August 23, 2021
Sunday was my day to sleep in. With my eye mask on, I didn’t wake up until 9:30! And, honestly, I could have slept longer! Maybe it was the travel catching up to me. Or maybe being in the Faroes just does that to you. The air is fresh and cool, the clouds are low and damp. In the night, I heard some thunder and the wind rattled the windows, but this morning was calm. I came downstairs and found Mary sleeping on the comfy leather couch, so I didn’t feel so bad. I tiptoed around, made coffee, looked out the window at the tranquil little village and waited for my sweet friend to wake up.
It was around noon before we were finished with that last cup of coffee (Karat by Douwe Egbert) and the slices of dense whole wheat bread and butter we had for breakfast. Then off we went to Gjógv (“the cleft”–pronounced Jack-f ). It’s one of the best natural harbors in the Faroes. We drove up and over the mountain to the north, around the highest mountain in the country Slættaratindur, then down the hairpin turns to the coast. My stick shift driving improved quickly on these steep and narrow roads. Oops, watch out for that sheep. Woah, pull over so the oncoming car can pass! Aargh, downshift so the little four-banger Kia Rio can climb.
Once in Gjógv, we saw a tour bus just ahead of us that off-loaded a whole bunch of Germans in red jackets, indicating they were on one of the Seaventure Tours originating in Iceland. (Someday I would love to do that tour!) One of the gentlemen pointed out the tiny puffins that were flying out of the cliff caves. They flap their wings quickly, like a bat, so they were easily distinguished from the other sea birds.
After that, we headed to Elduvík , hidden on the other side of Funningsfjørður. Only 15 people live there, as opposed to the 40 who live in Funningur, our little village. On the way, we met a tour guide who tol us that his grandmother had live in Elduvík and that the townspeople called villagers called the inhabitants of Funningur “The evil people.” Sounds like good old-fashioned village rivalry to me. My friend Alis (born and raised in Funningur) didn’t seem as amused as we were by the label. She told us that in the “old days,” men from Funningur would row their boats to to Elduvík and bring some of the girls back with them. So jealousy must be at the root of the rivalry. Whatever! Those kinds of stories add to the charm of this place. Other than a pushy German shop owner who menacingly told us, “Now it’s your turn,” suggesting we buy one of his lovely boiled wool coats made with local wool and support the local farmers, we liked this small town. The Legend of the Merman began here and the statue in the harbor proved its importance to the community.
Mary hadn’t really eaten breakfast, so at 3 p.m. we found ourselves at a pizza parlor in Nordskáli. I used the ATM to get 3000 DKK to pay our rent, while Mary ordered pizza. We headed back “heim” and devoured it before plopping into the soft leather chairs in the living room to knit and watch KFV-TV–the public channel. We watched a program about the birds on Mykines (pronounce “Mitch-in-ess”)–brutal! Bigger seagulls eat little birds that fall out of the nest or they find a nest and dig in to the eggs. Nature is fascinating . . . and cruel. After that, there was a program (in English!) about how the Faroese people worked together to battle Covid in 2020. It really showed what a resilient and lovely people live here.
Alis stopped by for tea around 8:30 p.m. She announced that there had been no “positives” for Covid last Friday at the Vágar (pronounced “Vo-wahr”) airport, which meant we tested negative. Woo-hoo! We toasted our licorice tea, which Alis loved, and then bid farewell at 9:30 p.m. She looked miserable as she told us she wasn’t looking forward to school on Monday. I guess there are some nasty pupils everywhere in the world–even in idyllic Faroe Islands. Poor dear! But we invited her back for soup the next evening so she could vent about her day.
Thus ended Day 2. I took a lukewarm shower in the small basement bathroom and headed to bed around 10:30 p.m. What a *nice, cool & damp yet magnificent day! As we say in Faroese: Deiligt! (pronounced Doy-lit!)
Heart to Heart 