For many, the westerly island of Vágar is their first glimpse of the Faroe Islands: it houses the country’s airport. As beautiful as any of the 18 islands, there are traditional villages to explore, World War 2 history and excellent walking opportunities.
I looked at a brochure about Vágur and was alarmed to read:
‘The locals have a recognizable dialect and charming peculiarities, some of which can be traced to the British occupation during World War ll.’
Other than a liking for bad fish and chips, and possibly Dairy Milk chocolate which is unaffordable in the shops, I didn’t notice any particular peculiarities but maybe one needs more than a few days for them to become apparent!
They certainly have a liking for trolls, who provide a cover story for every sea stack off the Faroes (or Iceland for that matter). It usually involves them trying to tow the Faroes to Iceland but getting caught by the sun, whereupon they turn to stone.
One such on Vágur is the Trøllkonufingur or Witches Finger. We had arrived on a wet miserable day and the easy 1.4 km walk to it was as much as we wanted to do, although the 313 m formation was almost buried in the clouds.
It is just around the coast from Sandavágar, which has quite a striking red and white corrugated tin church, dating back to 1917.
Opposite it, another myth is depicted in a bronze statue of the Shepherd from Sondum, fleeing on a galloping horse. He supposedly stole the dress of a giantess, who then pursued him. He took refuge in the church yard where giants cannot go, but she seized the dress. It tore, leaving him with just the arm which was sufficient for the bishop’s cloak. Look amidst the huge boulders and you will find the naked giantess.
A kilometre up the road, with a lovely sea view from its picture windows, is the Giljanes hostel, run by the extremely friendly and helpful Kristjan. Camping was DDK 100 each, but we were able to use all the hostel facilities so curled up inside, with Felix, a friendly ginger cat for company, and an assortment of world travelers.
Bøur & Gásadalur
Rain eased off in the night although the sun refused to put in an appearance until late afternoon. We set off to explore along the island’s only road which leads to some lovely spots.
It initially follows the edge of Lake Sørvágsvatn. To the south, this ends at the high cliff of Traelanípa and the Bøsdalafossur waterfall. There is a strange optical illusion whereby the lake appears to hang in the air. Annoyingly this farmer is cashing in too with a DDK 200 charge to access the walk – I suggest hiring a kayak to thwart him and enjoying a scenic paddle to the viewpoint!
To the northern tip, you will see the mythical Nykur (or ‘Nix’ ), a horse-like beast in the habit of dragging people to their death in the lake.
Created by local artist Pól Skarðenni in 2017, the stone filled wire cage statue rises from the water, its mane streaming behind it.
The little village of Bøur is totally charming with lots of black turf roofed houses and old boat houses. There is even a tiny ancient mill where one can peep inside and see the millstone and grain chute.
It also has one of the iconic views of the Faroes: the sea stack of Drangarnir (supposed to resemble a dragon) and the jagged islet of Tindhólmur. Behind them is another small islet called Gáshólmur and then the famous Mykines: it has PUFFINS!
Sadly said puffins are now only visible (in season) if you do an expensive private tour, which is how much of the islands are going. Indeed the walk to Drangarnir is now a guided one (DDK 615) but fortunately you get an excellent view of that from the coast road without the effort anyway.
A little further on the road goes into the tunnel for Gásadalur, which was cut off from the rest of the country until it was built in 2004.
We briefly toyed with the idea of following the old Postman’s Path, which leaves just before the tunnel and goes over the mountain to Gásadalur, but decided against it. It is only 2.8 km but it is steep up and even more horribly steep down.
Instead we went through the tunnel and stopped for a picnic on the other side which gave us a wonderful view over the village. We watched idly as the farmer called his bullocks up for feed – and then shot them: it was September, the slaughtering season!
More icons: the 30m high Múlafossur waterfall falls into the North Atlantic with the village neatly framed between it and the mountains. We wandered on around the cliffs, enjoying super views of Mykines. It is possible to walk up the valley into the heart of the mountains but we returned to the village where there is a cafe for coffee and cake, as well as a stall selling potatoes and herbs which might not be so useful.
Fjallavatn Lake
Our final day on Vágur. A good bitumen road leads from Vatnsoyrar towards Fjallavatn Lake, with parking just a couple of kilometres short of the lake. There was once a large Army and Air Force presence in the area during WWll and various cement bases can still be seen. The British actually built the airport which is still well hidden amidst the hills and for a while the island drove on the left.
There is a War Museum opposite the airport in what was once the Sector Operation Room, which was built in 1942-3 as part of an early warning system. Unfortunately it is only open at weekends so we missed it – sadly the history of those days appears to be a bit of a sideshow these days!
It is an easy, fairly flat hike to the lake and one is richly rewarded for very little effort. The scenery is very reminiscent of Scotland with low mountains and moorland, inlaid with bustling streams.
Initially we went right handed, checking out a scenic ruined shepherd’s hut and sheep shed before walking up the right side of the lake. There is a rough bothy about half way along and indeed this remote, northern, unpopulated end of the island is ideally suited for rough camping and multi day hikes with a network of tracks into the wilds.
We walked past the trail turnoff for Slaettanes, which has been abandoned since 1965 bar the odd holiday home and reached the end of the lake.
We had to take boots off to cross the shallow river by a hut but it is worth continuing for a further 2 km to the sea cliffs, visible on the skyline ahead. We worked our way along the boggy ground until we arrived at the lovely Reipsáfossur, a wide waterfall which is channeled into a deep gorge.
Soon afterwards, the river goes on to fall into the sea and there is a wonderful view of high cliffs with scattered cascades, a black sand beach far below littered with driftwood and colourful buoys and a distant headland with huts.
Further up the hill, another waterfall ripples down in pretty tiers. We backtracked from this, following high sheep tracks that led us back to the lake, from where it was easy walking on the gravel edges down its right side to regain our original track back to the car after a 6 hour walk
We finished the day at a viewpoint just to the west of Bøur to watch the sunset. Sheep quietly cropped the grass as the sun slipped slowly away, highlighting Mykines, Tindhólmur and the sea stacks. It was a magical view on a magnificent island.
