It is fascinating to see how these isolated fishing/whaling communities grew up in the Faroes and Iceland. They must have been tiny communities living in remote safe havens deep in fjords that have now blossomed into towns.
I am told that it’s often like this. Even the ducks were fed up.
Reyn is the old part of town with the turf-covered roofs.
Out in the middle of nowhere, among the sombre mountains, waterfalls and ominous skies, by the side of a cove, lies the small village of Saxsum. It consists of a scattering of turfed cottages and a church in a glorious setting.
Driving through the mountains and hills, with their scattered communities, or single dwellings, one is struck by the loneliness and beautiful bleakness of the place. It is incredibly picturesque.
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Long ago The Faroes rose up out of the sea in tumultuous volcanic activity. The end result is a land of dead volcanoes, mountains of ash and larva and a rugged, fertile landscape.
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We teamed up with a few others and went looking for transport!
We found painted houses, more turf roofs and some art!
