The Fabulous Faroes

It was a grey, damp, and cool day for our first stop at Vágur, a small town on the island of Suðuroy. It was typical of many of the ports that we were yet to see, with an orderly, picturesque waterfront and marina—clearly a prosperous fishing town. Comfortable, cozy, and colourful homes lined narrow streets.

As we moved up from the harbour, the houses quickly gave way to rolling green, sheep-grazed slopes; after all, the name Faeroe or Føroyar is translated as "sheep islands."

Not far outside of the town was a large aquaculture operation, a thriving industry in the Faroe Islands, where farmed fish (mainly Atlantic salmon) now represents half of the country’s exports. The industry is a major employer.

The winding road system throughout the archipelago was impressive. Around each turn, set after set of waterfalls streaming down mountainsides came into view, hundreds of them in all.

Tunnels were everywhere, too. Decades ago, the government decided to remove physical barriers (as much as possible) between the numerous communities spread over the archipelago. Until the 1970s, the only way people could travel from one place to another in much of the Faroes was by foot over high, windswept mountains or by boat.

Now bridges and tunnels provide local connection and global access. Aside from eighteen kilometres of tunnels through mountains, they also go undersea to join islands. At the time of this writing, there are more than twenty-one kilometres of subsea tunnels. Together they reduce travel time; increase mobility for people, trade, and industry; and foster a sense of cultural unity.

One of the tunnels on the western island of Vágar took us to the tiny hamlet of Gásadalur, with its famous and spectacular Mulafossur waterfall.

Also on Vágar, we walked through the ancient hillside town of Bøur with its sod-roofed houses, cozy church, and narrow streets.

Everywhere in the Faroes, sod-roofed houses—some old, some new—were a common site. They are traditionally built in layers with sloped boards at the bottom, followed by waterproof birch bark, and topped with turf, including live grasses and herbs. In the modern versions, plastic has replaced the birch bark layer.

We saw great U-shaped valleys such as this one, evidence of the work of glaciers thousands of years ago.

The old town beside the modern harbour is a both a mariner’s and photographer’s delight. Traditional and modern vessels line up before the colourful old merchant buildings.

Since around 900 CE Viking parliament met at Tinganes, on a peninsula that divides Tórshavn’s harbour into two parts. The cluster of old, red buildings there still serve as the seat of government.

Nordic House, considered one of the most beautiful public buildings in all of Scandinavia, overlooks Tórshavn. It was completed in the 1980s under the direction of Norwegian architect Ola Steen, with the aim of supporting and promoting Nordic and Faroese culture, both locally and throughout the region.

Inside Nordic House there are exhibit spaces, a café, and a magnificent, recessed amphitheatre.

Also on Streymoy, the enchanting, hillside village of Saksun is home to about fourteen residents and plenty of sheep.

Meanwhile on Eysturoy, the dramatic settlement of Gjógv, surrounded by mountains, sits beside a two-hundred-metre-long gorge thrusting inland from the open sea.

Dating from 1847, Funningur’s church is among the ten oldest in the Faroes.

With names like “The Giant and the Hag” (Risin og Kellingin in Faroese), you just know there must be a good legend to go with these rock stacks. Once upon a time, so we were told, the giants of Iceland were envious of the Faroes and wanted to claim them for themselves. So, a giant and his hag were sent to do the job.

Working through the night to avoid the sunshine, they lassoed the northernmost mountain to haul it back to Iceland on the giant's back. However, the mountain split off and the pair failed to fulfill their operation before sunrise, when the warm rays of daylight turned them to stone and fixed them in place.

Finally, as we left the Faroes, we sailed past the western cliffs of Streymoy, five hundred metres high and shrouded in cloud.

Seabirds like the northern gannet nest here and cruise the coastline on long stiff wings. This one is returning to the colony with nesting material.

As we caught the last glimpses of the cliffs before heading northwest towards our next landfall—the Westmann Islands of Iceland—I overheard many references to The Lord of the Rings in the deck chatter amongst the excited guests and staff. Indeed, this journey to the Faroes was an epic one!