Once the sun had finally risen, we were nearing the end of our shift. On the journey up to the Faroe Island, I had a list of tasks and places that I wanted to visit while I was here. The thought of driving around a snow covered island surrounded by steep hills wasn’t one of the tasks I had in mind. So I opted for the bus. After a quick shower, my brother and I walked slowly into the small town. He was decked out in a pair of Lidi hiking boots that he claimed was the best €30 he had ever spent. Strapped to my back was probably 20lbs of camera gear, and strapped to my feet was footwear that needed to re-evaluated, if I was going to manage the full day out wandering the Faroe Islands. We entered what seemed to be the only shoe shop in the town. We spent about 30 minutes in the shop, as I squeezed my odd sock wearing, oversized feet into overpriced boots, and then decided to settle on a pair of waterproof runners called Pole Cats.
With no time to mess about, I kept the new shoes on and placed the old shoes into a bag and gave them to my brother to bring back to the boat. As we made our way to the bus stop, my brother slid on the road, but thankfully my Pole Cats were working their magic. It did cross my mind though, what if I did fall? Would I be able to get back up with this monstrosity strapped to my back?
I got on the bus, armed with a minuscule map and timetable printout from the local tourist information centre. I pointed to the locations and tried to pronounce the destinations. The bus driver informed me that the bus I was getting on wasn’t direct and that I’d need to wait an hour for the direct bus. I decided against this and thought I’d make my way to Nordragota which was the last stop before the bus went to the neighbouring island of Klaksvík. Two stops later I found myself getting off the bus at a service station, thinking where am I. In the distance I could see that there was a village about 15mins walk away, so I made my way towards it.