Casa Robino

I am totally amazed at people. Even when everything seems to go wrong, someone makes something nice happen. And this time it was nicer than I could ever expect.I left my good company in Århus on Tuesday evening, right after the farewell reception at the summer course (= free food and booze). I had found a very cheap ticket (in Denmark they are called "Orange Tickets") to the border, leaving at 8 p.m., so I took the train and arrived in Padborg at 11 p.m.. Everything was dark and I had no idea where to sleep, but I was confident I'd have found a place. So I started walking in the darkness, until I spotted a sign indicating a forest. I followed it and I arrived close to the woods, probably the same woods that mark the border. After having tried to camp on what was definitely meant to be a grazing pasture for sheep, since when I tried to enter it I got an electric shock (!) from the fence I couldn't see in the darkness, I got to a havekoloni, i.e. a relatively big area of little huts surrounded by heavily cultivated vegetable gardens. I peacefully pitched my tent there, confident that I'd be able to find some water close to the houses the following morning. The plan was to get up very early, so that nobody would report my tent, although very unlikely, and I set my alarm at 6 a.m. Sleeping was hard, and from very hot it got quite cold during the night, and then hot again after sunrise. I almost preferred camping in Iceland, where it is always cold anyway at around bedtime...The following morning I realised the ground where I had pitched my tent was covered with raspberry bushes, so I had a very nice, free breakfast (see pic)! The next thing was to find water, but I could strangely find none around the garden huts. I wondered what those people use to water their plants with. So I started walking back to the village, where I finally found a garden tab and could wash my face and fill in my bottle with precious water. I had checked the map on the internet the day before, so I had a kind of idea where the motorway was, or at leas where Germany was, so I slowly started moving toward it, under the amazed eyes of the local population, who would stare at me as if the had never seen a backpacker before. Well, I guess I really looked like I was going to walk to Germany - but that wasn't too far from what I did.I reached the toll zone, where apparently a lot of trucks had to drive through to declare their cargo. A little beyond it, the road led to the E45 motorway. I reached a good spot where cars could have pulled over, and stuck my thumb up. I waited something like 3 hours and changed spot a couple of times, I shitted in the bushes after I found interesting big leaves suitable as toilet paper, and exhausted, I ate all my food and drank almost all my water. Absolutely nobody had stopped, cars were really few, and truck drivers wouldn't even bother to look at me from their majestic high seats. I started thinking that maybe I should have gone into the toll parking lot and ask the drivers directly, but it was huge there and people would pop up and get very fast into their road monsters, so it was hard to get in touch with them. I hiked back to the village and down into the other ordinary street leading to Flensburg. This hiking took me a long time, but eventually I got there and not long afterwards a nice man with his two young daughters in the back pulled over. We just told each other that we were going to Tyskland, Germany, and that was enough for me. He didn't look Danish, and he told me he was Albanian from Kosovo. We exchanged nice words and meanwhile he kindly brought me to the entrance of the motorway, which was not where he was going. I soon realised that it was impossible to hitch on that spot, and I moved over down on the motorway, reaching what vaguely seemed to be a resting area, but was not. At least there was some room for cars to pull over. Everybody was driving very fast, and I was hoping to be noticed by those who had just entered the motorway and were driving slowlier. Pretty soon a German guy pulled over, and I jumped in. I told him I wanted to go anywhere South, and that I absolutely wanted to get away from that spot. He said he was going to Schleswig, but eventually brought me all the way to Rendsburg. He was an architect driving from one construction site to the other, and on the way he told me the story of his life, his studies, the army, the history of the Bundesland Schleswig-Holstein, and most importantly, his buildings, and eventually his vacation plans. The last site he had to visit was a big bakery, where they were building a new part, which was supposed to turn old unsold bread into animal feed. He talked long to the baker and got out with two sandwitches, cakes and a new water bottle. For me, he said. It was not necessary, I said. Well, free lunch today, I didn't expect it!In Rendsburg I was released at the train station, where I could look at the city map and finally go to a real toilet. I checked the trains, but the train to Hamburg (90km away) cost 20€, and that was a lot. I had little over 20€ with me, and decided to save it for the end of the day, and see what would have happened. I texed Denise that I hoped to be either in Hamburg or in Hannover in the evening, and that she should try to find me an emergency accommodation through CouchSurfing. It was already 2 p.m. and I started walking to the next village, where I could get to the motorway. I walked for almost one hour, under the Channel Tunnel and under heavy rain. Eventually I reached a spot where a fairly laid-back-looking guy in an old car picked me up. He told me he would have brought me 3 km further towards Hamburg, and I accepted, hoping he would have brought me to a better spot. In fact he drove me backwards, 6 km before Rendsburg, but to a spot that was supposed to be very good, he said. There was a big parking lot and the motorway right next to it. The guy told me he ran a milk farm with 1000 cows, and that because of that and his 2 kids and ex-wife, that was what his life would have looked like for quite a long time. Although he was only 10 years older than me, he said he envied me and the years of youth, and that everybody should get going and see the world. I perceived a great emotion flowing in his words. Before dropping me out at the parking lot, he took his wallet out and said he was gonna give me something. At first I thought he wanted to give me a visit card, to let him know how my journey had gone; but then I saw that he was checking his notes, and they were all 50€'s... he shelled out one 50€ note to me, and I said that I couldn't accept it, and seeing that he was damned serious, I said that it was 50€, spinnst du, are you kidding. He yelled nimm es, oder ich steck's dir in den Schuh, take it or I'll stick it into your shoe, so I took it and hugged him. Then he said that he was going to drive to that street later at 6, to see if I had had my luck.I stood on the roundabout for at least two hours, and although the sign pointed at Hamburg, apparently nobody was going anywhere close to there. Two cars bound to Kiel pulled over, that I had to refuse, and nobody else, until at 5 pm a young rollie-smoking kid offered me a ride back to Rendsburg. I asked him to drop me at the station, and there I checked how much the cheapest ticket to Halle/Saale was. 55€. Now I almost had 70€ with me and I thought that that was the best way to spend that money that I had so surprisingly earned, so I bought the ticket and I sat 6 hours in the train, until I arrived in Halle at 0:16, where Denise picked me up and brought home.Well, I didn't expect to find such a few rides in a country with so many hitch-hikers. Although I was in some quite good positions, I didn't talk to any truck driver going long distances, and almost nobody else stopped. But those who stopped were far kinder than I could imagine. These people saved me and showed me a great piece of humanity, and suddenly turned a bad day, where I stood in the burning heat for most of the day and I also got a nice deal of rain poured down on me, into an amazing adventure blessed by luck.Next step: Saturday 25th Denise and I will use the weekend ticket to go as far as the first Dutch town beyond the border, Enschede, will surf a couch there, and the following day we will try our luck on the road to Leiden. It's only 2h by car, and apparently it's very easy to hitch in the Netherlands, so let's see what happens!

See original: Finally Germany, amazing!

Another surprise was awaiting me at my arrival in Denmark! Last Tuesday at around 7:30 am Danish time, the ship Norrøna finally berthed at Hanstholm, a harbour village on the northern tip of the Jutland peninsula. It was already very hot, and it was going to be around 30 degrees Celsius. With all my stuff on my shoulders, plus a nice 6-pack selection of Føroya Bjór (the only Faroese beer) for my dear hosts, I walked up on a hill from the harbour onto the main road. There I immediately found a ride to the small town of Thisted, where I got lost, because I wasn't dropped off on the road again, but at the work place of the girl that gave me a ride. It took me almost an hour and a good load of luck to reach a good spot to start hitching again, because the main road to Århus was far and it was hard for cars to pull over on the street I was on. But a nice lady stopped and asked me if I needed help when I wasn't even lifting my thumb up, but rather trying to reach a petrol station. She brought me to the main road, and another lady who told me she was a breeder of weird little fur animals took me a bit further on the road. Two rides more and I was in Århus at around 1 pm, very nice timing for having lost myself and gone further mostly with small rides. Although it is not as easy to hitch-hike as in Iceland or other places I've seen, people are extremely friendly and helpful. I got rides pretty easily, and enjoying the beautiful and idyllic Jutlandish countryside, where you find nice little wagons with potatoes, berries and herbs on the side of the street, with nobody there, and people can just take what they need and chip the money into a box or a bucket. This is really another world to me. The pastor at the parish where I live now with my friends is a nice 27-years-old girl, daughter of the former bishop, and she was even younger when she was appointed that parish. This is really another world!Anyway, when I got dropped off on Århus outer ringroad, I wanted to reach the road south to Skanderborg, where my friends and hosts live. But the area was further into the city than I thought, so it seemed very hard to find a ride there, and started looking at the bus stops, when suddenly... someone drove pass me shouting "Ciao bello!", and it was my pal Colin with my hosts, who hadn't read my message saying that I was coming that day rather than the following, and were thus going on a road trip to some dolmens and megalithic tombs in the region of Djursland. I joined them and finally reached their home in the evening. Once again, great trip, great whether and great people. Finally all shops have (unexpensive) alcohol (unlike Iceland and the Faroes), people are relaxed and sunbathe in public parks almost naked, and there are even associations of women who advocate that swimming topless should be allowed in swimming pools just as it is allowed on all beaches. This is a really beautiful country. Pictures to come.

See original: Summer time in Århus

The end of my stay here on the beautiful Faroes is coming to an end. Tonight I'm taking the ship further to Denmark, check-in starts at around 10 p.m., and I'll have to spend a day and two nights aboard. Arrival is scheduled on Tuesday at 8 a.m., but it's always a lot earlier and they get you out of bed a couple of hours before.I feel sorry for leaving, because I have done so little here, although I was always around. But I am utterly amazed at these people, they are absolutely the most kind, open, gentle and hospitable that I have met so far. I have already mentioned how I have a whole apartment just for myself, and how kind my host has been to me. Now it's time to tell the rest!On Friday night after the pizza me and my host fell asleep together in our clothes while we were trying to watch an old funny Danish comedy show. It took less than 5 minutes, and that night I slept as if I hadn't been sleeping for years. In the morning I decided to go to Suðuroy, the southernmost island, because of a big festival called Jóansøka. The Faroese have kept all saints' celebrations even after the Reformation, while everyone else in the Nordic countries lost memory of them - apparently, everyone seems to have alsways forgotten about the Faroes: they were part of Norway until the Kalmar Union (the period when all Scandinavian Countries were one kingdom under a Danish king), and when Norway became independent again, they just forgot to bring the Faroes with them, so they remained part of Denmark. And after the Reformation, nobody really thought of travelling as far as here to update the Faroese on saints' festivities. So they kept on their own way, as with ship building - they are the only ones, I was told, that still build ships as the Vikings did.So I took the ferry to Suðuroy at 10:00, and since I was late, my host Eyðbjørn ran with me to the docks and told me to run up through the car deck. During the 2 hours of the trip I spent some time chatting with two Norwegian tourists, reminding myself how nice is to talk Norwegian and how much easier it is than Icelandic. There on the island there was supposed to be a big celebration, but apparently the real party was on the ship, because during all the time of the ferry transfer the locals were consuming huge quantities of Føroya Bjór brought along in boxes, and singing and screaming as if their football team had won an important match (it was 10 a.m. as already mentioned). On land, nothing was really going on, except a canoo race and people drinking like crazy and crowding the only two-three places where you could buy food on the island. Although in Denmark there is no such a thing, the Faroese have their own Vínbúð, or Alcohol Monopoly Store, and as far as I understood, there is only one in the capital, and nothing else. The places at the festival that had a licence to sell alcohol were really few, so that is why so many people brought boxes of beer from home. People were mounting some rollercoasters and stuff like that, and two stages, but nothing was really going on. So I decided to go for a hike in the island. I walked for half an hour to reach a spot were I wanted to start hitch-hiking to Fámjin, the only village on the Western coast of the island. In the free guide I got in the tourist information centre I had read there was a lake called Kirkjuvatn ("church lake") close to it, and since that seemed to be the only one on the island, I wanted to go there. After a couple of minutes with my thumb up, two girls who had recently graduated from high school picked me up. They looked at me as if I was doing the coolest thing on earth, which I didn't understand, because they said they had been hitch-hiking every day home after school because they didn't want to wait half an hour for the bus. Even though they weren't going there, they brought me there anyway, since they had basically nothing to do, and were just going around on mom's car. The village was very nice, although nobody was around, and I thought it'd be hard to be back in Tvørsoyri to take the ship back to Tórshavn, or at least to see if the festival had evolved into something more cultural than getting drunk before noon. I hiked up the mountain and I found the lake when it had become so hot, that I really wanted to bathe. There was also a nice pier from where I could have dived, maybe. Nobody was there, except someone fishing on the very other end of the lake, so far away that I could barely see him. So I took off all my clothes (I didn't have a suite), walked to the pier and into the water. I experienced a great sense of freedom, but also a great cold: the water was coming directly from the springs and it was icecold. Apart from a slight dizziness in my stomach that I experienced about an hour later, bathing for those few seconds was good, because I was really sweating a lot. There are over 20C these days, not even a cloud in the sky or the usual fog, and hiking on the mountains can warm you up a lot! So, after bathing, I hiked up the mountain and to the road, that was higher up than the village. I was about 20km from my destination and there were no cars. To reach a spot where I could maybe find more cars, I'd have had to walk for almost 10km. But after a couple of minutes, an old man pulled over and picked me up. I didn't know what language to speak with him, because he wasn't fluent in English although he understood my simple sentences - but eventually we kind of agreed on Danish and he told me of him being shepherd after many years working in different places, first in Denmark, then on the Westman Islands in Iceland, and 4 years in Greenland, all around the Rigsfællesskabet. Then at some point he stopped and came back to his native place to look after sheep. I listened to him with great interest and almost saw myself as an old man. The next guy that pulled over and brought me back to the "festival" in Tvøroyri didn't want to talk to me at all, but he drove fast and in less than half an hour I was back. I was amazed at how early it was, and how easy it was to hitch-hike, although there were such few cars.Today I went downtown to buy stamps for my postcards, and then I took a bus (the red buses in Tórshavn are free, to incourage people to leave their cars at home!) to a point where I could trek over a hill and then down to the small village called Kirkjubøur. Although the sign said that I needed proper gear, a compass, food and blablabla, and 2 hours one way without breaks, I did it in little over one hour and no problem at all. There I was resting at the small harbour, when an old man that apparently had nothing to do came to me and praised the beautiful whether in Faroese. I understood what he said but didn't attempt a reply in my broken Faroese, so I asked "Bor du her?", do you live here in Danish. He asked if I was Danish and I told him my story. He was amazed and even happier to talk about Iceland, and then started telling me in Icelandic of the time he spent in Iceland doing language research: he, Jóan Hendrik, is a retired linguist, who worked for most of his years on dictionary projects on the Faroese lexicon. With his knowledge of Icelandic, he created lots of new Faroese words from Icelandic models, and collaborated with the local administration in many ways, among others inventing new names for streets of the new neighbourhoods of Tórshavn built in these recent years. We also talked about Gianfranco Contri, the Italian that wrote the first and only Italian-Faroese-Italian dictionary , whom I had met years before in Bologna, invited by my Norwegian professor. Then he brought me home, where he fed me tea, raisin bread and butter, showed me all his books, and then ended up talking about hitch-hiking: he said that when he was studying in Copenhagen, he would hitch-hike from there to Germany, Holland, England up to Northern Scotland, where a Faroese fishing boat would bring him home. Other times. Nú eru allir hræddir, he said in his perfect Icelandic, now everyone is afraid - true, but at least in Iceland and in his country it still works so good! At last, he said he would bring me home with his car whenever I wanted to, and eventually did it, saving me two hours walking over the steep hills.Now, I must cut this about feeling lucky. I am not lucky, when awesome things happen to you every day like this, then that's just the way it is: if luck happens every day and to everyone, then it's no longer luck, because it lacks the "unexpectedness factor". Then I thought about those other few tourists in Kirkjubøur, who came by car, took some pictures and drove away. Nobody has time to stop a bit, rest on the grass, talk to the locals after a good hike on the mountains. And misses all this bliss of a forgotten humanity that invites you home for tea after a 2 minutes chat.

See original: Leaving Føroyar

I had long dreamt about this trip and I knew it was going to be great, but I couldn't imagine that it would've been SO amazing. So many things happened (and it's not over yet!) so I'll try to list them briefly here, waiting to get to Denmark to upload some pics. I'll try to be precise with the costs so that you can see how ridiculously cheap fun can be!Day 1Friday 19/6Brillo and me set off at 7:30 direction Þórsmörk. 3 CouchSurfers (2 Americans and 1 Canadian) gave us a ride to Seljalandsfoss, a waterfall on the road there. We paid 1000kr each for both rental and gas, and there at 11 we took the 4x4 bus that took us to the National Park (3000kr, over 1 hour drive). We ate some of our food there at Húsadalur, bought a map and started hiking. It was an amazing sunny day. We climbed over a mountain (500m) and down to the next stop, Langidalur. We were supposed to cross a river there and reach the mountain pass Fimmvörðuháls in the late evening. There was a broken bridge, and since neither the map nor the guide that we had read mentioned that it was impossible to wade it, we tried to cross in a myriad of different spots until late in the evening. Then eventually, after getting completely soaked in ice-cold water we realized it was impossible, went back to the campsite and asked the warden. He said that indeed it was impossible, and that we could either take a bus or pay 1000kr for getting a ride from him. We said thanks and arranged a meeting for the following morning at 8:30 and went pitch our tents. It was freezing cold during the night, I got wounds in my hands because of washing dishes in far too cold water at the river, and way too tired (and freezing) for being the first day, we went to bed after accidentally waking up a guy at a cabin that told us we had to pay to camp there. We told him that we didn't know and that there weren't any services to pay for there (running water, wc, shower, nothing, oly ground), and he said he didn't care and for this time it was OK.Day 2Saturday 20/6Knowing that it was already starting taking longer time than I had planned, we started the day ignoring the meeting that we had to cross the river, and asking the first guy with the jeep that we found. He drove us across the river for free, and there we went. At around 10 we were at the other stop, Básar, where the warden offered us coffee and asked us where we intended to go. We said we were going up and they got really worried about us: they said we didn't have the proper gear, too bad clothes, and that the weather forecast was just too bad that day. It was supposed to be rainy, maybe even snowy up there, and in case of fog we wouldn't have seen the ladmarks and missed the hut, which would have meant to be completely lost. The weather was more than fine when he was saying that, and although I was scared because of the steepness and all the stuff I was carrying, I really wanted to go before the weather got worse. The guy was so worried that said that he would have given us free camping for one night if we had stayed there that night. But it was 11 am, we were late on our schedule already, and going back to road N1 would have taken too long. So we decided to go, and I must admit that that was the most stupid thing I've done in my life - I was soon extremely tired from carrying all that stuff, I was sweating like a racing horse, it was getting really steep, and later on when the snow started, I was sinking so much into it that every step was like lifting lead with my feet. Eventually we made it though, roughly 6 hours from Básar to the mountain pass: according to the guide, it should have lasted 5 hours from Húsadalur to the hut in the pass (30km). The weather didn't get bad as the guy was saying, but sure it was fairly cold up there, and some paths considerably difficult and dangerous. A couple of times I thought I'd have never made it, but then I tried to relax and sharpen my will. At the hut there was a German guy who became a wardem after many years travelling in the area. There was no water there, no shower, just melted snow for drinking and rain for washing dishes, and some gas and oil to make warm and cook. We paid 2300kr for one night there, and the next day it was fairly warm.Day 3Sunday 21/6The next day we hiked all the way down to Skógar (4h) and reached my friend Piotr from Poland, that works in a restaurant there and we get free food from him. Then we decided to go a pool istead of taking a shower, and we were told that there was an abandoned natural hot pool in the next valley (called Seljavallalaug). We hitch-hiked there (2 Italian guys gave us a ride), spent a couple of hours boiling in the water and then hitch-hike back (curator of the museum in Skógar picked us up, gave us some free tickets but we couldn't go). We got free soup from Piotr and crashed on his two couches.Day 4Monday 22/6We started from Skógar at around 11 and an Icelandic couple gave us a ride after very few minutes to Vík (20min). There we took some pics, ate lunch, spent 2 hours at the pool and bought some groceries (1500kr each). Then we started hitch-hiking at around 3:30 pm at a gas station, but nobody would stop. We waited for 1,5-2 hours until a telephone technician gave us a ride until a place in the middle of nowhere between Vík and Kirkjubæjarklaustur. From there we started getting scared, there were very few cars and nothing else. After 5 minutes though, a nice girl pulled over saying she was going to Skaftafell: I was almost crying for happiness, we were going there too, she was working at an hotel there, and we got there at 7 after more than one hours of Beatles and other nice music and a lot of smokes. There we pitched the tents (750kr at campsite) and went for a walk to Svartifoss and over the glacier.Day 5Tuesday 23/6We were not sure what to do that day because we had no motivation to hike so much after the long hike to Skógar, and guided tours were expensive. But it was raining and the weather was going to be bad. So we packed our stuff and started hitch-hiking in the middle of nowhere at the feet of the Vatnajökull: after 5 minutes an Italian couple stopped, saying that they were going to Höfn (which they could not pronounce, of course). We were also heading there but told them that they should stop at Jökulsárlón first, which we deed. We watched the icebergs floating in the glacial river, and drove over to the probably most boring Icelandic town. There we ate some food and went to the pool to warm up and remove some filth. The swimming pool there is the only real attraction and everything else we saw was pretty much crap. We found a ride back to road N1 and then Brillo and me finally parted. I started hitch-hiking from the middle of nowhere at around 5, and after over an hour I was losing confidence. There was hardly a car and none in my direction. After chatting to some sweet horses from behind a fence, finally a car appeared, and without even asking me where I was going, a guy came out and opened the trunk for accommodating my bag. Instinctively I took it off and put it there, and asked in English "Are you going to Egilstaðir?". He looked at me like I had said something incomprehensible. "With the E...?" he said, and then I thought OK, there is not much else with the E in that direction and anywhere is better than standing there. Then I found out that they were going to camp there before driving to the North, and at 10 p.m. we were at the campsite in Egilstaðir, exactly where I wanted to be and where I could not hope to be that evening. I had a long chat with the guys during and after dinner, we started liking each other and eventually they gave me some very nice beer: "we bought too much and we need to unload it", they said. I thought it was too much good for happening in one day, and went to sleep (campsite 900kr with shower).Day 6Wednesday 24/6One day left until the ferry leaves, and I only had 25km to go to Seyðisfjörður. I had a nice walk around Egilstaðir, the weather was awesome, and then I crashed on the grass close to a bridge. It was too beautiful. I had the whole day for me, no stress and beutiful weather. After a couple of hours of doing nothing I started hiking to the North. After 20 minutes I was at the crossroad to the harbour town. I didn't even have time to put down my stuff and spread my thumb, that a nice lady eating harðfiskur pulled over and drove me to the town in something like 15 minutes. Seyðisfjörður is one of the most pictoresque places in Iceland, really beautiful, especially in that weather. Although it's way smaller than Egilstaðir, the capital of the East, there is much more going on there: there are heaps of concerts, art exibits, and an alternative microcinema (Mini Ciné), that unfortunately was closed that night. Then I went to the ferry terminal to see where it was and get a map of the place. There I met again Adam, an Australian CouchSurfer travelling the world as a self-taught cook since 10 years, that got there hitch-hiking from the North! We had met already in Reykjavík, where he contacted me and asked me to cook something together, and I told him to come to FoodNotBombs. He was with a French-Canadian girl that I had seen in skaftafell before. He proposed to cook that night at the hostel, and also bought a lot of booze. I brought the beer that the Americans gave me, ate like crazy and eventually ended up at a bar at the harbour doing karaoke. I didn't want to sing, but since my glass was somehow always full again for the fist hour, then I started singing, and since I was so good that I was winning more beer, we ended up completely wasted.At the campsite (600kr, chepeast ever) I accidentally met Eyðbjørn, the Faroese CouchSurfer that I had contacted a month before. He soon proved to be an amazingly nice guy, told me he had heaps of Surfers before, which he takes special care of, while refusing a lot more, although his profile was poor and with no references. He was travelling around Iceland with his girlfried on two motorbikes, and also going back home on the ferry.Day 7Thursday 25/6The next day we embarked at around 11, and in the afternoon he took me around on the ferry as if it was his home, bought me coffee, a ticket for the cinema and tons of drinks for himself (G-o-d). the ferry was shaky, but I didn't get seasick. We chatted a lot also with another Norwegian motorbiker, and took several naps in the afternoon waiting for the ferry to arrive.Day 8Friday 26/6After the ferry arrived in Tórshavn he went home to drop his stuff, and then came back with an extra helmet and brought me home. Then we had breakfast together with Danish cheese. Then he brought me to his parent's house, that will be the "couch" that I'll be surfing for these three days, since his parents are away on holiday. Then he showed me around, we took the ferry at 8 to Nólsoy, and hiked around until 1pm. The weather is ultra awesome and I am getting seriously sunburnt: it's so sunny that it's almost annoying to walk on the street, almost like Italy! Tonight I'm baking pizza for my host, and then we'll have some Føroya Øl, the local beer, which can be very nice. Tomorrow I'll probably go to a festival in Suðuroy but right now the priority is getting some rest before embarking again on Sunday night. Wow!

See original: 8 days Reykjavík - Tórshavn