Rustic shelves, copper lamps, little potted succulents on each wooden table, sea-green trays filled with frosted cakes under glass domes and soft pillows. The barista was humming a tune, quite passionately, behind the bar.

I ordered my staple; Cappuccino and cake, sank down in a corner-chair, en let myself drift off into my own memories, as the barista continued composing his tune to the hissing of the steaming Marzocco:

Once in kindergarten we went into the forest. When we got to our usual play-spot, on a tree-clad little hill, someone was already there: An old lady, dressed in rags, with big black frizzy hair. She laughed as she saw us and waved us closer. We were just in time, she said, "Hurry now! Gather moss for me, all the moss you can find, so I can make my magical food". We scampered about the hill, ripping up moss and dirt, chubby legs tripping over by effort and excitement, and placed it all in her big bowl. She mixed and huffed and said spell words before locking eyes with each of us. "Close your eyes", she whispered, "close them hard and wish for something sweet". I saw stars when I opened my eyes, and in front of us, on a bed of moss, laid diamond shaped pieces of bright green cake. Moss cake! Never had I tasted something that magical.

Not until I tried the Macha brownies at Kaf Kafé. Maybe the same witch works in their kitchen? The Cappuccino was also great, silky smooth and well balanced.

I returned, only to discover it was gone! Replaced by a wooden door so inconspicuous it had me wondering if I was in the wrong alleyway. No name on the door, no windows. I couldn’t get in. This was truly the secret garden. The path to The Labyrinth. The entrance to the Room of Requirement. Gone as soon as it came…

At the time it wasn't on any map either. Safe to say I’ve been by a few times since, and happy to report it’s now buzzing with visitors and thriving in it’s tucked away corner of Bryggen.

Final verdict: 5/5 — Kaf Kafé is a gem. Take good care of it, Bergen.