Vagar

Vagar
Vágar, Faroe Islands
Vágar, Faroe Islands Day 8, 29th June 2014. Vagar. Day score 4 It’s blowing a howling gale and there is a lot of rain between here andIceland. No worries, I walked back up to the airport. I met Malik, a cool guy in the control tower, to discuss plans. He had two friends visiting from Denmark yet he was from Greenland… I could and did learn a lot… I asked and did get Itzy refuelled with reasonably priced fuel and left Itzy to go sit it out in the new departure terminal. I sat on the computer all day trying to catch up with photo’s to send to people still and sort out my full of junk and slow laptop, I stayed there till it about 4pm, watching a lot of blonde haired people arrive, check in and depart on their flights or arrive and depart on the coach to Torshaun the capital town. At 5 o’clock I thought, I better get on this bus too, like all the other passengers, and head for the capital, because if I left tomorrow I would see nothing of the Faroe Isles. It depended how the time table worked, but yes, I would have two hours in town before the last coach came back to the airport for the night. This might be my only chance of different scenery also, and I needed some. The new terminal is nice but nothing to compare with what is outside. The coach took an hour, through beautiful hanging ‘glacier carved’ valleys and deep long tunnels dug under the seas between the islands. Two hours was enough to run round to see the old wooden built town houses with turf roofs and check out the harbour and a Greek run pizza shop. The Greek owner said his shop was a success but he might have to close because there were drunken fights every night from the locals??? And the people were driving him mad having to listen to all their stress and issues? Too proud to talk to fellow Faroese, but they would spill the beans to a foreign shop owner… Back on the coach back through more amazing scenery and deep long tunnels the mainland and Vagar with the airport on it. I watched more passengers check in and disappear on the fleet of Airbus 319s. Blimey it was 10 o’clock. I walked back down to Sorvagur, takes about 5 mins. I dropped off my bag in my wood and metal tin shack of a flat and perused the local port and harbour. Some guy was mowing his grass? It was 11.30??? Back at the flat there was a DVD of Asterix the Gaul, one of my schoolboy comic book heroes. It was in Danish, Dutch, Norwegian, Finish or Icelandic only though. So after 10 mins it was Indian Jones again. Thought for the day: Everything is quite tidy and pure hear, even the people, but they cant finish anything. Every building, hut lawn, drive or road, isn’t quite finished

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