Magical Realism On The Faroe Islands

In this Danish archipelago, fantastic landscapes, rare wildlife, and Norse mythology lend a dreamlike quality to everyday life

- Chloe Berge

THE SETTING SUN pours its amber honey down onto a steep trail carved through meadows of emerald grass. I hike up the hillside, reaching a breathless, abrupt stop on a narrow ridge. A view of the tiny, turf-roofed village on Mykines-one of the most remote members of Denmark's Faroe Islands is sketched in shadow in the valley below. On the other side of the vertiginous cliff, there's nothing but the wild, churning North Atlantic, and on the ridge's edge, puffins strut and hop-hundreds of them. Their feathers ruffle in the briny wind as they huddle together, bobbing their bright orange beaks and blinking teardrop-shaped eyes. Spotting so many of them together, cast against the yawning ocean, feels like happening upon a congress of mythical creatures.

Heightening the surreal scene is the utter lack of other tourists, or any people for that matter. Isolated in the North Atlantic Ocean between Iceland and Norway, this string of 18 islands has managed to evade the world's attention (for now) and on Mykines, the permanent resident count sits at just 16. Only accessible by boat or helicopter, the island is mostly cut off from the rest of the archipelago during ice-hardened winters. But from May to August, travellers can venture over for a day trip, or, as my fiancé and I have chosen to do, to stay and spend the night.

After arriving on an afternoon ferry from the island of Vágar, we stopped into The Locals Cafe in Mykines' storybook village, where owner Katrina Johannesen sold us a hiking pass for 34 euros per person. "I was born here, left to study abroad in London, but I had to come back," says Johannesen. Taking in the bucolic scene outside the cafe's windows, it's easy to see why.