This is the port in Torshvan at about seven in the morning the day I arrived. The white ship in the backround is the element-defying vessel that brought me these remote Viking islands- The Faroes.
2. At the center of town there is the park with sculptures, boulders, trees, and a stream. I spent a good chunk of time getting lost in it.
3.Ducks enjoyed the many levels of stream leading away from a pond at the park's center. They often seemed to be taking their
naps right at the edge of a miniature waterfall.
There were many "cans" or as I know them, "rock towers". They gradually rise whenever a passersby feels inspired to leave a thought or an act behind. I did my part, placing a stone on every tower I passed for all the people in my life who are dear and to whom I am eternally grateful. If you are reading this, I definitely placed a rock and a loving thought down for you. (I was quite thorough). It was a great way to move from tower to tower-floating through loving thoughts as I squelched along.
In October on the Faroe Islands, night fall is around Five oclock. Luckily I made it off the path and was walking on the road by then. The "town" I had made my way to was only a scattered twenty or so grass-covered houses and a church. I didn`t see and buses coming. It was dark and the wind was hurling heavy rain. I had slipped on some mud/ manure(?) so I was already a bit of a wet mess. Really needing for some driver to respond to my raised thumb, three cars passed me unheedingly. The fourth stopped. Young people. Three siblings college to middle shool aged on their way to a family dinner. I asked about the island life and they said that almost everyone knows everybody else (at least by face). The whole country (self-governing apart from Denmark) has only 45,000 people. The three seemed impressed and intrigued to hear that I was from the states. Only a minute or so later did the tenth-grader ask if I was headed back for the election. I told of the absentee ballot system, and they said that there was a similar system for fisherman who couldn`t be at the polls for their elections. I wasn`t expecting people from such a tiny, remote place on earth to be so knowldgeable of politics and world events. I couldn`t have been more wrong. The tenth-grader explained that the islands are so small that there isn`t anything really worth covering for a local paper and everyone reads the international ones. Also he told that since the Faroes are so small compared to all the superpowers of the world and still quite affected by their decisions, they pay extra close attention to how the global political winds blow. I could feel my popularity climb as I said that Obama is our only real hope...the only man for the job running for the job.
I loved listening to and learning from such intelligent young adults. Not that I am no longer one myself.
But seriously, why do Americans still elect assenine and morally corrupt leaders? I can`t reason it out. Forgive it out.
Surprisingly, vegetarianism is cheap here-if you do your own shopping. Fruits and veggies are definitely the cheapest stuff at the market. Brie was also the cheapest cheese, wierd.
Apparently at 8:30 last night, my body was so sore (from hiking and slipping in converse) and spent that I had to sleep. Of course, I woke up at six to lie thinking and read a bit. Breakfast opens at the hostel at 8. So finally when my watch read 8:15, I made my way to the other building where a pretty eatery with crisp pine tables and orchids is clear through large windows.
The owner and his wife were dining. Awkward, I thought. They seemed startled to see me and spoke to eachother confusedly in Faroese. Eventually, they asked if I in fact hadn`t eaten already as breakfast had finished fifteen minutes before. The time was 9:45. Turns out that my watch is messed up. I explained that I must still be on Norwegian time (an hour later) but now I realize that that doesn`t even make sense. I am going to have to set my camera or something if I am to make it anywhere on time. They were graceous, though, and allowed me to eat and drink at my own pace.
The sun is shining. Weather is definitely a moment-to-moment occurence here. I`m sure all the local meterologists go insane because they can`t ever get it right. Either that or they tell everyone over the one radio station to "SEE FOR YOURSELVES". I`ve got to catch a bus for some more hiking.
Much love to everyone!!
Dwell well!
4.The first hour of a hike to a town on the other side of the island. The picture looks down at Torshvan. You can see the
farm just before which was a marker of how to find the path. It was a loooong incline...
5. In this sea of rocks and stones, I
needed to keep eyes peeled for particularly man-made-looking piles. This area was especially vague.
6. Upon rounding the noll..... The rough green coat of moss and scrub seemed to go on and on considering the undersized presence of the island.
7. The Rams and Sheep weren't too thrilled by the intrusion. In one village I walked by a cart full of their carcasses. It was quite a surprise at the time.
8.Lots of hardened lava-walls littering the basalt slopes. That is about all I can gather from the geological surveys I tried deciphering.
9.Throne? Toilet? Fire Pit? Wind Shelter? Sheep Spectator Seat? Execution Chair? All of the above?
10.That's where the deceased are said to go to rest.
Just kidding, but, hey, could be nice.
10.A series of rock towers ("cans") leads through the
desert of turf and cloud. I put a bunch of rocks down for everyone. Explained below.
11. This photo was taken just before I started running away from that rain cloud.
12. wait for me sun! Entrancing, though.
13. The next day on a different set of slopes. I took a bus to get there, but the rock-towers were no where to be found. The fog drove me back down eventually.
Saw a number of huge Mountain Hares- and sheep of course. The hares are the size of a small dog. Could kick a bunnie's cotton-tailed butt.
This would be a really harsh place to endure for the Winter months. It just seems to bare and open. The wind is
scalding, Fog thick, and the rain throws fits down sporadically throughout the day. Vikings were made of tough stuff!
It all started Saturday afternoon. I was looking for national parks an
d interesting geographical areas in Norway on the computer. Nicholai would be leaving with the orchestra the following day for a week, and he is not the only one who likes to get around. So, as I zoomed out on the google satellite map, I spotted what looked like a tiny cluster of islands alone in the atlantic between Norway and Iceland. At that moment, Nich came up behind me to ask what I was looking at. The moment he realized, he said quite excite
dly, "That`s where you should go-to the Faroe Islands! There is even a boat that leaves from Bergen."
I had wanted to have some kind of oceanic experience so badly I had been considering offering labor to one of the small fishing boats in the port if they would have me out. The Faroe Island sh
ip (which continues all the way to Iceland) was leaving on Sunday. I was able to walk Nich to his bus, then get on my ship. Perfect.
Of the many special thoughts and observations of the voyage, one would be the comic execution of showering in a rolling and rocking ship. Not only is it incredible to be so very far from a landmass on the ocean in a manmade floating piece of metal, Not slipping in the shower is hard enough without it jumping and pitching underneath oneself. Being surrounded by many kilometers of freezing salt water but having the the luxury of a steaming hot, salt-free shower....It all struck me as incredible. I`d never taken a nice hot shower on a ship in the ocean before.
Of the many special thoughts and observations of the voyage, one would be the comic execution of showering in a rolling and rocking ship. Not only is it incredible to be so very far from a landmass on the ocean in a manmade floating piece of metal, Not slipping in the shower is hard enough without it jumping and pitching underneath oneself. Being surrounded by many kilometers of freezing salt water but having the the luxury of a steaming hot, salt-free shower....It all struck me as incredible. I`d never taken a nice hot shower on a ship in the ocean before.
Torshvan is where I kept a room. The boat unloaded us there at 6:15 this morning. Nothing was even open yet, but I walked around long enough to find the hostel (where I still had to make a reservation) and a tourist information center. The woman there (when they opened) helped me to plan out a day`s hike and book a room at the hostel. I walked around a bit looking for the road out of town, but eventually found myself following a stream into a park at the middle. There were rolling hills of grass and boulders, evergreens and birch. A pond at the center hosted some thirty ducks (one type of which was so unique and unfamiliar to me). I will look it up when I have more than 15 minutes at the library computer. There was also one mammoth swan. Every few minutes people would come and tear whole loaves of bread into pieces for the lucky birds. The town pets.
After having some chips with two Germans and a Frenchman headed to Iceland, I made my way along the main road to one edge of the city. There was a footpath (barely) leading away from the road and up over the basalt slopes. It was basically a legal way of cutting through a dozen different rocky pastures to make a two-hour hike to the town of Kirkjubø. The wind was incredible. It was so ghusty, forcing its way over an unyielding landscape of rocks and turf. The hike, which I started at two, took me until five. Tentative showers passed over at times. Sheep and rams stared me down for minutes before clomping off of the path. The view was spectacular. The Faroe Isalnds are grouped in linear strips. My view showed one island boasting a very pointed mountain with well-bowed slopes. Glaciers....
There were many "cans" or as I know them, "rock towers". They gradually rise whenever a passersby feels inspired to leave a thought or an act behind. I did my part, placing a stone on every tower I passed for all the people in my life who are dear and to whom I am eternally grateful. If you are reading this, I definitely placed a rock and a loving thought down for you. (I was quite thorough). It was a great way to move from tower to tower-floating through loving thoughts as I squelched along.
In October on the Faroe Islands, night fall is around Five oclock. Luckily I made it off the path and was walking on the road by then. The "town" I had made my way to was only a scattered twenty or so grass-covered houses and a church. I didn`t see and buses coming. It was dark and the wind was hurling heavy rain. I had slipped on some mud/ manure(?) so I was already a bit of a wet mess. Really needing for some driver to respond to my raised thumb, three cars passed me unheedingly. The fourth stopped. Young people. Three siblings college to middle shool aged on their way to a family dinner. I asked about the island life and they said that almost everyone knows everybody else (at least by face). The whole country (self-governing apart from Denmark) has only 45,000 people. The three seemed impressed and intrigued to hear that I was from the states. Only a minute or so later did the tenth-grader ask if I was headed back for the election. I told of the absentee ballot system, and they said that there was a similar system for fisherman who couldn`t be at the polls for their elections. I wasn`t expecting people from such a tiny, remote place on earth to be so knowldgeable of politics and world events. I couldn`t have been more wrong. The tenth-grader explained that the islands are so small that there isn`t anything really worth covering for a local paper and everyone reads the international ones. Also he told that since the Faroes are so small compared to all the superpowers of the world and still quite affected by their decisions, they pay extra close attention to how the global political winds blow. I could feel my popularity climb as I said that Obama is our only real hope...the only man for the job running for the job.
I loved listening to and learning from such intelligent young adults. Not that I am no longer one myself.
But seriously, why do Americans still elect assenine and morally corrupt leaders? I can`t reason it out. Forgive it out.
Surprisingly, vegetarianism is cheap here-if you do your own shopping. Fruits and veggies are definitely the cheapest stuff at the market. Brie was also the cheapest cheese, wierd.
Apparently at 8:30 last night, my body was so sore (from hiking and slipping in converse) and spent that I had to sleep. Of course, I woke up at six to lie thinking and read a bit. Breakfast opens at the hostel at 8. So finally when my watch read 8:15, I made my way to the other building where a pretty eatery with crisp pine tables and orchids is clear through large windows.
The owner and his wife were dining. Awkward, I thought. They seemed startled to see me and spoke to eachother confusedly in Faroese. Eventually, they asked if I in fact hadn`t eaten already as breakfast had finished fifteen minutes before. The time was 9:45. Turns out that my watch is messed up. I explained that I must still be on Norwegian time (an hour later) but now I realize that that doesn`t even make sense. I am going to have to set my camera or something if I am to make it anywhere on time. They were graceous, though, and allowed me to eat and drink at my own pace.
The sun is shining. Weather is definitely a moment-to-moment occurence here. I`m sure all the local meterologists go insane because they can`t ever get it right. Either that or they tell everyone over the one radio station to "SEE FOR YOURSELVES". I`ve got to catch a bus for some more hiking.
Much love to everyone!!
Dwell well!
4 comments:
I am so puffed up puffin proud and so jealous -simultaneously. But I can deal with that sort of conflict. I look forward to the pics and of course, lots more stories. Try to stay dry. (always concluding with motherly advice :-)
xmomx
I guess the village you visited is Kirkjubø?
I'm impressed that you've crossed the mountain in the wind and rain :-)
By the way, the bus can only be requested to Kirkjubø by phone.
Please be careful on those slippery slopes. There have been two fatal accidents this month in the Faroese mountains.
And yes, the islands are sculptured by glaciers from the last ice age. For more information on the subject please see this field guide (1.8 mb pdf file).
Thank you, labrat!
yo this is your brother,just wanted to tell you that I read your blog.It was cool to know what your up to.I love you and I'l talk to you soon
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