Torshavn, Faroes

Today was strange. I knew I needed to wake early so I did - 4am. Knowing we would dock at 5 I wasn't in any hurry to get up, but then - the curse of the deaf traveller- the tannoy - incomprehensible in any language - started up. It could have been calling us to prayer, but more likely was telling us to wake up. I dressed quickly and warmly, loaded camera and binoculars and made for the top deck.

Expecting a cold grey scene, I was exhilarated to see  an orange sun rising in a near cloudless sky, and there before us -  the higher buildings picked out in gold -  the lower ones sill in shadow,  was Torshavn, and all round it the green and rocky slopes of Streymoy, the largest of the Faroe Islands.

We, the brotherhood of the early risers, watched in awe as the captain or pilot or driver or whoever was in charge of the operation, slowly and carefully docked the ship - sideways! The space available didn’t look any longer than the ship and yet this master of the thrusters, bow and aft, having lined it up parallel to the dock side nudged the huge ship slowly but confidently into place. Docking complete we could then get to our vehicles, and I have to admit it was a bit like coming home to slide open the side door, turn on the lights and make myself a cup of tea! At last I could sort out a change of underwear, get a cushion to rest my head on at night, and really think through what I would need for the 8 or so hours in the town and then the last night at sea. I spent far too long sorting out kit and I still got it wrong! In the end it was 6am and time for breakfast so I stoked up with small portions of meusli, yoghurt, fruit, eggs, crispy bacon, fresh roll, jam and two cups of coffee.    

From my guidebook reading, I was ready to love the Faroes but I did not know what to expect of Torshavn. My plan was to walk up through the town on the north side which looked like the way to open country and the shore, where I might get a sample of the bird life. Taking this route also opened  up all sorts of back streets and byways, where very modern industry lived alongside the local wild and not-so-wild life. Also too a reminder that there are many in the world who hate the Faroes for killing whales. I'm agnostic on that.

Everything is smart and neat, the houses mostly timber or metal clad and painted and lots of charming gardens, little parks with statuary and well-endowed public buildings.  At the edge of town are industrial and trade buildings, plenty of new cars, no dirt, and a palpable air of prosperity and economic growth. Where you see large shops devoted to paint, you know that there is money being spent on houses. From what I read in the guidebook it seems the Faroes have never had it so good. It has the air of a hard working egalitarian society, but I'm pretty sure the money doesn't come from tourism, so when I can get some internet without having to pay a king's ransom, I'll do some more research.