TRAVEL
The Faroe Islands
The Faroe Islands are among countries with the smallest populations in the world, yet I’ve never seen as many people in the streets. It’s midnight on 29 July, the peak of Olavsoka − the national festival − and it seems that all of the islands’ 50,000 inhabitants have gathered
Serpent”) – all 85 stanzas of it. A bystander no more, my Faroese sister-in-law puts her right arm on top of my left. I quickly grab my husband before I lose him in the crowd, and we join the chain dance, a local tradition which goes back to medieval times. Glymur dansur i holl, dans slaid ring! Gladir rida noregs menn til hildarting.
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Day breaks on the emerald islands, gleaming in a rare ray of sunshine. Striking landscapes often hidden behind a veil of fog, the Faroes may Dance resounds in the hall; seem like the mythical island Avalon dance in a ring! of the Arthurian legend. With a surGladly ride Norway’s men face area of only 1,399 km2 (540 sq to Hildr’s Thing. mi) divided between 18 islands, the Stanza by stanza, the leader of the country is subject to a subpolar ocelong and growing procession recites anic climate. The wet weather crethe old folk ballad about the fall of ates optimal grazing conditions for Norse Viking King Olaf Tryggva- the many free-roaming sheep (far in son (announcing into his mic that if Norse), after which the islands are he pauses, it’s because somebody named – and fog. As the fog lifts, grassy mountains, wondrous waterfalls, sea-filled gorges and unrivalled ocean views are revealed. In slumbering seaside villages and trendy Torshavn, local culture thrives. Having overcome centuries of hardship, the people are proud to have preserved their heritage – and happy to share it with visitors.
DID YOU KNOW ...
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in the centre of the capital Torshavn to celebrate. There are quite a few bystanders as well, such as myself, easily distinguishable by their casual attire. The natives are proudly wearing their national costumes. Having just witnessed a crowd of hundreds – or thousands – of people singing together, song after song in near perfect harmony (and awkwardly trying to hum along), it’s now time for Ormurin langi (“The Long
offered him schnapps). Arm in arm, we chant along as loudly as we can. Two steps to the left and one to the right, we try not to step on anyone’s toes, as we snake our way through the town centre. The serpent is long, but so is the night, and it’s just about to start. Die hard Faroese repeat Ormurin langi until sunrise. Dance resounds in the hall.
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01 The crowd at Olavsoka in the centre of Torshavn around midnight. Photo: Olavur Frederiksen. 02 View of Mykines island from the village of Gasadalur. Photo: Christoffer Collin. 03 Old grass-roofed house in the village of Saksun. Photo: Christoffer Collin.
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04 The village of Eidi. Photo: Christoffer Collin.
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