I Am Roseberry: Færøerne.

So. Hi.

As you might know, I just spent a week on the Faroese Islands with my choir, the DR Girls Choir. Though we spent most of our time singing, and giving concerts by ourselves, and with the artist Teitur, the Faroesian part of the trip could never exactly slip my mind.

What that characterizes my relationship to the Faroese Islands? It can be summed up in our arrival.

First of all, we had to wait 8 hours in Kastrup Airport, before our flight could depart. This was because the weather on the Faroese Islands was just horrible, and apparently un-navigatable. As fate would have it, our trip, which was supposed to take 4 hours, took us approximately 10 hours.

See, already here, I felt exremely comforted, not to mention warm and fuzzy on the inside (notice the thick layer of sarcasm).

Then, when we had finally taken off, flown the 2-hour-distance, and were preparing to land, another pleasant surprise awaited. Of course, I had heard the rumors about the Faroese airport... but I hadn't really suspected, that they were true. The landing strip is one of the shortest in the world, and it is, incidentally, enclosed by two large cliffs, one on each side. And at the end of this short, short strip, is a lake. So, you apparantly can't see where you are when landing, because of the intense fog, and either A) crash into the surrounding cliffs, or B) dive into the ice cold lake.

So, overcoming all our slightly irrational post-landing fears, after receiving our luggage, we proceeded in driving to our hotel. On the drive I saw the following:

Fog.
Sheep.
Little thatched houses in red, yellow and green.
Cliffs.
Waterfalls and streams running off the mountains everywhere. It was as if there was a big lake at the top of the island, that just kept pouring off water!
More sheep.
Rain.
Zero people. Or wait. I might actually have seen an elderly couple walking along the countryside.
Geese.
Lakes.
Fog.
Sheep.

After this very eventful and exciting drive, we made it to our hostel, which was... shit. Total shit. In fact, it was such intolerable shit, that we learnt, after sleeping there for 2 nights, that there were bedbugs chewing their way through the entire building. Which also meant (grrrr) our clothes, suitcases and... well... everything. We were (after much heated arguing and different practical and impractical arrangements) bumped up to the hotel next-door, and enjoyed a lovely week with breakfast buffets, soft cushiony beds, and zero lice-like creatures crawling in our bagage from that point on. Aside from the fact that I had to put all my stuff, including my very large suitcase, in the freezer, to kill the cheeky bedbug bastards, as soon as I returned home, it was a very enjoyable change.

Later in the week, I learned that fog and generally bad weather is very characteristic for the Faroese Islands. We experienced fog (lots of it), rain, hail, extreme wind (which nearly blew me off a cliff), and, at the end of the week, snow! Though this may seem bothersome, and I was indeed huddled in 4-5 layers of woollen sweaters and wintercoats (plural), it could actually be quite enjoyable. When the sun peeks out once in a blue moon, and you can actually see the amazing view that comes with all the magnifiscent cliffs and lakes... and the colors show, amd the sheep seem fluffier, and the snow is suddenly charming... it's really beautiful there. And the bad weather? Well, it's nothing a few hundred sweaters won't solve.

As for the Faroesians themselves, I have seldom met a nicer people; they're so kind and cuddly and woollen all of them (as a matter of fact, they remind me of sheep...) Though the Faroese Islands are a part of Denmark, it feels like a totally different world over there. The climate, the sheep, the language... Oh, if you ever go to the Faroese Islands, enjoy the language! It's absolutely hilarious, and utterly unpronouncable. This we learned in our many choir rehearsals with the Faroesian artist Teitur, with whom we where singing some Faroesian songs. Though he was very polite, and an extremely nice artist to work with, even he couldn't hide a snicker, and a suppressed urge to conk us on the head, whenever we tried to say tín vísdoumur er ein tung byra (your wisdom is a great burden).

So, after meeting Faroesian woollen sweaters, singing songs composed by crazy Faroesian artists, getting sea-sick on a Faroese boat and eating Faroese fish soup, all the while enjoying the thick Faroese fog, I feel thoroughly Faroesed.

All in all, our trip to the Faroese Islands was thrilling, a little frustrating at times, but over-all a very nice and good-mooded week.

But I'm still glad to be home again; and especially glad to take my stuff out of the freezer.