The Faroe Islands hold a special place in my heart—a sentiment that dates back to my first visit in 2011, and even earlier, to 2008, when I first stumbled upon this captivating archipelago. It’s a connection that’s hard to articulate, an inexplicable bond with this remote island nation.
My initial introduction to the Faroes came courtesy of the BBC documentary *Coast*, featuring presenters Nick Crane and Neil Oliver. For the first time in the show’s history, the team set foot beyond the shores of the United Kingdom, exploring this enchanting territory. Intrigued, I delved deeper, conducting my own research online.
As I scoured the internet, I discovered an array of titles available on Amazon—far more now than in those early days. I also reached out to people on the now-defunct Myspace, where I forged a friendship with a woman named Susan. Though we had never met in person, she became a vital source of information about the Faroes, enriching my understanding of its culture, cuisine, and history through our regular exchanges.
Fast forward to 2011: I found myself working in a hotel in Birmingham, England, when I broached the idea of visiting the Faroe Islands to a friend. Having hiked in Iceland together the previous year, I knew he would be intrigued.
Initially, he was unfamiliar with the Faroes, save for occasional mentions in football broadcasts. I urged him to take an information brochure I had found online, and soon enough, he was enthusiastic about the summer getaway. We organized our stay in a hostel in central Tórshavn for nine nights, ten days, and booked our flights from London Gatwick, complete with a night at an airport hotel. Airports have always energized me, a thrill that undeniably stems from my childhood.
On the day of our departure, we heaved our hefty hiking backpacks onto the train from Birmingham to London Gatwick and settled into our hotel. The real adventure awaited us the following morning.
The next morning, we checked out after breakfast and hopped on the shuttle to Gatwick, only to be met with the disappointing news: our flight to the Faroes was delayed by three hours due to inclement weather. We settled into an airport café, indulging in coffee and cake while watching a bustling world pass by. After what felt like an eternity, we finally boarded our flight.
Upon arrival, a friendly taxi driver whisked us away from Vagar Airport to Tórshavn. When we offered to leave the change, her surprise and gratitude were heartwarming.
In those initial days, we roamed the capital, stocked up on groceries, and familiarized ourselves with local bus routes and café hours. Although I initially struggled to contact home—this was before the era of smartphones—I finally reached my family using the hostel’s phone.
As the days unfolded, we traversed the islands primarily by bus, opting not to rent a car—an oversight I sometimes wish I could amend. We explored Gjógv, Eiði, Runavík, and Klaksvík, but despite our best efforts, we never made it to Mykines, strengthening my resolve to return one day.
One evening in Tórshavn, while wandering near Hotel Tórshavn, I spotted a young woman up the street. We exchanged glances but continued on our respective paths, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was Susan. Surreal as it was, I hadn’t arranged to meet her. Sadly, it was our last day, and when I returned to the hostel, I messaged her. My hunch was correct; I was disappointed we couldn’t meet up, but we promised to connect in the future.
True to my word, I returned in July 2012 to conduct research for my undergraduate dissertation. The University of the Faroe Islands had launched a £500 bursary for foreign students, making the application process delightfully simple.
In the months leading up to my second solo trip, I coordinated with my dissertation supervisor about my research focus on renewable energy in small island communities. I connected with a professor at the University of the Faroe Islands who facilitated meetings with key figures in the industry and led me to interesting sites, including Prof. Knud Simonsen, a remarkable individual.
Interestingly, the £500 bursary was to be collected in cash upon arrival rather than through a bank transfer, a charming quirk I found endearing.
Before my arrival, I reached out to Susan, and we arranged to reconnect during my stay. We caught a movie together in Tórshavn—*Spider-Man 4*, if memory serves—and enjoyed a day on the road with her boyfriend, visiting stunning sites such as the breathtaking Saksun.
The visit proved to be the highlight of my trip. Even a decade later, I can still vividly recall the dramatic landscape; Saksun is etched in my mind, and I vow to return one day.
That evening, Susan graciously invited me to her home for a family dinner. I met her sister, nieces, and mother, who made a sincere effort to engage with her limited English. I felt a twinge of embarrassment at my own lack of Faroese.
The meal was a complete Faroese feast, featuring dried fish, lamb, and potatoes. Their hospitality was overwhelming, and we shared laughs and stories, including their enthusiasm for Manchester United and their admiration for England’s Wayne Rooney.
This experience offered a genuine glimpse into Faroese life, one I will always treasure. Later that evening, I returned to my hostel, where I savored a quiet coffee at Hotel Tórshavn, penned some notes for my dissertation, and reflected on yet another unforgettable trip to the Faroes.
Since then, my passion for the Islands has only deepened. Though it’s been quite a while since my last visit, I continue to read articles, tune into the Faroe Islands Podcast hosted by Matthew Workman, and catch any available Faroese football highlights. I remain friends with Susan on Facebook, and even though we don’t communicate as we once did, it’s heartwarming to see her thriving with her own family in the Faroes.
The Faroe Islands are an absolute gem, a true island paradise that I would recommend exploring to anyone willing to venture off the beaten path.
