A Week of Winter Photography in the Faroe Islands
In the heart of the North Atlantic, where cliffs stand like ancient sentinels and the sea breathes with a primal rhythm, a tale of light and adventure unfolded.
Yours truly, alongside the talented Melvin Nicholson, embarked on an exhilarating journey, steering our lenses toward the enchanting landscapes of the Faroe Islands. This wasn't just any photo expedition; it marked the inception of our first joint landscape photography workshop, a week where pixels met panoramas, and camaraderie fused with creativity.
Joining us in this artistic escapade were a band of kindred spirits—fellow photographers whose passion for the craft matched the rugged beauty of the Faroese terrain. Anthony, Kevin, Sebastian, and Ed formed a fellowship of lenses and shutters, each contributing their unique perspective to our visual narrative.
As the wheels of adventure set in motion, our lenses and spirits focused on capturing the elusive dance between light and shadow in this remote archipelago.
This is the chronicle of our week, where freezing winds whispered secrets to our shutters, and the untamed beauty of the Faroe Islands became both our muse and playground. Welcome to the immersive tale of Winter Photography in the Faroe Islands, where every frame tells a story of exploration, collaboration, and the relentless pursuit of that perfect shot.
Day One: Monday - Gásadalur's Winter Embrace
Sebastian's early arrival set the stage for our exploration of Gásadalur's iconic Mulafossur waterfall, bathed in the soft hues of winter light. A fascinating revelation awaited us: the "UR" in Múlafossur signifies water flowing directly into the sea. If the name ended with “á” (like the waterfall: Fossá), the water flows on to land and then in to the sea.
As night fell, the rest of the group arrived, and we made our way to Torshavn, catching the ferry to the captivating island of Suðuroy, our haven for the next three days.
Day Two: Tuesday - Suðuroy's Golden Hours
Late November gifted us with prolonged sunrises and early sunsets, casting the entire day in a soft, painterly light—an ideal backdrop for daytime photography. Beinsvørd mountain, kissed by the first light, unveiled a panorama of sea stacks and soaring peaks.
Akraberg's Lighthouse, a favourite in wild conditions, became a canvas for composition tutorials, preparing the group for the challenges ahead.
Our day culminated at Ásmundarstakkur in the north, where even obscured by clouds, the location's timeless beauty persisted.
The journey through Suðuroy was a revelation, each bend in the road revealing a new facet of the island's rugged charm. From quaint villages to dramatic cliffs, Suðuroy unfolded like a storybook, and our cameras were the eager storytellers.
Day Three: Wednesday - Moody Clouds & Nachos
With sunrise at 09:20, we revisited Akraberg, our photographers now seasoned in the art of composition. Despite low-hanging clouds, the sun endeavoured to pierce through, painting the lighthouse in enchanting hues.
Sumba's unassuming harbour, when viewed over the wave breaker, revealed a captivating scene with Ain Bel waterfall and Beinsvørd's summit. Our exploration of Sumba's harbour extended beyond the visual. As we stood on the wave breaker, the rhythmic sounds of crashing waves, the salty sea breeze, and the distant calls of seabirds painted an immersive picture of Faroese life, a composition that transcended the visual realm.
Post-nacho indulgence, Kikarin á Eggini beckoned. The momentary doubt and winds were rewarded with an explosive burst of light and landscape magic.
Anticipating an impending storm, we opted for a late ferry from Suðuroy back to Torshavn on Wednesday.
Day Four: Thursday - Chasing Sunsets and Scaling Peaks
For the morning, we visited the area known as Gamla Hoyvik. capturing the small island of Hoyvíkshólmur and Nólsoy.
The waves, hitting the coastline with perfect intensity, framed the small island of Hoyvíkshólmur and Nólsoy in a spectacular dance of water and ice.
Leading the way to Norðadalsskar, where the island of Koltur framed by the mountains surrounding Norðradalur unfolded before us.
The goal of the evening was to reach the viewpoint on Sornfelli, but sadly, the mountain road leading to the radar station was icy and full of snow. I parked the van at the bottom of the road, and 4 (out of 5) members walked the mountain road to a nice viewpoint I knew. This ultimately led to us walking right to the very top of Sornfelli and capturing the magnificent view as the sunset.
The conditions were challenging but that made it all more exciting. My guests were in awe with their surroundings.
Day Five: Friday - Bruised But Not Broken
By now, the group was feeling it. We had all been coming down with a cold, and it was starting to hit hard for some.
We decided to skip sunrise and sleep in. After breakfast I took them out to Hvíthamar mountain that sits below the village of Funniningur. This location is always a special one. With its incredible height and surrounding hills, your breath is taken away.
But let’s now add in fresh snow and constantly changing lights. We spent the best part of 3 hours capturing every opportunity as the light and cloud changed.
With this taking up most of our day (and the later breakfast), we ventured south to the village of Kvívík. Chasing what we hoped to be a great sunset. Sadly, as we arrived, the conditions changed, and sadly we missed a sunset. But the night was to take a turn for the better…
There had been grumblings of the opportunity to capture the Aurora Borealis this night. The apps were reading a KP6 but were the islands going to give us a clear sky?
Yes, they did. I took the group back up the mountain road and towards Norðradalur. Here was looking to be the best location. It was not looking good for a while, but then a tester photo looking northwest showed green.
We rushed to a composition, and as we set up, with our own eyes, the Aurora not only started appearing but the green lights were dancing above us!
The next hour, we shot the beautiful display from a number of compositions. Then they started to die off. This is when I called it time to travel back down the road and recharge with hot chocolate at the nearest Effo station.
I know of another location that I have always wanted to shoot the Aurora. A location I have shot the stars and winter sunrise before.
After warming up, we ventured to Leynavatn with the mountain Hamrarnir standing in the middle. The conditions were not ideal. The road was sheer ice and not a pleasant walk, but I reassured them that it would be worth the risk. And I was right…
After 2 hours here, I felt we had enough time to reach one more location. It was a risk as the Aurora started to ease off, but I felt it was worth the drive. So after walking like penguins back to the car, we headed west towards the village of Bøur and just past the village we set up our tripods, aimed them at Tindhólmur, and spent the next hour capturing the last of this magical light show.
Possibly the best night of Aurora Borealis in my life.
Day Six: Saturday - Slippery Trails and Icy Cascades
Slightly broken and shattered from the night before, we skipped sunrise again, slept a bit longer and then headed to Sørvágsvatn / Trælanípa. The path conditions were terrible. The whole route icy. What is normally a 30-minute walk took a little over an hour. But for those who have been here before, know it’s worth the hike.
The light was looking nice and soft on cliffs of Trælanípa and the iconic view of Sørvágsvatn sitting above the sea. But it was the low sunset light hitting the Bøsdalafossur (waterfall) that warmed everyone's cockles.
Carefully walking down the slippery rocks to the lowest vantage point. We were given a stunning sunset. Worth it for the long hike back to the van. Sadly myself and Sebastian lost our footing a few times and hit the deck. A few bruises for the body.
Day Seven: Sunday - Knee-Deep Snow and Speechless Reactions
By now, the cold (and a cold bug) had claimed three prisoners, leaving just myself, Ed, and Sebastian waking at 6 am for breakfast and then heading north to the village of Klaksvík (the second-largest town in the Faroe Islands).
There was a warning the night before that road conditions were not ideal. We set off and took the fastest route through the Norðoyatunnilin (an undersea tunnel with a roundabout).
Within 45 minutes, we were in Klaksvík, but the conditions leading to the car park for Klakkur were terrible.
We thought about ditching the van and walking, but the road was sheer ice from the night before. Instead, I made the decision to head back down (slowly) and head to the amazing cafe Amarant for coffee and cake.
We waited 45 minutes; the sun came up, and I decided to make a second attempt. With luck, the ice started to melt, and not only were we able to drive up the icy road but almost all the way up the track to the car park. Deciding that I would worry about driving down after we had been up the mountain. We unpacked our gear and started the snowy hike to the top of Klakkur.
My estimation was around 90 minutes to the top, but surprisingly, we did it in 60 minutes, and that includes stopping a few times for photos.
The next couple of hours were spent watching the sun rise to the southeast, and the light on the mountains to the north constantly changing. It was an amazing experience, one of the best on Klakkur.
We hiked down, stopping again to take photos, and made it back to the car. The drive back was surprisingly good, with only one section that was sheer ice.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow on the snowy landscapes of Klakkur, we stood in awe of the culmination of a week that transcended expectations.
The Arctic chill, now softened by the warmth of our shared experiences, echoed in our memories as we reflected on the journey. The decision to brave the cold, navigate icy roads, and ascend Klakkur's snowy summit was rewarded with a sunrise that painted the Faroese sky with hues of pink and orange.
Our spirits soared higher than the peaks around us as we captured the fleeting moments that marked the end of our photographic expedition.
Back at Amarant cafe, the Faroe Islands bestowed a final spectacle. The mountains we had photographed just hours ago now basked in a glorious light, as if nature herself was applauding our dedication to capturing her beauty.
Our grumpy moods (because we were not onto of the hill capturing the stunning light), were quickly replaced with the warmth of fish and chips, shared laughter, and the satisfaction of a mission accomplished.
As we headed back to the house, the echoes of the week lingered in the air—the camaraderie of the group, the breathtaking landscapes, and the feast of Faroese flavours—all woven into a tapestry of memories.
In the end, our journey through the Faroe Islands in winter was more than a photographic expedition; it was a testament to the enduring spirit of adventure. The challenges, hard work and surprises all contributed to a week that will forever be etched in our hearts.
The Faroe Islands had unfolded their winter tapestry, inviting us to capture its intricate details, and in doing so, we became part of the very story we set out to tell.
