I headed down to the southernmost island of Suðuroy, where the weather is supposed to be nicer than up north. The weather was atrocious during my bus journey from Leirvík back to Tórshavn so I was hoping it would be true. In wild wind and rain I thought the ferry journey there might be a bit of a vomit run, but the M/F Smyril was a big ship and the run past Sandoy, Skúvoy and the wild islands of Lítla Dímun and Stóra Dímun was smooth.
I got off the ferry and onto a bus to Øravík. Øravík is a tiny settlement, but with great views over the wild north Atlantic, and a campsite and tiny hostel. I set up my tent in gale-force winds and driving rain, and then cooked dinner in the empty hostel building.
From Øravík I got a bus to Famjín on the other side of the island, and walked back across the island over a high windy pass in the mountains. I asked the driver what time the bus was going back to Øravík, in case the weather got too bad for walking and I wanted to pick it up somewhere along the road. He asked me what time I needed it. I liked that. I said I was going to walk over the pass, and he said he’d look out for me on the way.
I saw the bus pass by on the road as I was approaching the top of the island. The weather was OK so I gave him a wave and he carried on towards Øravík. The views were spectacular but so was the wind whistling through the gaps between the hills. I headed down towards the village.
The weather became typically north Atlantic in the evening, and all I could do was sit inside the hostel, listening to the rain battering against the windows. The next day I was up at 5am to catch the 7am ferry back to Tórshavn.