For my last and final day in the Faroe Islands, I finally partook in the “See Everything” tour. This tour essentially highlights the geographic wonders of the so-called Southern Isles and is by far the most popular tour offered on the islands. It covers ~175 miles in a day, across the three “main” islands of Streymoy (home to the capital, Tórshavn), Eysturoy and Vágar (where the airport is).

Over the course of the day, we primarily visited gorgeous geographic sites, but did stop in a few small villages as well.

As we set out from Tórshavn, our guide, Elsa Maria, introduced herself by pointing to a large yellow house (where she was born!) and one of the newer hotels (her family farm – as she said, “This is life”). I really enjoyed learning Elsa’s stories of change on the islands in the past ~65 years – she is old school Faroese and over the course of the tour pointed out multiple properties across the island where her grandparents and great-grandparents were born, died, held parties, and enjoyed visiting their friends and family, often with her in tow. I also appreciated that she provided a straightforward, yet approachable, perspective on Faroese history and culture.

As with all the Faroese, she was warm and inviting, but also slightly terse and extremely straightforward. To give some insight, the following quips made me laugh:

• “Don’t look like a nun!” (to a group member posing for a photo near a waterfall)
• “Toilets grow on trees in the Faroes” (the group looks around at the barren, treeless landscape) and after a beat… “Yes, there are no toilets, so use them when I bring you to them”
• When a Chinese member of our group asked what blubber was, Elsa silently lifted the bottom of her shirt and pointed to her (very minimal) stomach fat
• When honking at the various tourists driving on the one-lane roads, “Yes, I am rude. But this is my land and they are driving slowly” (and when asked what would happen if we encountered oncoming traffic: “We reverse.”)

First up, we headed northward on Esyturoy, going through the famed Roundabout tunnel again. The intial views are of Gongutúrur, which is stunning.

Up first, we visited the beautiful village of Gjógv, which has incredible cliff views (and we were able to see a few puffins flying!). Elsa agreed that the puffins are delicious, but felt Hans (and she did know of him!) was being indulgent by eating 3+ for a meal! She also shared that the puffins can actually dive in the water up to 100+ meters (roughly 300 feet).

The village is small, but has a fascinating ramp where a pulley system was used to haul up fish back when it was used as a fishing village. There was also a lovely rhubarb garden.

Next, we stopped at the Risin og Kellingin (“the Giant and the Witch”) viewpoint. As the story goes, Iceland was jealous of the Faroes. So, the Giant and the Witch (or his “wife” depending on who tells the story) were sent to bring them back to Iceland. The mountains failed to yield to their efforts, and over time, the sun began to rise. As the morning rose and the sun struck the Giant and the Witch, they got stuck and turned to stone. They definitely make a striking landmark!

We then continued on to the village of Tjørnuvík, making our way through the incredible geography. Amazingly, there is an old soccer field down below! Over the years, they “discovered” that it was quite difficult to retrieve the balls once they went out of bounds, so they’ve now resituated the main field and this is used for youth sports and the like.

Somewhere along the way, we crossed the “first” bridge across the Atlantic Ocean, which incidentally opened on the same day in 1972 as the famous bridge across the Bosphorus in Istanbul, Turkey. You can see how quickly the weather changes from the photos!

Tjørnuvík is the northernmost village on Streymoy, with ~71 people. It has a lovely black sand beach (from the volcanic rock) and is famous for being the place with the oldest graves discovered in the Faroe Islands. Apparently, the original graves discovered dated from the ~950s, and were clearly Pagan as they were buried facing the village (while Christians are buried facing East, as that’s the direction the Faroese believe Christ will return from on “Judgement Day”). From a historic perspective, this makes sense – Christianity is known to have come to the Faroes in 999 CE. However, even earlier skeletons were later found, this time dating back to ~650 or so. These skeletons included clearly Christian artifacts, which has caused the Faroese to begin an exploration of whether or not conversation happened (either from an individual or more commonplace perspective) earlier than previously understood.

As we continued our journey, we passed several lovely waterfalls (fossá).

From there, we traversed a gorgeous valley on our way to the old farm at Saksun. This location used to be an inlet on the Atlantic Ocean with a deep natural harbor, frequently visited by Turkish pirates. However, a storm filled the harbor with a significant amount of sand, causing a major shipwreck the tried to seek shelter there in the mid-1650s (the artifacts of which I saw during in the National Museum). The village today includes a lovely “heritage farm” called Dúvugarðar, as well as the original Tjørnuvík church, which was disassembled and carried over the mountains in 1858.

Today, the village is occupied by the family that still owns the farmhouse and actively farms the land – in fact, it’s one of the largest farms remaining today in the Faroes, with ~700 sheep. They’ve begun restoring the old farmhouse to the ~18^th century standards and have opened a small museum. Amusingly, they’re not shy about asking people to respect their land and have been known to shoot down drones used by photographers above their property. I, for one, am in favor of this practice – according to both Hans and Elsa, the drones disrupt bird habitats and have caused significant degradation of the natural life on the islands, which is so irresponsible and unnecessary.

The church at Saksun is incredibly special, with a turf roof and impressive vista across the mountains and to the harbor. The cemetery was haunting – I can’t imagine a more beautiful final resting place.

From there, we continued to drive the countryside, although most of our pull offs were small villages, including Hvalvík and Hósvik.

We then visited Sandavagúr, where we stopped for lunch at a gorgeous restaurant owned by the owner of one of the salmon companies. The restaurant, Fiskastykkið,  specializes in bacalao, or salt cod. Apparently, the Faroese bacalao is so popular that it’s exported to Portugal and Spain to be used in their Michelin starred restaurants – after tasting it, I can absolutely see why! I had the bacalao salad as well as the rhubarb juice, which was tangy and sweet.

Amusingly, the country is so small that I recognized several other travelers from my flight from Reykjavík in the restaurant (and same thing in the airport on my flight out – other folks in my group would wave to fellow travelers as we made different stops, which also made me smile).

Over the course of our drive, Elsa shared many facts with us, both about life in the Faroes and different traditions and cultural norms. The following are just small anecdotes:

• When Elsa was growing up in the ~’60s and ‘70s, the country was primarily dirt roads and ferries were used to connect the islands both to each other and with Iceland and Denmark; today, the tunnels have made connections much, much easier and some villagers are actually moving back to their ancestral villages
• As part of the kingdom of Denmark, the Faroese have the option of either using a Faroese or a Danish passport; Elsa is a true Faroese through and through and has the Faroese passport, while her husband and children opted for the Danish. Because Denmark is in the EU but the Faroes are not, they have to wait for her to clear the “other” passport line every time – talk about commitment to your culture!
• The airport was built by the British during WWII and strategically located because of the “lake above the ocean” (which truly is a freshwater lake, which from the right vantage point, appears to be situated above the Atlantic Ocean). The British primarily used sea planes in the Faroes at that time, making it a strategic and protected place to base air operations
• Over the years, the airport has been lengthened to accommodate larger jets; Elsa remembers the former runway of yesteryear without fondness, going as far as to say that she used to have to be drunk for the flight home from Copenhagen as the landings were so scary (and multiple landing attempts were more commonplace than not!). Even today, I have to say the runway itself is among the bumpiest I’ve encountered, before you even get airborne!
• The British are also responsible for the use of the Faroese flag; apparently, during WWII, they threated to shoot down any planes flying under the Danish flag. Because the Faroese had their own flag, Faroese planes were instructed to use it – and therefore, the flag became legitimized
• The Faroese language similarly was quashed by the Danish until the mid-‘70s, when a group of Faroese students protested by requesting to take their final school exams in Faroese. Since there were no proctors who could administer the exams in the language, they weren’t able to graduate; however, this did cause a change and today Faroese students can choose which language they’d like to do their exams in
• Before this, Danish was the formal language of the Faroes and used as a colonial force, although younger generations learned Faroese from their elders while fishing and working on farms
• As an example of the colonial influence of language, in a heart-wrenching anecdote, Elsa shared that her grandmother was taught that God wouldn’t understand prayers said in Faroese (only Danish)
• Alcohol used to be a big problem for the Faroe Islands in the late 1800s and early 1900s; so much so that the Faroese (including women, who were allowed to vote!) voted to implement a full prohibition, lasting until the 1970s. Until then, the Faroese would have to import hard alcohol from Denmark (not cheap or easy) and apparently, men would wait by the ferry docks and later airport to see who had the signature white box among their inbound cargo and then would attempt to get an invite for the party that weekend from the importing family!
• Similarly, alcohol wasn’t allowed to be served in restaurants – Elsa joked that you’d only be offered water or milk (“not sexy for a date night!”). You could bring a bottle of wine, but then you’d have to be seated in a different, private dining area

Since Elsa’s family historically farmed rather than fished, we also learned some interesting facts about Faroese agriculture. These included:

• The sheep are all privately owned and each receives an ear brand, based on the farmer
• Typically, each ewe (female sheep) will be raised until it’s about 8 before slaughter; rams are kept in groups and allowed to visit the ewes once a year for breeding purposes
• There are many different colors and variations in the pattern of sheep on the islands, but they’re all from ~1-2 breeds and similarly resilient (Elsa did say, however, that she would not want to be reincarnated as a Faroese sheep, as life is hard for them)
• We passed a “dalmatian” sheep (their coloring looks like Dalmatian dogs, with cute little booties and ‘kneepads’)
• They live outdoors year round, until most other similar climates – some fields do have shelters, but Elsa’s perspective was that if you don’t know what you’re missing, “that’s just life for you”
• The sheep will often “self-shear” if the weather is unseasonably warm, and in some cases will need shearing by a farmer (we saw many half-self-shorn sheep and they looked somewhat horrifying from a distance despite being healthy; Elsa joked that their appearance is partially responsible for some of the superstitions on the islands – what if you were half-drunk and came across that sight in the fog?!)
• The Faroese horse is quite endangered and was down to only 7-8 remaining after they were sold to Scotting coal mines (“where they met their deaths”); today, an effort is being made to replenish the Faroese horse population and they are now up to 83 and hoping to reach 85 later this year

One of the most interesting things she shared with us was a deep dive on the Faroese perspective on grindráp, otherwise known as the controversial annual whale hunt. Please be warned the following section is graphic – and these views reflect what Elsa shared with us, as best as I captured them. Any mistakes are mine, as with all these anecdotes.

According to Elsa, the whale hunt in fact, is not an annual tradition, but rather occurs when “necessary” for food and, at one point, they didn’t hunt for 14 years. However, traditionally, the hunt would have occurred annually or even more frequently, as the Faroese only have what they can grow, raise, or fish. Today, they obviously have imported foods – but, even now, there can be strikes and weather conditions that make it difficult for the Faroese to get fresh goods. This leads to the controversy – is it actually necessary to hunt these animals today, given the extreme increase in food availability? Our entire group, myself included, agreed (while Elsa was outside the van) that while we respect the cultural importance, there must be a better way to celebrate this traditional in modern times without needless slaughter.

However, she shared many compelling insights:

• This hunt was a primary food source for the long winters of yore here; whale blubber is extremely calorie dense (~800 calories per gram!) and keeps quite well
• Historically, the hunt has targeted pilot whales (much smaller than the ‘blue whales’ or ‘humpback whales’ a North American audience may be picturing) and used small boats (~20 foot sailing ships) for the hunt. Because these boats are so small, the goal was in fact to force the whales towards the shore, where they’d be caught in nets and stabbed with harpoons and other weapons until deceased
• These hunts were bloody, as you can expect – Elsa remembers one from her childhood of which she frankly stated, “there was so much blood”
• The primary controversy today stems from the fact that these hunting methods are necessarily imprecise and unfortunately lead to other forms of sea life dying – in a hunt recently, approximately 14,000 animals (including bottlenose dolphins) died
• Today, the Faroese have updated their methodology slightly; they have developed weapons which enter the blowhole to prevent breathing and then kill the animal in one motion and a certificate is needed to perform this “honor” (and they do see it as an honor)
• To receive any whale meat or blubber, one must participate in the hunt and be Faroese; if you do not participate in the hunt, you are not allocated any part of the share (the implication here is also that if you don’t participate, you can’t purchase any, even if you’re Faroese)
• As a result of these rules, it is impossible for tourists to try whale – although, apparently, one enterprising Faroese did realize via a loophole that, if their share is there’s to do with what they like, they could sell a portion of their share at the grocery store at the SMS mall. This has caused significant controversy (and led to fears that the ritual could become commercialized, which I think everyone acknowledged would really take this from a problematic living cultural tradition to a horrifying slaughter)
• During this past year’s hunt, Elsa’s brother participated and his allocation was ~200kg
• The Faroese eat the whale in a couple ways. The whale skin is dried and apparently is delicious, tasting like the ocean, with a very briny, slightly salty taste. It’s typically eaten either alone, or on boiled potatoes with a very thin layer of blubber (almost like butter) – best served up with a shot of Faroese aquavít (herbal liquor)

After this, I’ll admit the group was pretty somber for the next several miles of the drive. Fortunately, the landscape gave us a bit to look at!

The village of Bøur was also incredibly beautiful, like something out of a fairytale!

Of course, no trip to the Faroe Islands would be complete without a trip to Gasadalur, which is home to the incredibly stunning Skarðsáfossur. Above the waterfall, you can see the land used to grow the ingredients for the Faroese Mikkeller beer.

On the way back to Tórshavn, we passed through “fog valley” – you can tell why it’s called that! Elsa pointed out that you can understand why the Faroese would have legends about trolls given the look of rocks and cairns in the fog! She also mentioned that the Faroese guidance is essentially that you should always be able to spot a cairn in the distance between villages – if it’s too foggy, stay put; this is also why they discourage tourists from making any new cairns.

Once we returned back to Tórshavn, I headed to my final dinner in town: Roks, the famed seafood sister of formerly Michelin-starred Coks, which has a meat focus. Interestingly, it seems that all the “fine dining” restaurants here are connected somehow; one of my waitresses was quite literally the same one who served me at Ræst, despite them being entirely different restaurants (and despite having completely different levels of service / attire). I suspected that Tórshavn might have some kind of rotating staff when I tried walking in to a couple restaurants on my first night – Áarstova didn’t have availability, but the same host gave me a knowing smile when I walked into an entirely different restaurant in a completely “different” building and they seated me at Katrina Christiansen. I suppose for locals, it makes sense to be employed by multiple restaurants if you want to be “full time” since most restaurants are only open for a rotating ~3-4 nights a week.

Roks was significantly more casual than Ræst (the bar was set a little too high!), but the seafood was incredibly good and similarly creative (it was unclear if the head chef is the same as well, since there were some creative twists).

I enjoyed:

• The Roks signature cocktail, which was an intriguing mix of vanilla, raspberry beer, and some kind of citrus
• A delicious uni bite on the famed rye bread
• A scallop with a vanilla foam
• Delicious fried cod with chimichurri and some type of roe (this was among my favorites!)
• Fresh langostine with a spicy, soy-based dipping sauce
• Lightly torched salmon with a cucumber sorbet and leeks (extremely delicious!)
• Greenland crab, which is the signature dish and served with a charred onion sauce and homemade brioche bread; while the crab itself was delicious, cracking and picking it at the table left something to be desired from an experience perspective
• Steamed mussels with ‘nduja and lemongrass sauce (also delicious!)
• Their take on “sushi” with both fermented and smoked mackerel
• Some type of white fish with a buttery puree
• Lemon gelato with their house made vermouth (I couldn’t really taste the vermouth, but the gelato was delicious)
• Basque-style cheesecake made with Danish cheeses and a bitter chocolate ice cream – oddly, the cheesecake wasn’t very successful in my opinion, but I did like the ice cream

One of the waitresses was attempting to expand her English vocabulary for descriptions, so I taught her the word “cloudy” for wine that isn’t crystal clear. She immediately added a Faroese spin and called it “foggy” which I thought was a fun twist.

As I write this, I’m headed back to London for my return flight to US after a wonderful week in the Faroes. Reflecting on my time there, I’m continually impressed with the resilience and heartiness of the Faroese people – and with the Nordic emphasis on collectivism. I flew SAS and their flight to Norway had been cancelled – not only did they manage to get the entire flight rebooked onto our aircraft, they seated those of us with tight connections (mine was only 17 minutes!) at the very front of the plane. I did scare the immigration officer in Copenhagen with how out of breath I was running to make my connection, but I made it!