On the second day of my journey I tried to push myself a little harder and climb the biggest mountain of the Faroe Islands: Slættaratindur, which actually should be just a hill compared to my beautiful Alps. On weekends the public transport is basically shit, so I had to hitchhike and walk the last 8 km, just to get to the actual starting point of the route. Unfortunately on that day the islands showed their real face and I ended up all alone and lost in the fog, being able to see about 5 meters, while having wind and rain hitting my face really bad and ending up almost freezing to death. I had to face the truth and decided it would be better to return, but where was the road? At one point I was really close to piss on my hands just to warm them up a little. On that day I had about 10 h of wandering without seeing any human being. After I found path again, I slid down the mountain and stood on the side of the road where a very friendly local guy with a white Mercedes Benz picked me and all my dirt up and drove me back the hostel, where I warmed my bones beside the fire. Faroese people are nice. Even tho I did not make it to the top it was a great day. Also now I have one more reason to visit again.