The case of the missing puffin

THERE were quite a few mutterings of discontent in Torshavn late on Wednesday night when it became clear that we were not going to get off the Faroe Islands until the next morning at the earliest.

“Nightmare” was one of the softer words that recurred, as the wind howled, the rain teemed down and the hotels did their best to provide another night’s shelter from the storm. I think some of my fellow travellers had a cheek. There are many reasons why the islanders of Ireland have no right to complain about the islands of Faroe, and here are just six of them:

1. The weather. Since we come from a land where, as somebody once said, his two favourite days are Christmas and summer, we hardly have any right to start giving out about a place in which four seasons can be experienced in one day. Or, to be fair, one hour.

2. Bad road signage. A few of us took a spin around the islands on the afternoon of the game - but not until after we’d found ourselves driving past the Avis office in Torshavn for about the fourth time coming from opposite directions. So, navigation can be a bit tricky to master in the Faroes but, to the best of my knowledge, the relevant local Ministry has no plans to restrict signs on certain islands to ancient Norse as a jolly jape to further confuse the tourist.

The Faroese also boast some spectacular road tunnels, but they’re not so excited about these feats of engineering that they feel obliged to name them after people. (See ‘Lynch, J’. Also ‘Port’).

3. The price of drink. ‘Nuff said.

4. The capital Torshavn has a creaking football stadium with a bumpy pitch. Spot the difference.

5. Dependence on potatoes as a staple food. The Faroese import all their fruit and vegetables bar the humble spud. So when the North Atlantic storms stop all traffic in and out of the islands, it’s potatoes with everything. Or even potatoes without everything. Remind you of anywhere?

6. The puffin as a national emblem. In the Faroe Islands you can’t escape these vaguely comical little fellers with their black and white plumage and hooked orange beaks - they’re emblazoned on everything from mugs and maps to key-rings and table-cloths. Interestingly, the one place you won’t see them, is flying about above your head. After a few days in the islands, our total live puffin count was... zero. I’m not sure they exist at all. (See ‘leprechauns’.)

Anyway, comparisons are odious. What makes the Faroes special is also what makes them unique, and essentially that’s the combined effect of a staggeringly dramatic landscape with an attitude to living which suggests that there is probably no Faroese for ‘rat race’. Or even ‘rush hour’.

But there is a Faroese expression to accompany giving someone food or drink. We came across it in a little town called Edie, about 50 kilometres from Torshavn. Our guide book had told us there was grub to be had in Edie - which is no small nugget of wisdom to have in a remote neck of the woods where the scattering of human settlements feature no shops or businesses of any kind. Apart from the stuff of life, of course - and that’s mainly fishing.

Unfortunately, Edie’s only restaurant was officially closed for business when we arrived. But the hospitable owner took pity on us and offered to get us some coffee and bread. As the only customers in the place, we briefly wondered if we hadn’t stumbled into something like the TV ad where that nice lady keeps luckless truck drivers locked in the cellar. In the echoing silence of the restaurant, we listened for tapping sounds and maybe the plaintive pleas of a French hack who’d never made it home after their game in September.

Instead, what we got was good coffee and splendid beef and turkey sandwiches, plus the invaluable information that the Faroese say something significant when serving refreshments. We didn’t quite get the translation but presume it was something noble and stirring like: “May the blessings of Thor be on your hot beverage.”

“And what do you say in Ireland when you give someone coffee,” our landlady asked expectantly. We scratched our heads for a bit but the best we could come up with was: “Here’s your coffee, so.” She seemed terribly disappointed.

Final memory of a great little adventure? The pilot of our Atlantic Airways flight back to Dublin yesterday afternoon who apologised for our overnight delay and explained: “Frankly, de vedder was shitty.”

And last thoughts on the Faroe Islands? Amazing place, great people. No ifs or halibuts.