Torshavn, Faeroe Islands
It is morning at sea as we approach the Faeroes, calm and almost sunny. We are being accompanied by a squadron of hopeful fulmars: gray with a dash of white, soaring, rarely flapping, one eye always watching, turned our way, looking out for fish-scraps. “Sorry guys, we are not that kind of ship!”
Noon now and we are docking at Torshavn, capitol of Faeroes, pretty in red with grassy green roofs. About 40,000 people here, lots to do. People go there, people go here, in buses or afoot. I head for the botanical garden with other plant enthusiasts after lunch. It is an adventure! We can see where we want to be, around the harbor, up the hill, but no straight way. We take narrow winding roads, hidden stairways, some through backyards, with a few confused stares through both sides of a window. We move like snakes, first to the left, then to the right, then we are there, a little garden in a little country.
Native plants numbered and groomed, none very tall here, in the Faeroes, where it can be windy and cold just about any day at all. Spring though, after a cold winter, is warming up the ground, waking up the plants: buttercups, daisies, dandelions, willows, bluebells, primroses and violets all in bloom. This is easy, I’m happy! Throughout town, in pots and in the ground, there are colorful exotics to help cheer up natives and visitors as well: daffodils, tulips, flowering currents and petunias to name just a few.
After dinner we are entertained by the “Chain Dancers,” much more folksy than the name implies.
