Instinctively I often think I'd like to live in such a place, I'm not quite sure though why I think that. I'm fairly sure I would in fact not after a while.
I was in the Faroe Islands just 3 weeks ago, including the walk to the Kallur lighthouse. Spectacular beautiful place, already planning my next visit and to explore many more places than I reached this time around.
Unfortunately home to grindadrap [0], one of the most cruel traditions in the world where hundreds of white dolphins are hunted with high speed motor boats and painfully slaughtered for sport.
The photos generally looked like all of the other photos I've seen posted from tourists visiting the Faroe Islands, but I was impressed by the presentation of the tall portrait-orientation image of people atop a cliff. At least on my device, all of the previous images on the page had been entirely in frame at once, but that image required 3 scrolls to reach the bottom, really driving home the height of the cliff.
Stunning pictures - thank you for sharing these. And I thought October on the Olympic Peninsula was darks & rainy! The sheer cliff faces brought to mind so many cinematic moments - seems like a Herzog film waiting to be made. How many of the islands did you visit?
No trees at all on any of these photos, except for one photo which seems to be part of a garden (and maybe it is only larger bushes). I would feel very depressed by that alone.
Nice write up and great photos. But I have to nitpick- the claim that there are no sandy beaches is false- Tjørnuvik Beach is a cool black sand beach. You can even take surf lessons there.
> There are no guardrails, no warning signs, and definitely no liability waivers - just you, the weather, and whatever route the sheep decided made sense.
I absolutely love places like this; places that treat you as a discerning, rational adult. The sense of being responsible for yourself feels freeing. It is an invitation for you to experience something entirely in your own way.
What strikes me immediately are the vibrant colors of the houses.
Walk through most any suburban American neighborhood and you'll primarily see neutral shades of white, gray, beige, or the occasional muted blues and greens. Sometimes someone will be daring and paint their house in a deep, dark blue or purple (or even black) but that feels relatively rare.
If near the ocean, typical "seaside pastels" come into view.
What's the backstory to the Faroes' colors? Are they set by some local entity/government? Left up to the homeowners? Was there a push to make them colorful? Do the locals have a particular eye for color composition? Did someone help them?
Why are American homes so bland and the Faroes' so delightfully colorful?
Would've thought trying to block right-clicking on pictures died in the 90s, yet here we are. Trying to stop someone on the internet from saving pictures you've explicitly served them on your website isn't the silliest thing I can think of, but it's definitely up there.
"The Faroe Islands are like the child that Denmark and Iceland had, but forgot to tell the world about. This group of eighteen small islands receives the least amount of sunshine in the world per year. Constant rain and heavy winds have always battered these lands."
"Constant storms and crashing waves have sculpted the volcanic rock over millions of years into some of the most jaw-dropping (and vertigo-inducing) coastlines on Earth. These towering basalt cliffs can reach heights of over 400 meters, dropping straight into churning seas below."
OK, enough with the hard sell, what's the immigration policy?
These rich and colourful photos remind me of an internal battle I’m having with my own amateur photography. I’ve always aspired to this kind of styling, but lately been intrigued by how you can sometimes make photos subjectively better by muting the colours, making them less true to life, reducing the contrast, etc. Advocates for that style would call the photos in the blog post “cartoonish”. I guess there’s a place for both styles. For what it’s worth, I think the photos in the blog post are great.
I was there a few years back, was absolutely incredible! Really special time. I used this this travel agency called remót travel which planned some fantastic hikes, we ate with locals, met artists, and even the prime minister (pretty funny, such a small country haha). Highly recommend for people (although I don't know if the Faroes has gotten more crowded now like Iceland)
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[ 2.0 ms ] story [ 51.1 ms ] threadInstinctively I often think I'd like to live in such a place, I'm not quite sure though why I think that. I'm fairly sure I would in fact not after a while.
Edited to add: I put a handful of pics on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/DO0mTX3DE1I/?img_index=1 (and some videos on my profile too). I was lucky to have sunshine almost the whole time I was there.
I have always thought it came from "fjær" (far). According to Wikipedia it is debated, and it may even come from "fara" (to travel).
[0] https://www.seashepherdglobal.org/latest-news/slaughter-dolp...
I absolutely love places like this; places that treat you as a discerning, rational adult. The sense of being responsible for yourself feels freeing. It is an invitation for you to experience something entirely in your own way.
Walk through most any suburban American neighborhood and you'll primarily see neutral shades of white, gray, beige, or the occasional muted blues and greens. Sometimes someone will be daring and paint their house in a deep, dark blue or purple (or even black) but that feels relatively rare.
If near the ocean, typical "seaside pastels" come into view.
What's the backstory to the Faroes' colors? Are they set by some local entity/government? Left up to the homeowners? Was there a push to make them colorful? Do the locals have a particular eye for color composition? Did someone help them?
Why are American homes so bland and the Faroes' so delightfully colorful?
So many questions!
I suppose everyone in Greece knows them. :)
"Constant storms and crashing waves have sculpted the volcanic rock over millions of years into some of the most jaw-dropping (and vertigo-inducing) coastlines on Earth. These towering basalt cliffs can reach heights of over 400 meters, dropping straight into churning seas below."
OK, enough with the hard sell, what's the immigration policy?