FORGET all those expensive anti-wrinkle creams. The secret to looking young and fresh well into your 40s, 50s and 60s is to live on the Faroe Islands. Situated in the upper reaches of the North Atlantic, this is the ultimate alternative to the sunshine holiday.
FORGET all those expensive anti-wrinkle creams. The secret to looking young and fresh well into your 40s, 50s and 60s is to live on the Faroe Islands. Situated in the upper reaches of the North Atlantic, far above the Shetlands, mid-way between Norway and Iceland, this remote archipelago is the ultimate alternative to the sunshine holiday.
Here, hillwalking and bird-watching replace sunbathing and beer-swilling. Best of all (and there can't be many places left in the world of which this can be said), there is no Irish bar.
Due to the tilted axis of the earth, these rugged and dramatic islands have an unusual relationship with the sun. For most of the winter, there are only two hours of daylight - some time between one and three o'clock in the afternoon. But in the summer months, almost as if in some form of recompense for those long dark winter days, the sun sets for only two hours a night (yes, you guessed it), sometime between one and three o'clock in the morning. Mother Nature, when we allow her, has an impeccable sense of symmetry.
Due to the strong influence of the Gulf Stream, temperatures are moderate all year round, hovering around 3°C in winter and reaching the dizzy heights of 15°C in summer. The swirling fresh air that arrives, pure and unpolluted daily from the sea, combined with the lack of direct exposure to the damaging rays of the sun, keeps the Faroe Islanders looking far younger than their years. I was speaking at length to a good-looking lady called Otva and was more than surprised when she mentioned her 18-year-old granddaughter. I had thought she was in her 30s, but once I had done the maths I realised I was about 20 years off.
The Faroe Islands lay uninhabited for millions of years until the arrival of some Irish monks in the middle of the seventh century. It is highly likely that they were followed by a number of Irish families whose purpose was to spread the word of Christianity. For this reason, the Faroe islanders have a strong affinity with Ireland. ("If I were not Faroese, I would be Irish," said the woman with the 18-year-old granddaughter.)
Although they have a remote affiliation with the Danish Crown, the Faroe Islands have been self-governing since 1948. They have their own currency, their own parliament and were shrewd enough to establish a new flag at the time of Hitler's occupation of Denmark between 1941 and 1945. This was ostensibly to ensure that their fishing trawlers were not wrongly identified and bombed by the Allies, but had the additional advantage of bringing the islands closer to their ultimate goal of complete autonomy.
One thing which the inhabitants have discovered - and which to our shame we have not - is that at the cornerstone of any nation's identity is its language. Faroese is the first language of the islanders and everyone speaks it constantly in daily life (though the inhabitants all learn Danish at school and have fantastic English).
It has its roots in Old Norse and was not standardised and written down until the mid-19th century. In fact, it survived almost by chance, in a huge collection of heroic ballads which were passed down orally through the generations. In other words, the language was saved from extinction by its songs.
The Faroe Islanders are among the warmest and most hospitable people I have ever encountered on my travels. Their faces are open and bright; their manner is uncomplicated and generous. They seemed genuinely delighted that I had taken the time to visit their remote and much overlooked corner of the globe. However, whatever you do, don't mention the whales.
Whales are to the Faroese what bulls are to the Spanish - or foxes are to the English, for that matter. The Faroe Islanders have recently come in for much international criticism for the way in which they slaughter whales in an annual blood sport which has roots deep in island tradition.
In the past, when the islanders suffered great hardship and had very little food to survive on during the long dark winters, fishermen would herd whales from open waters into the bays, trapping them and killing them with spears as the islanders looked on cheering. Whale meat was then distributed free of charge to each member of the community and hung to dry in specially-constructed sheds. It would last them for the whole winter.
Nowadays, at a time when the economy is strong and fish production accounts for 97 per cent of all exports, the islanders clearly don't need to slaughter whales to survive. But, year after year, they do it anyway.
Nobody wanted to discuss the matter with me, but they clearly have no intention of stopping their ritual whale killing just because Green Peace occasionally wags a reprimanding finger at them for their acts of cruelty. And at parties, the whale meat is always brought out.
No longer a necessity, it is actually considered a great delicacy, symbolising the unity of the islanders while reminding them of their often troubled past. But I thought it tasted horrible; I had to tug at it with my teeth like the sole of an old boot.
In the Faroes, tradition is everything, whether it's the language, the food, the national dress or the strange but appealing way they grow grass on the roofs of their houses. They have a passion for the arts which is vastly disproportionate to the size of the population (around 47,000) and a voracious appetite for all things cultural.
Every August, the Faroe Islands hosts an international arts festival in the capital of Torshavn, featuring the likes of Dame Kiri te Kanawa, Jethro Tull and even the Celtic Tenors (we had the honour of opening this year's festival). After each performance there was a celebratory party, which would inevitably become a showcase for those wonderful Faroese ballads.
The islanders dance and sing well into the long bright night, while we southerners stay close by, hoping a little of their youthful vigour and unselfconscious insouciance will rub off on us.
For more information on travel to the Faroe Islands, visit: www.faroeislands.com