The second expedition lands in the Faroe Islands — eighteen slivers of sea cliff and green in the North Atlantic, where a lake seems to hang in the air above the ocean.
Sheer basalt cliffs drop hundreds of metres straight into the Atlantic. At Trælanípa, Lake Sørvágsvatn sits on the cliff edge and reads, from the right angle, as though it floats far above the sea.
Sea stacks like Drangarnir, waterfalls that pour straight off the land into the surf, and grass-roofed villages tucked into every sheltered bay.
Cool, green and oceanic — the Faroes trade extremes for wind and fast-moving weather. June brings the longest days of the year — near-endless daylight, the settled early-summer window before the autumn fronts, and the best odds of calm between the systems. Roughly 46–54°F.
We plan around the weather, never against it.
The lake above the ocean at Sørvágsvatn, the Drangarnir stacks framing Tindhólmur, Múlafossur pouring off the cliff at Gásadalur, and the Kallur lighthouse on its knife-edge ridge.
Green turf, black rock, white water — and almost no one else.
Exposed, cinematic and a lot of fun — lines strung over sea cliffs and between stacks, above water that never sits still.