We sat on a bench. Everything seemed to be childishly simple that day. Slow movement. Talking to the old houses of our village, in secret languages, and in confidence. Reciting nursery rhymes, accompanied by tiny little songbirds. Elduvík, poetically put …
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Life In A Northern Village In The Month Of January
Rooftops, boat houses, church and weathervane covered with snow. A friend pops in, carrying a carton and something that looks like an oversized table tennis racket … Next: an invitation and a lost scarf (almost). Snow melting, more snow, sunshine and blue skies. Walking down to our old harbor. This feeling, when you know that it’s your footsteps …
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Preserving History: Uppi í Beiti. The Old House in Viðareiði
“You are looking for Sverri? Down there, that’s his house. Park your car in my driveway and follow the narrow path. That’s the shortest way.“ No sooner said than done. The second I walk towards the back of the old house, I know that something doesn’t add up – for whatever reason. Soon, I’ll find out …
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Visiting Malan Jógvansdóttir, Probably In Gjógv's Oldest House
Arriving at Gjógv, picture-book village in the northeast of Eysturoy, named after and famous for its 200-meter seawater-fed gorge. Sweeping, that gorge. But irrelevant at the present moment. Today, we go for a hidden treasure. A private home. Jógvansstova, said to be Gjógv’s oldest house …
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A Taste Of Mykines and Changes Ahead
Take a look at my pictures and get a taste of the island. Also notice that some changes might take place on Mykines soon. On the news recently: talks and controversies about i.a. a fee that’s supposed to be charged with the beginning of this year’s summer season, to all those who want to walk the outfields …
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Saksun: A Symphony of Colors
Imagine a beautiful winding road that leads through a picturesque valley. This it what you see at the road’s end: Saksun, a place in the northwestern part of Streymoy. In the autumn, Saksun’s 50 Shades of Green turn into a Symphony of Brown and Red. At low tide, you can take a walk up to the waterfront. A scenery of surreal beauty …
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There’s something in the fog …
„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.“ There’s something in the fog – at present, too? Maybe, maybe not. Sitting in Kristianshús instead, on Mykines, next to a terrified visitor from Germany …
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