Mykines, Faroe Islands
After a very smooth crossing of the North Atlantic from Iceland we made our first landing in the westernmost of the Faroes on the island of Mykines (literal translation Muck Point, more likely translation Swine Island, from Celtic Muik Innes). Only 12 people live on this island all year round. The two children actually get their school education on their home island. In the summertime, on the other hand, a lot of tourists take the ferry from nearby Sørvágur or take the helicopter from Vágar Island to hike and enjoy the tranquility and peace of this wonderful island.
The Zodiacs took us in to the tiny harbor and a steep path with lots of steps awaited us. Having gotten to land a bit more level, we started on our different walks. Most of us opted for a hike to the nesting grounds of the puffins. After climbing up a quite steep, grassy slope and then downwards again on a very twisted path, hundreds and thousands of puffins were before our eyes, sitting at their burrows, taking off, landing, looking at us curiously, and waiting for us to take their pictures, obviously used to visitors being around. Further down we came to a steel bridge that led us across a deep gorge to Mykineshólmur (Islet of Mykines). On the vertical cliffs of the gorge kittiwakes nested by the hundreds, flying shrieking around us as if they did not like our presence in the least. The long hikers continued their walk past a lot of the islanders' sheep to the other end of the islet, to the end of the world as it looked to us, where the lighthouse stood its guard, tethered down with many steel cords – an indicator of the horrible storms that sometimes rage in wintertime.
On our return we paid the village a short visit, admiring the wooden houses, many of which are built in the typical Faroese fashion with black walls and sod roofs. A little brook ran downhill past cow byres, work sheds and rhubarb patches. A charming little place.
After a very smooth crossing of the North Atlantic from Iceland we made our first landing in the westernmost of the Faroes on the island of Mykines (literal translation Muck Point, more likely translation Swine Island, from Celtic Muik Innes). Only 12 people live on this island all year round. The two children actually get their school education on their home island. In the summertime, on the other hand, a lot of tourists take the ferry from nearby Sørvágur or take the helicopter from Vágar Island to hike and enjoy the tranquility and peace of this wonderful island.
The Zodiacs took us in to the tiny harbor and a steep path with lots of steps awaited us. Having gotten to land a bit more level, we started on our different walks. Most of us opted for a hike to the nesting grounds of the puffins. After climbing up a quite steep, grassy slope and then downwards again on a very twisted path, hundreds and thousands of puffins were before our eyes, sitting at their burrows, taking off, landing, looking at us curiously, and waiting for us to take their pictures, obviously used to visitors being around. Further down we came to a steel bridge that led us across a deep gorge to Mykineshólmur (Islet of Mykines). On the vertical cliffs of the gorge kittiwakes nested by the hundreds, flying shrieking around us as if they did not like our presence in the least. The long hikers continued their walk past a lot of the islanders' sheep to the other end of the islet, to the end of the world as it looked to us, where the lighthouse stood its guard, tethered down with many steel cords – an indicator of the horrible storms that sometimes rage in wintertime.
On our return we paid the village a short visit, admiring the wooden houses, many of which are built in the typical Faroese fashion with black walls and sod roofs. A little brook ran downhill past cow byres, work sheds and rhubarb patches. A charming little place.
