So it begins

Fog, Cliffs and Tunnels

Published Date : June 27, 2013

I drove into Vestmanna this morning for a boat tour out to the bird cliffs.  I’m not especially interested in birding, so it was more about being out on the water and enjoying some stunning scenery.  The 10:00 tour wasn’t running so I bought myself a ticket on the 14:30 trip.  That left me with a couple of hours to kill, so I decided to head north and visit some of the other islands. 

I made my way back over to Eysturoy and explored some more of the island.  I drove to Elduvík first, a tiny village across the fjord from Gjögv.  Not stopping, I turned east to Leirvík and through an undersea tunnel to Klaksvík on the island of Borðoy.  Klaksvík is the second largest city in the Faroe Islands.  Like Tórshavn, it is a maze of narrow winding streets.   I had originally thought that I would stop there and explore the town, but there were two more islands accessible by road, which were calling to me.

I left Klaksvík behind and drove up the west coast of Borðoy.  The island of Kunoy was literally a stone’s throw away.  Its sheer cliffs rose up to the sky across a narrow stretch of water.   I crossed the water on a single lane bridge built on top of a low rock dam.  Once on Kunoy, the road immediately led into a long tunnel through the heart of the island.

There are two toll tunnels in the Faroe Islands:  the one I drove through when I arrived which connects the islands of Vágar and Streymoy, and a second one that connects the islands of Eysturoy and Borðoy.  Both of these tunnels are well lit and in excellent condition.  Some of the other tunnels, not so much.  The Kunoy tunnel is a 3km, single lane road connecting the communities of Kunoy and Haraldssund.  It is unlit and the walls are uneven and jagged making it feel more like a mine than a tunnel.   Once again, I was reminded of Tolkien’s dwarves.

Kunoy is a tiny community of about 65 people that is precariously perched on the steep slopes of the island.  In need of some fresh air and a chance to stretch my legs, I took 2 minutes to wander through the town.  No that wasn’t a typo – it really only took about 2 minutes!  From town I walked down the narrow switch-backed road to the boat launch.  A short distance away was the next island, Kalsoy, accessible only by boat or helicopter.  

I paused to sit on a low rock wall overlooking the harbour and savour the moment.  Once again I was struck by just how rugged and isolated the Faroe Islands are.  There’s something about this place that triggers my imagination.  The banks of fog that roll through, obscuring everything from view just adds to that feeling of isolation and being completely cut off from the rest of the world.  I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like for the earliest settlers here.  It certainly wouldn’t have been easy.

Back in the car, I retraced my path back to Klaksvík. From there, I turned north-east and found myself once again in an un-lit, single lane tunnel through an island.  Coming out the other side, I immediately came to a short bridge over to the island of Viðoy.  The winding road north to the town of Viðareiði was carved into the steep cliffs on the west coast of the island.  I had successfully driven to all 6 of the islands that are accessible by road. 

Satisfied with the day’s explorations and with time running short, I turned south again.  The return trip to Vestmanna took about 2 hours including a brief pit stop in Klaksvík for some gas and a snack.   

I wish I could adequately describe the boat tour.  Surreal is probably a good word to start with.  The sky was clear and the water was calm as we left Vestmanna harbour.  Almost as soon as we left the shelter of the inlet, we were met with rolling banks of thick fog and angry seas.  The birders among the passengers were disappointed, but the nature lovers were not.  We hugged the sheer cliffs, watching jagged rock spires disappear behind heavy fog only to reappear moments later, bathed in sunlight.  I know I’m repeating myself, but I can’t help it: beautiful, rugged, isolated. 

As the surf continued to build, our captain decided it was time to return to dry land.  By the time we returned to the dock, we were all drenched from the waves crashing over the boat.  One passenger was horribly seasick from all the lurching to and fro in the surge.

Back in the shelter of the harbour, the sea was calmer, but the clouds had rolled in.  I had a quick dinner of soup and a salad with a most welcome mug of hot cocoa to warm up.  Behind the wheel once more, I made the drive back to the guesthouse for my last night on the Faroe Islands.

Return to Reykjavik

Published Date : June 28, 2013

Travel days are always a crapshoot.  In addition to the usual hours of tedium punctuated by moments of utter boredom, flying in and out of the Faroe Islands and Iceland also brings the fan favourite: delays.

In addition to the fog most of the day yesterday, last night brought torrential downpours and gale force winds.  The skies were clear in Vágar this morning, but connecting flights out of Reykjavik and Copenhagen were being held up by the fickle weather of the North Atlantic.

I finally boarded my flight, four hours late.  The 1.5 hour flight passed quickly and we were rewarded with clear skies as we crossed over Iceland.  The views of Vatnajökull were stunning and the glacial lagoon, Jökulsárlón, was clearly distinguishable as we passed overhead.

I arrived back in Reykjavik to a mix of rain, sun and icy cold wind.  Hopping into the nearest cab, I was soon checking in to the hostel once more.  I had nothing planned for my last night in Iceland and with a steady rain setting in I was content to spend a quiet night reading and chatting with my roommates.