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Visit us at: Story: When christianity took a firm hold of the Frisian soil, we got a vision from the gods. A beautifull new land was waiting for us. And thus, under the guidance of Njord we set off, not knowing where to go exactly. We lived on the seas and made them our home until that one fateful day when skies broke open and on the horizon loomed the shores of what turned out to be the Faroe islands. The vision once again came to our minds and thus it was clear: this island, Suðuroy, with the most southern part, Akraberch, would be our new home. Many many thanks to: Angela Schoorstra for the shoot editing Frederik Rijpma for bracing the cold northsea Lyrics: Yn oertiid skoepen út it biente fan reuzen Dy hege rjochterstoel Bonkich berchte rizend út seeën sâlt Neaken ûnder it himelferwulft Soannen fan Borr, sy fôlen dyn skatkeamers Rynske wetters en ivichgrien Omjûn troch de rypreus syn swit Aegir syn tsjeaken dy’t grimmitich mealle Goudengleon strielt de sinne oer dyn antlit Yn Aseherten sletten bisto Wale fan skientme Breidablik gelyk Tusken goadesealen stiesto boekstavere Yn tsjoendersrûnten lústert dyn namme Akraberch op Suderoy Wêr’t sibben har waarmje mank fjurren Wylst weagen rûnom bolderje en brekke
