The Faroe Islands

A year ago, I had no idea where the Faroe Islands were located. I probably didn't even know the islands existed. I'm trying to remember when and where I first heard of them, and I want to say it was either a travel magazine or a blog post. Even now, when I tell people we went to the Faroe Islands, their response is usually, "The Faroe Islands?" The travel motto on the Faroe Islands website is "Unspoiled, Unexplored, Unbelievable." Situated between Iceland and Norway, the islands were only a short one-hour flight from our trip to Iceland. After seeing photos of the extreme and stunning landscapes, I knew we had to experience them for ourselves.

When I first searched for flights to the Faroe Islands, I assumed I could punch the destination into Kayak and choose from a few different options. It turned out there was really only one practical way into Vágar Airport, Atlantic Airways. A round-trip flight from Reykjavík cost around $200 per person, which felt quite reasonable. Booking months in advance, I had no idea that we would run into one of my childhood friends from Dallas, Nathan. He had been on a months-long adventure across half the globe and happened to be flying out of the Faroe Islands on the same plane we were taking in. We knew ahead of time that our paths would cross, so it was great to catch up and get a few last-minute tips for the hikes we had planned.

After looking through the hotel options on the islands, we decided to go the Airbnb route, and we definitely made the right choice. We found a cabin near the tiny town of Bøur, population 75, which became the perfect place to rest and recharge between hikes. The sun had already set by the time we arrived from the airport, making the cabin a little tricky to find. Luckily, Yvonne was willing to creep around in the dark until she spotted it. From the town parking lot, it was only a short five-minute walk downhill toward the water.

Just north of Bøur is the village of Gásadalur. We wanted to catch the waterfall at first light, so we left the cabin early. The drive introduced us to one of the defining features of the islands, tunnels carved through mountains and beneath the sea to connect villages that once felt impossibly remote. It was only in 2004 that Gásadalur was finally connected to the rest of Vágar by car through a one-lane tunnel. When we reached the viewpoint for Múlafossur, a few sheep were our only company. That solitude became a theme for the rest of the trip. Tourism was growing, but compared with Iceland, it still felt like we had many of these landscapes to ourselves.

This was the view that initially put the Faroe Islands on the map for me. The photographs looked like an optical illusion, with a lake somehow floating high above the ocean. Sørvágsvatn sits very close to the sea, but its surface is roughly 40 meters above sea level. The cliffs along the coast create the dramatic perspective, while Bøsdalafossur carries the lake's water into the Atlantic.

We parked on the outskirts of Miðvágur and began walking along the lake before climbing toward the cliffside viewpoint. The hike started gently through a gate and into a sheep pasture, but after that it felt like a choose-your-own-adventure route. There was no clearly defined trail, only worn grass and muddy tracks left by the people who had gone before us. We mostly followed the shoreline and tried to avoid the wettest sections. Waterproof boots were essential because small streams seemed to run beneath the grass in every direction.

It took us about an hour to reach the top, and the view was breathtaking. Birds flew beneath us near the cliffs while waves crashed against the rocks below. Faint outlines of the neighboring islands appeared in the distance, and the wind was incredibly strong. During the entire two-hour hike, we encountered maybe six other people. After the busloads of visitors at Iceland's better-known sights, the quiet felt almost unbelievable.

The weather had been perfect for our morning hike at Sørvágsvatn, but clouds and rain moved in during the hour-long drive to Saksun. The chapel overlooking the lagoon was one of the village's highlights. Its grass roof and rustic stone walls felt completely at home against the rugged terrain surrounding it. Saksun sits at the bottom of what was once a natural harbor, until a storm filled its entrance with sand and left behind the tidal lagoon that defines the landscape today.

Even in the rain, we made our way down toward the dark sand and water. Waterfalls seemed to pour from every hillside around us. On a clearer day, we could have spent hours exploring, but the shifting weather was part of the experience, and it made Saksun feel even more remote.

If the view from Sørvágsvatn put the Faroe Islands on the map for us, a photograph of Kallur Lighthouse sealed the deal. I still cannot explain why I felt so drawn to the place, but seeing it in person did not disappoint. We left Bøur early and drove about 75 minutes to Klaksvík, where we needed to catch the 10 AM ferry to Kalsoy. The short crossing brought us to Syðradalur, and from there a single road ran north through the island's tunnels toward Trøllanes.

Nathan had completed the hike a few days before us and gave us a few useful tips, starting with the public restroom beside the village parking lot. Check. From there, the trail climbed through another sheep pasture and up a steep grassy hillside. After about 45 minutes, the first glimpse of the lighthouse immediately lifted our spirits. We stopped for a small picnic and took in every angle before venturing onto the narrow ridges beyond it. With steep drops toward the ocean on both sides, the second ridge was not easy for someone with a mild case of vertigo, but a sheltered spot near the end gave us room to settle in and enjoy the view. Reaching Kallur was the pinnacle of the trip. With only sheep and seagulls around us, it genuinely felt like the edge of the world.