until reaching the northernmost village ; Vidareidi . The town itself is not one of the most characteristic but the road fills the rider with the greatest emotion . Seeing the profile of the mountains reflected on the placid waters of the fjord , where the only presence is that of small fishing boats , was worth the kilometres travelled to reach these places .
On the other side of the bay , we saw the small village of Nordepil with another of the , so they say , ten thousand waterfalls of the Faroe as a backdrop . We rode on scenic route 75 , marked , like many others , by the yellow flower symbol on a green background and which are called ' Buttercup roads '. The nonexistent traffic allowed us to listen to the roar of the water surrounded by the inevitable long-haired and curly sheep on the side of the road .
Riding back along state highway 70 , we crossed Klaksvik , the second largest city in terms of population .
Populated by less than a hundred people at the beginning of the nineteenth century , it is today the most important centre for fishing and associated industries , as the hook-shaped statue at the entrance to the city reminded us . Here is home to one of the two national breweries , the Foroya Bjor , whose varieties perfectly accompany the fish and chips based on very fresh cod that we bought on the quay .
We deviated from the 63 which , with wide hairpin bends , would delight any motorcyclist . The descent that followed the pass showed us from above the clear waters of the ocean that faded from green to intense blue and that lap a beach of fine white sand . The picture was completed by the steep walls of the amphitheater-like mountains in the centre of which there is the inevitable water-fall . It is difficult for mother nature to conceive of a more beautiful place .
Faroese children play on the beach as on our coasts , but it is impossible for us to swim in those freezing waters .
The last pearl of the day would be the road that led to Saksun . The narrow 53 followed the path of the river which caused the silting up of the port and the consequent decline of the town . The bay was dominated by a small white church and a farm which are both considered national heritage . From above , the view swept over the lagoon , the long black beach and the ocean that merged with the clear blue sky on the horizon .
The last part of the itinerary allowed us to explore the island of Vagar after arriving from the internal road 50 , Oyggjarvegur . The extensive line of wind turbines we met on the ridge reminded us of the role of renewable energy sources . In fact , 40 % of the electricity used comes from plants that convert the motion of the tides and the small nation is
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