16 Fun and Fascinating Facts That Will Make You Fall in Love With Budapest
Planning your next getaway? Add Budapest to the top of your list. This city has something for every kind of traveler—bubbling thermal baths, dramatic architecture, underground caves, quirky bars, paprika-infused food, and stories that go way beyond the tourist brochures. It's one of Europe's most underrated gems, and once you're there, you'll wonder why it took you so long.
From steamy spas to secret tunnels, here are 16 fun, weird, and wonderful facts that will make you want to book that flight immediately.
Let's start with the nightlife. Szimpla Kert, located in the Jewish Quarter, isn't just a bar—it's a cultural icon. This quirky spot was rated the #3 best bar in the world by Lonely Planet and is the top bar in Budapest. With mismatched furniture, surreal décor, hookah pipes, and dirt-cheap beer, Szimpla feels more like a wild house party in a post-apocalyptic art gallery than a typical bar. You'll find street food stalls, live music, and plenty of locals hanging out. Trust us—you'll never forget your night here.
Surprise! Budapest is the result of merging Óbuda, Buda, and Pest into one city in 1873. Originally called Pest-Buda, the name was later flipped to Budapest, probably because it sounded better. The majestic Széchenyi Chain Bridge was the first to link the hilly Buda side with the flat Pest side across the Danube—and it's still one of the most iconic sights in the city.
If you're thinking of exploring both sides of this vibrant city, take a look at some top-rated Budapest hotels to find the perfect spot to stay, whether you're into boutique charm or luxury relaxation.
The maddening little puzzle cube that's stumped millions? You can thank Budapest for that. The Rubik's Cube was created by Ernő Rubik, a local architect and professor. It became a worldwide craze in the 1980s and remains one of the best-selling puzzles of all time. And yes, most of us still can't solve it.
The Dohány Street Synagogue is the largest synagogue in Europe and the second largest in the world. It seats 3,000 people and was built between 1854 and 1859 in a stunning Moorish Revival style inspired by Spain's Alhambra. It's not just a place of worship—it's a moving monument to Hungarian Jewish history.
You wouldn't guess it from the shiny modern stations, but Budapest's metro system is the oldest in continental Europe, operating continuously since 1896. Only London's is older. Also, a pro tip: if you're 65+ and an EU citizen, you ride public transportation for free—trams, buses, even riverboats.
After the fall of communism, many buildings in Budapest were left abandoned. Locals began transforming them into 'ruin pubs'—creative, gritty spaces filled with found furniture, graffiti, plants, and weird art. These spots became hubs for artists, musicians, and partiers. Now, they're a must-see feature of Budapest nightlife.
Hungarian is one of the hardest languages in the world, and it's not even Indo-European. Unlike its neighbors, it shares no real roots with Slavic, Germanic, or Romance languages. Its closest relatives are Finnish and Estonian, but even those links are distant. Linguists still puzzle over its mysterious origins.
Both St. Stephen's Basilica and the Hungarian Parliament Building stand exactly 96 meters tall. This height isn't random—it's a symbolic reference to the year 896, when the Magyars founded the Hungarian state. No other building in the city is allowed to be taller.
In Hungary, paprika isn't just a spice—it's a lifestyle. Locals reportedly consume over 500 grams of it per year, per person. While the pepper it comes from was imported centuries ago, paprika was refined and turned into a national treasure in Budapest. Visit the markets—you'll see it in every shade of red.
Before Budapest became Hungary's political heart, the capital was Esztergom, a charming city on the Danube that still holds spiritual significance. Today, it's best known for its impressive basilica and as the birthplace of the country's first king, St. Stephen.
Thanks to geothermal activity, Budapest is built over more than 200 caves and tunnels. One of the most fascinating is the Budavári Labirintus, a 6-mile-long cave system beneath Castle Hill. It's been a prehistoric shelter, medieval prison, WWII hospital, and Cold War command post. Today, you can tour it—torchlight recommended.
Budapest is rightly called the 'City of Spas.' It boasts the highest number of thermal springs of any capital city. Iconic bathhouses like Széchenyi, Gellért, and Király use mineral-rich waters said to have healing properties. And in summer? Join a 'Sparty'—a full-on DJ party in a 100-year-old bath.
Inside Gellért Hill, you'll find the Sziklatemplom, or Rock Church. Founded in 1926 by Pauline monks, the chapel is literally carved into the side of the mountain. It's one of Budapest's lesser-known religious sites, offering a quiet contrast to the city's more grandiose churches.
The Hungarian Parliament Building is the third-largest of its kind in the world. And it's immaculately maintained—thanks to a team of 150 people who clean, repair, and restore everything from roof tiles (scrubbed twice a year!) to flags that are constantly inspected and replaced. Now that's attention to detail.
As you wander through the city, look closely at older buildings. You might notice small round marks—those are bullet holes from the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, when citizens rose up against Soviet oppression. Many of these scars remain untouched as a quiet tribute to the city's fight for freedom.
In the Buda hills lies the tomb of Gül Baba, a 16th-century Turkish dervish who died in 1541. His octagonal tomb, built between 1543 and 1548, became a place of Islamic pilgrimage and is considered the northernmost holy site in the Islamic world. It's a peaceful spot with stunning views of the city.
Whether you're soaking in a thermal bath, dancing in a ruin pub, exploring caves, or reading bullet holes on centuries-old walls, Budapest reveals itself layer by layer. It's a city of contrasts—elegant and gritty, modern and ancient, relaxing and electrifying—all at once.
So next time you're deciding between the usual European hotspots, remember: Budapest doesn't just tick boxes—it breaks the mold.
Need help planning your itinerary? I've got you covered.
TIME BUSINESS NEWS
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
16 minutes ago
- Yahoo
Measles holiday warning as cases rise in Europe
Families travelling abroad this summer on holiday or to visit relatives are being warned about the rise in measles cases in Europe and other regions. Measles infections in Europe are at a 25-year high, while cases are also surging in countries such as Pakistan and Nigeria. Childhood vaccination rates in the UK that offer protection against measles, mumps and rubella (MMR) are still a long way below the recommended 95% uptake, with the lowest regional rates found in London at just over 73% vaccinated. The UK Health Security Agency is warning holidaymakers to make sure they are up to date with their vaccinations and stress that it is never too late to get vaccinated. The UKHSA's latest data on measles infections shows that an outbreak is continuing in England. Some 109 cases were confirmed in April and 86 so far in May. These cases have mostly been in unvaccinated children aged 10 years and under. London has reported almost half of all cases in the past four weeks. Dr Vanessa Saliba, consultant epidemiologist at the UK Health Security Agency, says the rise in cases in England reflects what is happening abroad - and that's a concern as the summer holiday season gets going. "It's essential that everyone, particularly parents of young children, check all family members are up to date with two MMR doses, especially if you are travelling this summer for holidays or visiting family," Dr Saliba said. "Measles cases are picking up again in England and outbreaks are happening in Europe and many countries with close links to the UK." Measles spreads very easily and can be a nasty disease, leading to complications like ear and chest infections and inflammation of the brain with some children tragically ending up in hospital and suffering life-long consequences, Dr Saliba added. "Nobody wants this for their child and it's not something you want to experience when away on holiday." The decline in vaccination rates in the UK - particularly since the Covid pandemic - has been mirrored in other countries, especially in Europe. The World Health Organization and UNICEF reported 127,350 measles cases in the European Region in 2024 - double the number of cases reported during the previous year and the highest number since 1997. This year has seen outbreaks in several other European countries popular with UK holidaymakers, including France, Italy, Spain and Germany. The WHO has also reported that Romania, Pakistan, India, Thailand, Indonesia and Nigeria currently have among the largest number of measles cases worldwide. There has been a big push to improve MMR vaccination rates across the UK, but Dr Amanda Doyle, national director for primary care and community services at NHS England, says there is still a lot of work to do. "Too many babies and young children are still not protected against the diseases, which are contagious infections that spread very easily and can cause serious health problems. "MMR jabs are provided free as part of the NHS routine immunisation programme – and I would encourage all parents to act on invites or check vaccination records if they think they may have missed their child's vaccination." Health experts say that anyone, whatever their age, who has not had two doses of the MMR vaccine can contact their GP surgery to book an appointment and that it is never too late to catch up. Measles is a highly contagious disease which is spread by coughs and sneezes. Common symptoms include: high fever sore, red and watery eyes runny nose coughing sneezing Small white spots may appear inside the mouth. A blotchy red or brown rash usually appears after a few days, typically on the face and behind the ears, before spreading to the rest of the body. It can be harder to see on brown and black skin. Measles normally clears up within seven to 10 days. However, it can lead to pneumonia, meningitis, blindness and seizures. Babies and young children, pregnant women and those with a weakened immune system are at increased risk. Getting it while pregnant can lead to stillbirth, miscarriage or babies being born small. Measles can be fatal, but this is rare. Parents of baby with measles in vaccination plea 'Concerning' measles rise prompts warning Major MMR drive among teenagers and young adults
Yahoo
16 minutes ago
- Yahoo
Norway to introduce tourist tax amid record visitor numbers and overtourism concerns
Norway is set to become the latest European destination to introduce a tourist tax to combat concerns about rising visitor numbers. Lawmakers approved the new levy on Thursday, which allows municipalities to introduce a 3 per cent tax on overnight stays in 'areas particularly affected by tourism'. The law allows local authorities to apply the tax at their own discretion, and it will be added to accommodation charges. Authorities will also be allowed to adjust the percentage based on the season. The funds raised by the tax will be used exclusively to improve tourism infrastructure projects that benefit both visitors and local people. Municipalities will have to demonstrate that their facilities are inadequate and have their plans approved by the government to spend the funds. Cecilie Myrseth, Norway's minister of trade and industry, said on social media that her government had reached a 'historic agreement' to introduce a tourism tax that was 'in line with what they have in the rest of Europe'. Related Ibiza caps tourist cars this summer: Here's what you need to know before you travel Planning a holiday in Europe this year? All of 2025's tourist taxes, bans and restrictions explained The country is the latest in a string of European nations introducing or increasing visitor levies to tackle the growing problem of overtourism. A tax may also be applied to cruise ships that make stops in the country, particularly in areas that are most affected by overtourism. As tourists increasingly choose cooler, northern European destinations to get away from the heat, Norway has experienced a boom in visitor numbers. Last year, a record-breaking 38.6 million people booked accommodation in the country. That includes more than 12 million overnight stays by foreign tourists - a 4.2 per cent increase from 2023. Some previously quiet destinations have been overwhelmed, like the Lofoten islands, where eye-catching images of hiking trails posted on social media have led to an influx of visitors. With a population of 24,500 people distributed across several small towns and villages, keeping up with the cost of all these new visitors has been hard. A recent survey by industry organisation Norwegian Tourism Partners found that 77 per cent of people in Tromsø, in northern Norway above the Arctic Circle, thought there were too many tourists there. Visitors have been drawn by the Northern Lights, wildlife excursions, Sami cultural experiences and what the city itself has to offer. Related Svalbard, Chios, El Hierro: How these European islands have successfully avoided overtourism Spain orders removal of more than 65,000 Airbnb tourist rentals it says violate regulations The increase in tourism has caused tension with local residents across Norway as infrastructure has struggled to keep up with the boom. Facilities like public toilets and car parks have been overwhelmed in popular destinations. Some residents have even reported cases of people using their back gardens as toilets, and bemoaned the increased traffic clogging up Norway's roads.
National Geographic
5 hours ago
- National Geographic
Exploring myths, legends and island life at the edge of the Atlantic
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). In the shallows of Lake Sørvágsvatn stands a horse. A brisk wind has sent ranks of tight little waves across the water and they slap at his flanks with monotonous persistence. Behind him, the hills are smothered by dark clouds, the weakest hint of sunlight struggling to break out beneath them. Perhaps in protest at the weather, the horse has reared up, forelegs raised, head pulled back. But all is not what it seems. Drawing closer, ambling down the pebble beach towards the shore, I find not the flesh and bones of a disgruntled stallion, but a jumble of rocks and earth packed within a steel, horse-shaped frame. A sign chiselled into a moss-flecked boulder tells me that this is the Nix — a creature that emerges on to land in search of victims to enchant. Should he trick you into touching him, he'll carry you off to the bottom of the lake, and there you shall stay forever. There is, however, a chance of salvation — if you're quick enough. 'With the Nix, if you say his name before you're in the water, he'll disappear,' Elin Hentze tells me, as we stand braced against a particularly vigorous gust. 'The spell is broken, he loses his force.' The Nix emerges on to land in search of victims to enchant. Should he trick you into touching him, he'll carry you off to the bottom of the lake, and there you shall stay forever. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes We're on Vágar, one of 18 islands that make up the Faroes, a self-governing region of Denmark that lies geographically closer to Iceland than the European continent — and in looks is closer to the fantasy lands of The Hobbit or Game of Thrones. It's a place where dark, towering cliffs rise out of the frothing Atlantic; where meadows sweep up and up to end at shard-like pinnacles of rock; and where waterfalls tumble sideways, caught on the wind. If ever folk tales were to take root then, it's here, in this mysterious archipelago at the far reaches of Europe. With Elin as my guide, I'm in the Faroes to unearth some of its stories, crisscrossing between islands in search of the giants, spirits and trolls that are said to dwell on them. Sørvágsvatn proves rich hunting ground. Leaving the Nix to its damp stake-out, we skirt the lake, passing little plots of land divided by dry-stone walls. Behind them, the Faroes' particularly straggly breed of sheep chew determinedly on the buttercups. Abandoning the car, we take a muddy path along the shoreline, hopping across shallow streams that bubble down from the surrounding slopes, and stopping to pick tiny blueberries that grow by the track. Elin — encased in waterproof hiking gear, long hair tucked beneath a bobble hat — tells me, 'Huldufolk are said to live in this area, under the rocks and in the grass. They come out to dance; there are many stories about men who are too curious about them and are taken.' The Faroes share the idea of huldufolk (hidden folk; nebulous creatures that are neither human nor elf) with Iceland. The tales likely came over with Norse settlers who arrived in both regions in the ninth century, and traded with wool, furs and fish over a millennium. The ocean that brought them here is soon revealed as the path climbs upwards, disappearing into dense fog, before we emerge at the top of the Trælanípan Cliff. The furious surf of the Atlantic thrashes against the rock 460ft below, grey-winged fulmars coming into land at barely perceptible ledges in the basalt. A dish of salt cod is served at Fiskastykkið restaurant on Vágar, one of 18 islands that make up the Faroes. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes The Faroe Islands are a place where dark, towering cliffs rise out of the frothing Atlantic; where meadows sweep up and up to end at shard-like pinnacles of rock; and where waterfalls tumble sideways, caught on the wind. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes Behind us, Lake Sørvágsvatn seems separated from the ocean by the slimmest sliver of land, creating an optical illusion that it floats above it. Absorbed by the spectacle in every direction, we watch as clouds churn and froth across the sky, creating shifting patterns of sunlight on the water, and the wind threatens to throw us to the waves. 'Long ago, so many people were lost at sea and in nature in the Faroes,' Elin says. 'Perhaps that's why they needed to believe in myths — you feel that there's a force bigger than you here and you need some explanation for it.' Proving the adage that truth is often stranger than fiction, however, she tells of the Viking-owned slaves who were thrown to their deaths at Trælanípan when they were too old or sick to be useful, and of a woman who hiked here with her husband more recently, and was never seen again. The seal woman & the spy Humans are thought to have lived on the Faroe Islands for well over two millennia. It's only in recent years that they've begun to tame them. Where tiny settlements of turf-roofed houses were once only accessible by boat or by a long, treacherous yomp over wild landscapes, tunnels now burrow under the sea and carve through mountains to connect them. One — the 6.8-mile Eysturoy Tunnel — even has a roundabout in it, 620ft beneath the waves. The following morning, I zip between islands through these underwater passageways on the drive north. Before leaving Vágar, I stop at Trøllkonufingur, a column of basalt as tall as the Eiffel Tower. Legend has it that Iceland sent a troll witch to steal the Faroes — but, before she had a chance to get to work, she was turned to stone by the rising sun and sank beneath the sea, with just a single finger remaining above the water, pointing upwards. Ignoring her directions, I head downwards, taking tunnels for as long as I can before they run out — four island-hops later — at the town of Klaksvík on Borðoy. Here, the ferry takes over. A light drizzle falls as the vessel creaks out of the harbour and steers north east through the mist to Kalsoy. Passengers greet one another as old friends, sitting at formica-topped tables to chat over cups of coffee. 'The ferry was always the meeting place for everyone — you miss that when it's gone,' Elin tells me with a shrug when I ask if locals feel more connected now it's so easy to travel between islands. 'In the old days, when people came to a place, they stayed for a week. Now there are roads and tunnels, they just pass through.' In the island of Kalsoy, this hard-to-reach patch of land formed the backdrop of the final moments of the James Bond film, No Time To Die. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes Linked to its neighbours by a moderately infrequent ferry service, the pencil-shaped island of Kalsoy retains that out-of-time feel. A single road runs north to south, and sheep and geese are the most conspicuous users of it. We take it to its furthest point, swooping down the mountains in a series of hairpin bends to end at Trøllanes. 'It means Troll Peninsula,' Elin says as we stroll past the village's stone houses, home to just 13 residents. 'It's said it was visited every 12th night by trolls who lived in the surrounding mountains, and the villagers would run away as they drank and partied.' Their torment ended one night when an old woman who was too weak to run called out for Christ in fear — the trolls left and never came back. Sat in the bowl of a valley, with mountains looming on all sides and giant boulders littered across the slopes, Trøllanes is fertile ground for a tall tale — I'm almost convinced an unseen menace waits and watches above the village, ready to rush in under cover of nightfall. 'It can be so impressive and overwhelming here, particularly in winter,' Elin says. 'It makes it easy to believe in dark stories.' We leave the vanquished trolls of Trøllanes to climb up and over a ridge north of the village, following a faint trail as it weaves through the hills and around patches of bog. After an hour, the land abruptly runs out and, it seems, we find ourselves at the very edge of the world — with nothing but wheeling sea birds and the dark, rolling ocean between us and the North Pole. Just visible to the east are two sea stacks: the remnants, it's said, of a witch and a giant who, like the troll witch, came to steal the islands and were turned to stone in the dawn light. The narrowest thread of a path tacks along the cliff edge in their direction, ending at a red-and-white stone lighthouse. It's a balancing act to follow it, with the wind primed to whip me off into oblivion at the slightest misstep. I wouldn't be the first to meet an unpleasant end here. A little beyond the lighthouse, up a slope that eventually spears skywards and requires some puff to tackle, lies a modest basalt headstone. 'In memory of James Bond,' it reads. '1962-2021.' Actor Daniel Craig might never have set foot on Kalsoy — filming his scenes on green screen instead — but this hard-to-reach patch of land formed the backdrop to the spy's final moments, courtesy of a missile strike, in No Time To Die. This very modern fable is the reason many visitors make their way to Kalsoy these days, but the island has a long association with another tale with a violent ending: the Kópakonan. Having paid my respects to 007, I meet her down on the shore in Mikladagur, a village south along the coast from Trøllanes. She stands 9ft tall with her back to the sea, has a distinctly blue pallor and is half-naked — with what look like skin and flippers draped over the rock beneath her. 'This is one of the best-known tales in the Faroe Islands,' Elin explains as we admire the bronze statue. She tells me that, once a year long ago, seals would come out of the water and shed their skins on the beach, taking human form for a night of revelry. During one of these gatherings, a villager stole a seal woman's skin and she was forced to stay with him and bear his children. She was eventually able to reclaim her skin and flee back to the sea, falling in love with a bull seal and raising pups. In a jealous rage, the man killed her family; consumed with grief, she set a curse on him and his progeny for all eternity. 'Still today, if a man from the village drowns or falls from the cliffs,' Elin says, 'it's blamed on the curse.' There are versions of the seal woman's story across the North Atlantic, from the Orkneys to Greenland — likely evidence that the tales were carried back and forth by fishermen and traders. But it has a particular resonance in the Faroes, where it's known by every local, and it holds special value in Mikladagur. Rumour has it that some villagers even have webbed hands. Up steep concrete stairs above the Kópakonan, Café Eðge has prime views of the statue and the seals that bob near it come autumn — the perfect setting to recount the haunting story. Actor, playwright and artist Eyð Matras did just that, performing her drama, The Seal Woman, at the cafe throughout the summer of 2021. "If a man from the village drowns or falls from the cliffs,' Elin says, 'it's blamed on the curse [of the seal woman].' Photograph by Jonathan Stokes James Bond's burial site is just beyond the working lighthouse on Kalsoy. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes Catching the last ferry back to Klaksvík, I call in on her at her home, a handsome wooden house overlooking the harbour, built by her grandfather in 1899. With her little dog Vanya snuffling at our feet, the candles lit and a spread of local breads and cheeses on the table, we sit down to chat. 'When we tell oral stories like the seal woman, it's first for entertainment — it's for gathering around the fireplace, keeping the darkness of the night at bay,' Eyð explains, pouring the coffee. 'But it's to protect people, too. It's to keep people away from the sea and off the cliff edge. It's a warning.' She fetches some of the costume pieces she wore for The Seal Woman, including a woollen cape with dark threads coming out of it like seaweed and red shoes to represent blood. Her modern adaptation is a monologue set to music, and she recites some lines for me, her voice rising and falling in a steady, captivating rhythm. 'I think, nowadays, we see Kópakonan as a political story about women, self-realisation and having ownership over your own life,' she says, finishing her performance to my enthusiastic applause. 'But it's also about the wildness in her and in nature. That's not only for women but everyone — we should listen to the wildness inside ourselves. We come from it.' The artist & the farmer The Faroese appear particularly well-attuned to listening to the wildness within, and expressing that wildness through every medium possible; storytelling, it seems, is in their blood. The following morning, I make my way through the streets of Tórshavn to join another artist adding a new layer to the islands' timeworn tales. The quaint capital of the Faroe Islands, Tórshavn is a pretty muddle of black-tarred wooden buildings, some with turf roofs, and quiet harbour. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes - - The capital's old town is quiet, with just the odd dog-walker out and about on its cobbled alleys. It's a pretty muddle of black-tarred wooden buildings, some with turf roofs, most with candlesticks in the windows. The Faroese government still has its parliament here, on a peninsula jutting out into the Atlantic, as it has for 1,200 years. On a whitewashed wall curving around a winding lane sweeps a giant mural — of flying squid, tusk fish, whelks and a bounty of other sea creatures found off the islands' coast. I meet the man responsible for it, Heiðrikur á Heygum (or simply Heiðrik), in a cafe overlooking the boat masts of Tórshavn's harbour. Dressed in black, with delicate tattoos of native flora running up his arms, Heiðrik opens a portfolio case to reveal page after page of watercolours — there's a sinister elfin figure perched on a rock in the moonlight; a lone horse with a serpent's tail and glowing eyes standing in the water; a long-haired man with a tall crown and peevish expression sitting on a throne. They're all part of the artist's latest project — an illustrated book of the Faroes Islands' myths and folklore. 'Writing down the stories is new,' Heiðrik says, leafing through the work. 'Traditionally, they were shared through song, and an oral story is like Chinese whispers — it changes every time you tell it. I'm just another reteller, the latest link in the chain.' Heiðrikur á Heygum's latest project — an illustrated book of the Faroes Islands' myths and folklore, is set to be published at the end of the year, with versions in Faroese, Danish and English to bring the tales to a new audience. Photograph by Jonathan Stokes The plan is to publish the collection at the end of the year, with versions in Faroese, Danish and English bringing the tales to a new audience. Until then, visitors must make do with reading the stories in the landscapes that inspired them. 'Anywhere there's nature and the sea,' says Heiðrik, carefully putting away the pages, 'that's where you'll find legends in the Faroe Islands.' I spend my last evening discovering that the tradition of oral story-telling Heiðrik is magicking into print is still very much in rude health. The sun is just starting to set when Anna and Óli Rubeksen invite me into their home in the tiny village of Velbastaður, 15 minutes' drive from Tórshavn. Enormous picture windows line one side of the farmhouse, opening to views of grassland tumbling down to the pearly waters of Hestfjord and, beyond, to the tiny island of Hestur (population 15). 'Come, sit,' says Óli, gesturing to a long table, 'and I'll tell you our story.' Ninth-generation sheep farmers, the Rubeksens have been running supper clubs here since 2014, opening their house to up to 30 guests at a time. 'We try to be like a cultural exchange,' says Óli as sheep dog Mia leaps on to his lap. 'The magic for us is when everyone interacts with each other.' Named for heimablídni, a Faroese tradition of 'home hospitality', the dinners are a crash course in local ingredients and cooking, with dish after dish appearing on the table over the course of several hours: rye bread with salted mutton; carrot and vegetable soup; roast lamb with caramelised potatoes and red cabbage. With candles lit against the gathering gloom, conversation flows, leaping from the Norse language to rhubarb, sheepdog-training to Viking hygiene. Our attention is continually pulled towards the window, even when there's nothing to see but our own reflections staring back at us. 'You can understand in the old days when there was no electricity,' says Anna, peering out, 'you would sit and imagine so many things out there.' For now, feasting and company have tamed the Faroe Islands. But soon I must take my leave and head back out into the night, and everything looks different in the dark. Getting there & around Atlantic Airways flies direct from Gatwick to Vágar twice weekly from the end of May to the end of August; and from Edinburgh twice weekly from March to December. The rest of the year, fly via Copenhagen with Atlantic Airways or SAS. Average flight time: 2hr10m (Gatwick); 1hr35m (Edinburgh) A hire car is your best bet for travelling around the islands, and there are rental desks at the airport. It's a 45-minute drive from there to the capital Tórshavn. When to go June, July and August see the warmest temperatures (around 13C) and longest hours of daylight (up to 20 hours), but also the most visitors; locations with few facilities can get booked up fast. September is a good choice, with temperatures around 12C and 13 hours of daylight. The weather is changeable year-round, with rain and mist a possibility any time. While temperatures are fairly mild in winter (about 7C), many hotels shut for the season. Puffins arrive to nest in April, and usually stay until the end of August. Where to stay Hotel Vágar, Vágar island. From DKK800 (£90). Hotel Føroyar, Tórshavn. From DKK840 (£95). More info How to do it: Nordic travel specialist Where the Wild Is offers several itineraries. The eight-night Classic Circle Self-Drive covers multiple islands and includes visits to Lake Sørvágsvatn and Kalsoy; from £1,700, including hotels and car hire, excluding flights. The four-night Summer Puffin Adventure takes in Tórshavn and the puffin-nesting island of Mykines, from £1,250. This story was created with the support of Visit Faroe Islands. Published in the June 2025 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK). To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
