How love and war helped shape a unique Liverpool community

In the heart of Liverpool's Baltic Triangle is a beautiful and unique church serving a community that has helped shape the city we know today. The Gustaf Adolf Kyrka - or the Nordic Church, as it's better known - is home to Liverpool's Scandinavian community.

The first Scandinavian settlers came to the banks of the Mersey in the 9th century, and as Liverpool developed as a major global port, seafarers from Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland and Iceland made it their home.

Their influence can be felt all over Merseyside - from the Scouse accent, to our favourite food. We even owe the term 'scouse' itself to Scandinavia. The name of our region's most famous dish comes from a shortened form of 'lobscouse', a Scandinavian sailors' dish from the 18th century.

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Behind the imposing red brick exterior of the Nordic Church on Park Lane lies a simple yet stunning chapel, designed to look like the interior of a ship. The church used to cater to around 10,000 Scandinavian seamen as a place of worship and sanctuary. It was also used by thousands of emigrants from Scandinavian countries as they made their way to America.

Today, Merseyside's Scandinavian congregation is significantly smaller. The church can count on between 12 and 15 people attending the weekly Sunday service, which is delivered by a Latvian Lutheran minister who travels up from London.

But the building is also home to a vibrant community of Nordic people who have either chosen to make Merseyside their home, or who are proud descendants of Nordic immigrants. When the ECHO visited the building earlier this week, it was a hive of activity, with people chatting away in Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish and Icelandic, and tucking into Swedish-style open sandwiches and cake.

Many people we spoke to came here for work, but stayed for love. One such romantic is Iceland-born Ulfar Norddahl, 76. Speaking to the ECHO, Ulfar said: "I came here in 1966 as a trainee shipbroker on Water Street, then went to Liverpool John Moores University to study English. All the foreign students were invited to the Royal Sutton Hospital for the nurses' dance, and that's where I met my wife Susan.

"She was a staff nurse in Halton General and taught in the Royal Sutton. She was very forward, like a Liverpool girl. She said, 'do you play tennis?' and I said no. Then she said, 'would you like me to teach you?' So she took control immediately! She looked like a young Sophia Loren."

Liverpool-born Gladys Bakken, 83, was on the receiving end of Nordic affection. She met her Norwegian husband Arnfinn in the All Nations Club on Parliament Street in the 1960s. She said: "He asked me did I want a drink, and 10 minutes later, he said, 'will you marry me?' So I said yes, and we got married 12 months later."

Settling in Norris Green, Gladys and Arnfinn were together for 52-and-a-half years before Arnfinn's death in 2016. Despite not speaking much Norwegian, Gladys continues to come to the community centre as a way of staying close to her husband's roots.

Gladys continued: "I used to have Norwegian lessons off my husband - it was in bed! He'd say, come on then, Glad, I'll teach you some Norwegian. We used to do days of the week and numbers - things like that. He was always saying, 'WRONG! Wrong again!' over my pronunciation. I think the people outside could hear him shouting it. In the end, I gave up. It was too hard."

According to Gladys, her husband was so much a part of the local community, people didn't realise he was Norwegian. She said: "With him being here so long, people used to say, he's not Norwegian, he's a Scouser. No one could fault him. All his workmates called him Steve because they couldn't say Arnfinn."

Other people we spoke to at the church were descendants of Nordic sailors. Doreen Johansen's dad Reinhart came here during the second world war, and married her mum in 1944. Doreen's dad was part of a huge influx of Norwegian sailors who arrived on Merseyside in the 1940s.

When Norway was occupied by the Nazis, the Norwegian government-in-exile put more than 1,000 vessels at the disposal of the allies. Stan Royden, 79, who is chairman of the Nordic Church Council explained: "All seafarers around the globe advanced to the nearest allied ports. Many came to Liverpool - and many married local girls."

After the war, the Norwegian sailors who decided to stay in Liverpool founded a church on Southwood Road in Aigburth, and fitted it with wooden panelling taken from Norwegian sailing ships. The Norwegian Church promised to fund it until the last war veteran died. But in 1992, Norway removed its funding, and the Norwegian community had to go it alone. That year, the Aigburth church closed, and they moved into the Nordic Church - which was then known as the Swedish Church.

Norwegian-born Margaret Vilano, who has been a member of the Norwegian congregation for over 40 years, explained: "There were less and less seamen coming ashore - they didn't need to come ashore anymore. So the Norwegian church closed. This [the Nordic Church] is really the Swedish church. Eventually, we all came here - the Norwegians, the Danish, the Finns, Icelandics."

By some accounts, it wasn't an easy move, in part because of a complex wartime legacy between Norway and Sweden "There's always been something between the Norwegians and the Swedes," joked Margaret. "Sweden was neutral, and the Norwegians didn't like that. Some of the Norwegians stayed away as well because it was a Swedish church."

Now, although there is gentle teasing between the different nationalities, they all seem to get on like a house on fire. One lady, who didn't want to be named, said: "We're a community of all the Scandinavian countries. We all get on, and we've learned so much about each other's cultures."

Whatever their reasons for staying on in Merseyside, everyone we spoke to this week has made a home for themselves here - even if they experienced a culture shock at first. Kicki Eriksson-Lee came to Liverpool from Sweden in the early 1980s after meeting her British husband in a blues pub in Stockholm, and has lived in Birkenhead since 1981.

Kicki told the ECHO: "I was so homesick when I first arrived. In fact I was probably homesick for the first 30 years or so. But now I'm used to being here. After 44 years in the UK, I probably know more about the UK than I do about Sweden. Sweden has really changed beyond all recognition for me now.

"When I first arrived, I remember being taken aback by the fact that women went around with curlers in their hair in the street. It was a big culture shock for me I think. But I loved how friendly everyone was - much friendlier than Stockholm, I'd say. Half of my heart belongs in Sweden and half here."

Not so long ago, the church's very survival was in doubt. In 2008, it was nearly turned into luxury flats, before being saved by a legal clause that stopped its sale to developers. Today, it is looked after by a full-time custodian named Ole Stokke, who came to Liverpool from Sweden with two suitcases in tow 13 years ago following the death of his wife. The church is entirely self-funded, and for these past few years, church leaders have been raising money in new and ingenious ways, including through a bed and breakfast service catering to football fans.

Liverpool and Everton fans from across Scandinavia can come and stay with Ole in the church for just £25, enjoying a hearty Swedish breakfast before heading to the match. If they are anything like their forebears, they might be tempted to stay here a good while longer.