Wednesday, Campsite
Thursday, trip to Mykines
The first encounter with just about everything in
the Faroes involves it being covered in cloud.
The rocky southern shores of Mykines.
The town, likewise called Mykines.
Barbara at perhaps her peak of energy for the trip.
I think we both put on some muscle.
Looking back on the town near the beginning of
our hike to the Mykines Hólmur lighthouse.
Helicopter, a perhaps not so surpisingly
common way to get around.
Our first siting of a proper little gathering of puffins,
that utterly infest the island.
The town hidden now by a high bluff, again looking back
along the southern shore.
What, Barbarba, they're just roosting gulls, I don't
see why you want to take so many pictures of them
oh. . .wait. . . OH GOD THE CUTENESS.
Possibly the loudest lamb in all
the Faroes, which is definitely saying
something. Like my cat, it was fond
of braying even while it eat.
Taking a little time over on the east side of the town.
The noble wharves of Mykines.
Friday, hike from Hvalvik to Vestmanna
Didn't quite get the focus right, but I still think they
turned out pretty well.
Looking back down on Hvalvik from nearly 400 meters.
My bad tree pose, or my fat Ian Anderson impression.
Take your pick. The cairn didn't complain.
Catching site of the southern shores of the island.
Let it not deceive you, we were not actually following
this road. It just got in the way of the shot.
The electric fence that Barbara managed to shock
herself on, before we found a spot to climb over.
Because we ain't gonna use no gorram road.
One of the stately, grey vested Ravens (or are they crows?)
that wander about all the islands.
Blurry, but they're somewhat faster and harder to
catch in flight than the portly puffins.
Saturday, trip to Suðuroy
And the bus never came. Makes you want to cry,
doesn't it?
The point at which the consolatory hike north
of Tvøroyri, after missing the bus, became
worthwhile.
I'm not sure what was happening here,
but it felt like victory.
Ferry ride back to Tórshavn, after the rather
disappointing trip.
Sunday, trip to Klaksvík
Might have been the cloudiest spot we visited.
The mountain is up there somewhere.
Very stately, barbarian-king type horns, until they
get on caught on a fence post, and then it's just sad
and hilarious.
Don't let it fool you. That sun lasted for about five minutes.
The ridgeline of the peak, with it's many cairns
informing one where there is not sheer cliffside.
A danish fresco, at risk of water damage and so
transfered to Canvas and send to the Faroes.
Not sure if it's visible, but there's the boat that one
of the earlier priests used to travel about the island.
From the outside, less impressive, but still a fine church,
and better when full of Danish hymnal (possibly the
only time it actually sounds like a language?)
Our last night, hanging out at the old Tórshavn
campsite with Gísli and Kári, and the moon did
us the good courtesy of being appropriate.
The midnight sun, shying away.
