Monday, August 11, 2014

Hotel Foroyar

After a few days at the Hotel Torshavn in the old part of the city down by the waterfront we had our next few nights planned at the Hotel Foroyar up the hill from town. Jo went off with the kids to the big park in the middle of town and I took our luggage up in a taxi to Hotel Foroyar.

I dropped off our luggage and found a single track lava rock path and set off down the hill towards town. After a couple of sharp descents through a rare copse of trees I was about to come into the grassy open when I was startled by a lady coming up the other way. She was very agitated and grabbed my hands in hers and spoke excitedly in Danish or Faroese. When she noticed I wasn't comprehending she pointed back down the way she had come and said "dead".

I stepped gingerly around the next corner and noticed a body in the grass. Young male. From where I was it looked like the head was missing. The lady was crying by now. I slowly approached and was relieved to note that the head was there - it was hidden from view by tall grass. A young face. Pale but not white. I saw the chest move. Breathing. I felt the face. Cold but not rigor mortis cold.

By then the lady had crept up behind me. I said "Sleeping. I think". Then I gently shook his shoulder. He moaned a bit. His face and hands had evidence of road rash - where he must have fallen on the path. There was a cigarette burn hole in the sleeve of his shirt.

After a couple of gentle slaps I got him awake. Then up on his feet. He looked sheepishly at us. He said he was walking back from a wedding late last night and didn't make it home. He used the lady's phone to call someone. Then he said they he was feeling better and pitched forward into the grass again. I got him up and supported him down the path till we arrived at a street. He pointed to his house, thanked me and walked away tottering slightly.


I met Jo and the kids at the park. Then we had lunch and took a taxi up to the hotel. The hotel is fairly new. It was designed by a famous Danish architectural firm using elements of Faroese construction and Danish modernism. Heads of state and kings and queens stay here when they visit. One suite is called the Bill Clinton Suite. Does it comes with an intern...?

The most striking feature of hotel is how the windows open out into wild turf. No landscaping. Breathtaking view down to the city and the harbor below and the island of Nolsoy across. Vivian and Evan spent many an hour over the next few days playing outside the windows. Or sitting at the windows.


There was this group of Americans at the hotel who were very noticeably different from the other guests. They wore black shirts with skulls and denims and several had long hair. They were like the caricature of a aging rock band. Occasionally they posed for photos with other guests in the hallways. We had breakfast on the table next to them most mornings. They chatted among themselves and we could overhear deep discussions about Gaza and One Direction and a wide range of other topics. Like one member who was late one morning and admitted that "the language of sex didn't translate". So they had groupies. We wondered who they were. You can see a few of them behind Vivian in the photo below.


One day a cabbie during a ride from town told us that the big Summer Festival at Klaksvik was starting the next day. And that the headliners were also staying at our hotel. The Twisted Sisters. Evan wanted to go to Klaksvik. It is two islands over and Jo and I declined. That morning over breakfast the band put several of the waiters on the guest list.

When low clouds roll in, the hotel and the surrounding area look interesting. One morning I was unwilling to run too far from the hotel in fear of never being able to find my way back. Evan didn't want to play outside with Vivian because "I am scared I will fall off the clifft"


Here we are walking down to town one cloudy mid morning. Evan is inspecting the grass "where Daddy found the dead man".  A little bit later the sun came out and the grass sparkled like diamonds. 


Hotel Foroyar ended up being an interesting place. I would stay here agin if I ever came back this way. 

Down to the Beach

Past the village of Saksun we parked our car where the 11 km of single lane road ended and started climbing down towards the tidal pool and it's black sand beach.

The scale here is deceiving. We walked and walked and nothing changed for a long time. Till the trail eventually leveled out down by the water and then we walked some more to the beachish area.


Vivian and Evan ran around in the sand. Jo tried unsuccessfully to nap.  I walked down to the ocean and back. We killed the rest of the day doing nothing and having a great time. The sun dipped. Young couples dressed for an evening date with picnic baskets in hand started arriving. We started a long slow climb back up to the road. A few minutes after we got in the car the kids were fast asleep. Yes, no car seats.


Horse Hill

We went to see some of the oldest homes that have been continuously occupied in Europe at the village of Saksun at the end of 11 km of single lane road with occasional pullouts and a lot more blind curves and traffic. Apparently a local favorite. The weather was fantastic and the locals were coming in droves.

Upon thankfully arriving at Saksun, we ignored the historically significant turf roofed settlements entirely.

And instead walked under a twine (yes, really) fence into private property and looked down at the stupendous view - a large circular tidal pool below fringed with black sand on one side and water falls cascading down towering stoney mountains on the other. Then Vivian discovered ponies and a young lady  grooming them. She set off down the hill towards her and they exchanged waves and pleasantries in different languages and we were welcomed.


A pony approached Jo. The kids went over and he nuzzled them for treats. And we discovered by looking down the steep sides of the hill that the trail to the beach required us to walk back up the hill, drive over the creek and then walk down the other side. After some more horsing around we set off back up to do just that.

Vestmanna Cliffs

Even after Iceland to which it is similar in many ways, the Faroe Islands have been stunning. Anywhere you look.

One morning we drove to the down to the small harbor at end of the fjord at Vestmanna to go see the cliffs. We boarded the Silja Star and sailed down the fjord. The captain pointed out the village you can see to your left in the first photo. It is abandoned. When electricity came around in the 1930s and '40s this village was too remote to add to the grid. It also wasn't connected by roads and it took villagers four hours to walk to the nearest connected village. So people left. Now some of the homes are maintained as summer homes.


The cliffs are amazing. They rise up from the water to over a third of a mile. Some of the cliffs have grassy outcrops. The Faroese bring their sheep to these outcrops to graze for summer. They lower them with ropes from the cliffs tops. At the end of summer men are lowered who then pick up the sheep and lower themselves and sheep into waiting boats below. The captain explained that this is because the grass is better on the cliffs and that makes the lambs taste better.

"And also just for sport" he added.