Of course it
was major pandemic time, but there was an idyllic few weeks where
the Faroes opened for visitors, and, as luck would have it, that's
when we had booked the wedding and all associated gubbins. I
remember thinking it would never happen, but on the 19th July we
found ourselves at the airport. Ben was, of course,
characteristically late, and even more characteristically
uncontactable via phone... Mild panic. I've joked recently that I
probably spent 50% of my time with Ben being annoyed at him or
telling him off, and 50% having the absolute biggest laugh. He
eventually turned up, yellow suitcase in tow, citing a missed
alarm and staying up late playing video games, but with the
promise of a very good shirt for the wedding day.
The flight stopped over in
Copenhagen where we had 5 hours to kill. It wasn't clear if we had
to stay quarratined in the airport, or if leaving was allowed. Ben
and Kris were adamant that we make a break for freedom, and so, we
did, picking up beers on the way. Our escape led us to the water
in central Copenhagen and the boys stripped off down to their
underpants and went for a swim in the cool water and supped beers
(and smoked fags) in the sunshine. That feeling of freedom and
being cheeky school kids was something I often felt when I was
with Ben, and it was glorious.
We arrived in the Faroes,
and after a quick day in quarratine pending tests, we were free. I
always joke that the next day was "the best day of my life" (the
joke being that it was the day BEFORE the wedding) but it really
was idyllic. We caught a ferry on the sunniest morning to Mykines,
aka "Puffin Island", a place renouned for its thousands of puffin
inhabitants. Ben was utterly in awe of the landscape and rock
formations, I remember so clearly his face being blasted by wind
as we travelled by boat and his eyes alight with freedom and
adventure, camera in hand, snapping away.
We spent the
day on the island hiking, getting sunburnt and taking about a
million pictures of puffins. I recall taking this snap of Ben and
thinking it looked very "him" with his pink courdroy shirt,
Classic Ben backpack and camera in hand. He was so happy that day.
We all were.
We ended
up in Mykines village and Ben and Kris were adamant they would
swim in the harbour. The water was full of jellyfish and after
asking a local seafarer who didn't speak a lot of English if it
was okay they were told "The Captain says no". This didn't deter
them and as I desperately found ways to distract them I discovered
that there was a local swimming spot further up in the village. We
found it - a waterfall into a dammed pool which was much warmer
than expected, the water having heated up on the black volcanic
rocks as it made its way down the hillside. Back into pants again
for a dip. It was at this point that Ben managed to rip his big
toe nail half off, a fair injury received jumping from the
waterfall into the water. He shrugged it off as Ben did, but on
being unable to get his foot back into his hiking boot, did
suggest maybe we find something to stick the nail down with... All
I had in my bag was a blister plaster, but we both thought
"that'll work" and popped it on.
Later that
evening back at home, and with our developing sunburn increasingly
visible (especially mine and Ben's!) we tried to take the plaster
off, but if you've ever seen a blister plaster, it's like sticky
tape, and it wouldn't come away without the nail in tow (toe?).
Queue me trying to slowly tweeze said plaster off at midnight
before the wedding with a pair of tweezers like a delicate
surgeon!
The next
day was the wedding and we again woke up to beautiful sunshine.
The Gods were truly on our side. We all dressed to go down to the
beach and Ben did indeed have the most splendid shirt. The toe was
by that time leaking, and so, for the day he donned Kris' flip
flop sandals. It was a really strong look!!
Ben was on photography duty and took some fab shots, and we caught pics of him too looking so very "Ben" with jazzy shirt, fag, camera, sunburn, and of course the flip flops with a suit.
The day was idyllic, after the registry office we had champagne and whisky on an old wooden schooner ship in the harbour. We were all giddy with the sunshine and excitement of the day.
Later, we stopped by a small place for lunch. We hadn't booked but were welcomed with more champagne and relaxed taking in the sights. Afterwards, Ben's toe was leaking so much we decided it was probably best to have it looked at, so we ended up with an impromptu hospital visit on the wedding day. It makes for a great picture though!
For dinner we travelled
to a remote restaurant called Koks- a 2* Michelin place where we
were to have a 10 course tasting meal with even more booze,
pre-paid as a set menu. By this time we were pretty pissed and the
pictures mostly stop, but we had such fun.
With each course the
waiters would, in hushed tones, explain what we were eating-
normally a terribly complex series of processes such as "this is
the head of a fulmar, a sea bird, which has been sourced locally
from the sea cliffs, basted in a garlic jus for 24 hours and slow
cooked over hot stones, you eat it by holding the beak" (this was
a real course we ate!) always ending with the same "Please enjoy".
This phrase became a staple joke for the rest of the trip whenever
we cooked each other food and always elicited much giggling.I recall one point of the meal when, after a particularly delicious glass of something, Ben asked for "just a smidgen more".The waiter faithfully poured a drop or two on the glass.... "a little more".... *pause and more poured* ...."a little more"...*pause and more poured very hesitantly* at which point the waiter stopped pouring and said "I will have to charge you sir". Much laughter ensued. Having paid �500 a piece for the meal we all found this terribly funny, but I also remember it so fondly as it reminds me of how Ben enjoyed not only the most delicious things in life, but also winding people up to their limits.
Full and pissed hours later at around midnight we left. The Faroes being so high up and it being July, it was still very light, so we decided to walk an hour through the wild landscape home. This involved crossing through a very long and dark tunnel, through which Ben sung and chanted the whole way through.
At home, we got in the hot tub and as Kris and I slowly sloped off, we left Ben and Ross in the water drinking whisky in the nude. In the morning we woke to the story that the very kind German landlady of our house, had come out at two o'clock in the morning to say in a thick German accent "I think that's enough party party now boys". Ben apparently got up out of the hot tub, starkers, and proceeded very drunkenly to help her (poor woman) to put the lid on the tub. Ben was a tad embarrassed about this in the morning, and couldn't quite remember if he'd also done a Nazi salute at some point, though I have been in touch with her since and she assures me she remembers our stay very fondly!
Waking to hangovers the next day, we decided to go for a long walk and chilled on the volcanic sand of the beach like lizards. There are so many photos of Ben and I on this trip snoozing after too much sun and booze. I love them. At home, Ben cooked a delicious lamb dish (secretly such a good cook!) but also served us a starter of banana, rye bread and sirancha sauce, which he presented with a flourish and a "Please enjoy" to many cackles.
The rest of the trip
involved many more adventures, much booze and dried pilot whale
and blubber, which I know Ben touted to anyone who would take it
when he returned. I have such fond memories and great photos of
the boys sitting around, eating grub and generally being happy. I
had some many wild adventures with Ben, but this is truly one of
my favourites- filled with so much excitement and love and joy.
I'll treasure these memories and the photos Ben and we took
forever.