„This is KAB, Antonio Bay. Stevie Wayne here, beaming a signal across the sea. For the men in the Sea Grass, miles out tonight, a warm hello and keep a watch out for that fog bank, heading in from the east.“ Remember? 1980. Local radio DJ Stevie on the air. In John Carpenter’s horror movie „The Fog“. Mystery. Droning synthesizer-tones. Suspense. „Bolt your doors. Lock your windows. There’s something in the fog!“
There’s something in the fog … at present, too? Maybe, maybe not. Can’t see an awful lot, looking out of that window. Didn’t go to Antonio Bay, that’s for sure. Sitting in Kristianshús instead, on Mykines, next to a terrified visitor from Germany. Too bad. We had just passed the monument that was set up 1939, in honor of the lost fishermen, when it happened.
What had been a tinge of grey in the beginning, relentlessly morphed into pure Carpenter-style, within barely half an hour. Have you ever experienced fog, coming in on little cat feet, or speeding like a go-bananas-bulldozer? Whatever kind. There are no two ways about it: Fog changes everything. Colors. Visibility. Shapes. Even sounds, not to mention plans, like introducing a friend to the puffins of Mykines.
Hiking in continuously foggy conditions? Bad idea. That’s why we are sitting in this café now, back down in the village, believing to be on the safe side, before, all the sudden, noticing: something’s up. Down in the village, too. The fog has been following us. Slowly but surely is the speed at which the creepy mist is moving. There is no choice. I step outside, facing the inevitable.
„This is KAB, Mykines Bay. Anja here, beaming a signal across the sea. Bolt your doors. Lock your windows. There's something in the fog! The next song, I dedicate to all those who watch scary movies, even though they hide behind sofa cushions all the time. Here you are. John Carpenter’s The Fog, Main Title Theme.“