. Tickets from Interrail.eu or raileurope.com
Further Capital of Culture info (in English) from chemnitz2025.de/en/ (Chemnitz) and go2025.eu/en (Nova Gorica/Gorizia)