Faroe, briefly
Too short.
As we were passing the last cliffs after Vestmanna, heading towards Iceland, I could not help but regret that we did not have more time to explore the Faroe Islands.
We thought two weeks, including the passage to Iceland, would be plenty to get the gist of it. But the weather quickly shortened our stay. The only decent window to cross to Iceland opened after less than a week, reducing our planned eight-stop exploration to only three stops.
From the day of our very slow arrival into Tvøyrori fjord, which gave us plenty of time to appreciate the scale of Faroese scenery, the Faroe showed us how wrong we had been not to set more time aside for them.
Our first hike, on the afternoon of the arrival, took us to a mountain pass opening onto a 180-degree view over the ocean, dotted with steep islands lit by the setting sun. Going down towards the view and then following a narrow path above the sea, we arrived at a lake ringed by dark cliffs draped in green moss.
We wondered how to exit this natural amphitheatre.
On the other side of the lake, we found a narrow and steep rocky passage between two black rock walls. Only once at the top did we dare look back. Below us laid the lake, with the sea stretching behind it. The exhaustion of our passage from Shetland simply vanished.
Exploration from the sea didn’t pale in comparison.
For our passage from Torshavn to Vestmanna we had decided to take the scenic “route” around the islands rather than cutting through Vestmanna’s fjord. We left at dawn to take advantage of the strong sea currents.
I was the lucky one on watch at sunrise, with Capsula bombing through Hestfjørður, mainland to starboard, Hestur and Koltur to port, and ahead of me the snowy summits of Streymoy. I spent three hours simply focused on keeping Capsula on course and making the best of the 4 knots of current while soaking in all I could of the scenery and trying to capture the morning light in my pictures. One of these rare moments when nothing else matters.
We found in the Faroe the same care for food as in Denmark and, most importantly, the same quality of bread! The visit to the local supermarket made me feel like Charlie in the chocolate factory. I spent half an hour in front of the bread section, looking at which one the locals reached for most. In the end I left with two huge loaves (why choose when you can have it all).
Our short stay left little time to meet people and see whether the same island warmth we had loved in Orkney and Shetland existed here too. The closest we came to finding out was when we hitchhiked from Kvívík to Vestmanna after a one-way hike. We felt a bit embarrassed initially, but the next bus was more than two hours away.
So, we shook off our shyness and stuck our thumbs out. Four cars (and five minutes) passed, and we were already contemplating giving up, somehow relieved. The fifth one was the right one. The driver was a young woman from Vestmanna studying pastry-making in Copenhagen. She was coming back for the annual boat celebration. She shared her love for the Faroe, which she realized only after she left. After two years in Copenhagen, she was already planning her return, dreaming of opening a bakery in Vestmanna.
Anne, Iceland, May 2026