Thorshavn, Faroe Islands

Suffice it to say that the Faroe Islands, wonderful in the summer and fall, have a charm throughout the winter, even when the weather may be at its more dramatic, and the days draw short. By December, the sun will rise above the horizon at about nine o’clock, and dip back down before half past three; and this burst of sunshine visible only at sea level, as behind the mountains, the sun will penetrate only briefly as it reaches its peak.

But despite this drawback, the islands are cosy, welcoming and endlessly fascinating.

In the course of a couple of days, it is possible to drive to most of the northern islands, connected as they are by an intricate system of tunnels and bridges. While the difference between the islands might appear academic at first glance, it is their very distinctions that make the country such a pleasure to explore.

The fourteen or so islands lie roughly northwest to south east, and rise to over 3,000’ although only a mile or so wide. The land plunges down into the sea, to unfathomable depths before rising up a few hundred yards further to create another magnificent, rocky and spectacular island. Nestled along the shoreline are the ancient communities clinging to the land, their past and future firmly determined by the sea. The islands are indeed ancient, and their language reminiscent to Old Norse. It is a language that nearly died in the late 1800s, and it is said that only the interest of Danish lexicographers sent to the islands to record the remaining fragments of language, spurred the islanders to a linguistic revival. Now the Faroese language, spoken by a maximum of 70,000 folks, is indeed thriving. 140 bookes were published in 2010/11 in the language, and its own literature is rich and growing.

The culture of the islands is strong, and obvious everywhere. Communities are proud and welcoming, the traditional Faroese sweaters and jackets are worn regularly and their old foods are common. Possibly too common for many as the appearance of puffins, dried salt-cod, whale blubber and mutton head-cheese on otherwise conventional buffets can be a surprise.

Having tried a piece of the cured whale blubber (which I had incorrectly identified as cod) and decided that it was not a flavour that I was likely to acquire, I was admonished for eating it incorrectly. Advised that the correct and delicious way to enjoy this delicacy was to compose a trifecta of dried salt-cod, speck (the harmless name they give to whale blubber) topped with a boiled potato. This combination was the only way to enjoy these delicacies, and as the Faroese did it this way, so should we all.

Popping it into my mouth and chewing was the gustatory equivalent of a right hook. There is a very good reason that the delicacy has not spread, and while the alarm on my face may have registered my true feelings, I managed to chew and swallow it, and rapidly poured a shot of local fire-water in to douse the experience.

This proved to be an error, as I had not realised quite how strongly the aquavit was flavoured with aniseed, and the ensemble thus created was memorable.

Fond memories, though, as it has to be said that the rest of the feast was wonderful, and the experience only went to reinforce how closely this wonderful country has kept its culture.

To drive through the islands is to gasp at the endless perfect scenery, to wonder at the picturesque communities, to marvel at the engineering that has built the infrastructure to keep the community together yet living in their traditional villages; it is a country of ever-changing weather, cloud formations that inspire and light that seems to make the country smile.

It is, perhaps, one of the most difficult countries in the world to imagine carving out a living among the high and craggy islands way out in the North Sea, but the Faroese do, and do with a smile that reflects their pride in maintaining their culture and pride.

For a visitor, the Faroe Islands offer peace and excitement, they foster tranquillity and curiosity, and thay always leave one eager to return.