Gasadalur | Tumbling Recklessly | None of my map apps seem to work. After years of relying on a mechanical voice to navigate me in strange lands, I am

faroe - Fernwayer Travel Stories & Experiences

Faroe Islands

None of my map apps seem to work. After years of relying on a mechanical voice to navigate me in strange lands, I am back to poring over paper and asking for directions. I actually like driving here! 

Except when negotiating a one-lane tunnel. Then I am terrified! Unless I have right of way, I have to duck in - at just the right moment - into one of the spaces marked M, and stay there till the dark tunnel ahead is clear of oncoming headlights. This game needs nerves of steel! There are two such tunnels to get to Gásadalur, the waterfall that tumbles recklessly into the ocean.

The best photos require descending down the cliff to the beach below. There is a helpful set of concrete steps, and a big signboard in Faroese that can only be a warning, since it has a lot of exclamation marks. 

I hold on for dear life to the wobbly rusted handrail and descend half way before I realize that the rail isn’t connected to the cliff wall! The view, however, is just perfect.

Tumbling Recklessly

United States

I’m seduced by the untouched beauty and drama of the Faroe Islands. Driving into Tórshavn, I witness a rare Faroese sight.

The ocean is bright red. The beach is packed with onlookers. It’s a grindadráp, a pilot whale hunt. Heavily regulated, it’s being carried out with process perfected over millennia. A local couple points out their son to me, he is on one of the boats — “unless we send a boat, we won’t get our share of the whale meat.”

When a school of pilot whales is sighted, boats gather around and slowly drive them towards the chosen bay or beach, for it’s illegal to kill the whales in the open sea. This time, there are about two hundred of them. Every bit of them will be consumed or used — and none can be sold.

I’m shocked, outraged, fascinated, caught up in the excitement and terribly conflicted. As a traveler, I respect — and seek to understand — culture and tradition. And the Faroese are holding on to this one — as it symbolizes for them their relationship with the sea.

Culture Shock

Getting there on a little ferry tossed around on the surging Atlantic Ocean needs courage. As the boat uses all her resources to maneuver into a tight, rocky harbor, I wonder if the captain, who does this twice a day, is either extremely brave or completely suicidal. We step on to what looks like the sets of a Disney fantasy movie. Twenty colorful grass-roofed homes, one little schoolhouse - which has one child - and a bridge over the Atlantic.

I meet my guide Harald - a septuagenarian with poise to rival the curious sheep we see hanging precariously over the cliffs. Harald leads our little group on a 4-hour hike across the island to the lighthouse at the westernmost point of the Faroes.

Birds are everywhere - puffins, fulmars, kittiwakes, gannets - on the green hills, riding the ocean waves, occupying every inch of cliff space, filling the air with their calls, and circling the sky.

Faroe Islands

Vága Municipality

Tumbling Recklessly

Culture Shock

Mykines

Beakful of fish