At present, my car looks as if I’d moved in. Not because I’m a messy person, but rather because I need to be one-hundred percent prepared. Gumboots. Ugg boots. Camera tripod. My new foldable camping chair, with armrests and cupholder. Rubber pants. Lined jacket. Iphone recharger cable. Buff headwear. Faroese sweater. Pocket knife. Woolen cap. Flashlight. I cannot start collecting all those things every time I leave the house. It simply takes too long. All the same, I have to be ready for all kinds of adventures. Walking the mountains. Strolling around villages. Taking pictures. Even attending concerts.
For example, yesterday: First, I visited Kvívík, a village on the west coast of Streymoy. This much can be revealed here and now: In Kvívík, I came across something amazing, completely out of the blue. No, I’m not talking about the remains of the old settlement of the vikings. Something much more impressive, and absolutely non-public. The headline of my corresponding blogpost will be: A hidden treasure. Stay tuned, and be part of Anja’s treasure hunter society. I swear it’s worth it. Stop whining. OK, a hint: At the old viking settlement, I met someone. And that someone introduced me to another person. Together, they showed me a collection. That’s it for now. Curious? Good!
On with the show: Immediately after Kvívík, I checked out the funny cottages that are located nearby the village close to a hillside. What do they look like: Igloos or oversized footballs? I really couldn’t make up my mind, so I just moved on. Bought some cookies at the gas station in Vestmanna, headed back and then drove Oyggjarvegur, the old mountain road to Tórshavn.
Remember my camping chair? Sitting somewhere up in the mountains in that chair, Thermos bottle, hot coffee, with a view to a fjord – this had been the plan. Well, there was no view. Only thick fog. Bravely, I pulled over and got out of the car anyway. Just to find out how it feels like, when cold, wet fog hits your face and creeps into your delicious cookies. As I told you: I carry around all that stuff in my car. I cannot explain why I didn’t put on any sweater, boots or jacket. Maybe I acted out of spite, because all my cookies got wet in that stupid fog.
At the time I arrived in Tórshavn, I was freezing. Therefore I headed directly to Norðurlandahúsið – way before time. The Nordic House on Faroe Islands, space for art performances, exhibitions and symposiums. Norwegian stones, Finnish chairs, Danish glass and steel, Icelandic roof construction, Faroese grass on top. Annual events: around 350, approximately 50.000 visitors per year.