On a visit to Croatia, I stayed on a small island in a lighthouse. For the few days I was there, I was a quarter of the population of the island. There were two lighthouse caretakers and a man who watched the sheep on the other side of the island. I had to hire someone to sail me on his boat to get there.

It’s my impression that this experience convinced Anna that she wanted to travel with me.

“Kerry,” she told me one day, “I want to travel with you. You pick a place and tell me when, and I will join you.”

At this point in our lives, Anna and I worked for the same company, myself as a product manager and her as a QA specialist on one of the products I managed. She lived in Ukraine and I lived in Denmark. We had met in person multiple times when one of us was visiting the other’s country. I had even taken pictures of her once, though I later found out that this had been a bit of a misunderstanding that she had been too polite to clear up!

Still, I was all for taking a trip with her.

Anna has incredible, infectious energy and is one of the most conscientious people I know. I both feel and felt certain I could trust her with my life (which, as it happens, was put to the test and turned out to be true!).

When she made her pronouncement, I was considering a number of potential trips, including the Faroe Islands. What drew me was the opportunity for both hiking and photography. What concerned me was that the Visit Faroe Islands web site’s admonition that one must never hike alone, given the dangers of quickly changing weather conditions year round.

Perfect. I knew Anna was in great physical condition and enjoyed hiking. We easily agreed and I planned the trip.

Three weeks before we were set to fly, I clumsily fell off my bicycle and broke three ribs. As I lay on the street, feeling, accurately it turns out, that I had somehow damaged my lungs, I thought I may well have reached the point of my own death.

“Oh well,” I thought. “At least I don’t have any dinner plans tonight, so I won’t inconvenience anyone.”

Then I thought, “Wait a minute… I’m going to the Faroe Islands with Anna in three weeks. I don’t want to miss that!” I resolved to inform any passersby that I needed to live.

An ambulance came and took me to a hospital where I stayed overnight. I asked doctors, nurses, and the physical therapist if they thought it was OK to fly given that I had collapsed a lung. No one gave any strong objections, so I went.

Anna and I had a great trip and took lots of hikes and pictures, many of which are in this book.

During one hike, which started out with beautiful sunny weather, we walked 20 km to a beautiful coastal view, actually on the other side of the view on the cover of the book. On our return journey, however, the weather turned foggy and a cold rain started to fall.

Despite knowing the right direction we needed walk to get to our rental car, the weather and terrain made finding our way increasingly difficult.

We were lost! I felt we were walking in circles.

As darkness approached, the pain from my ribs and the cold seeping into my body from the rain, I felt ready to give up, sit down, and, once again, accept my inevitable death. Had I been alone, I may have done so. This, however, was not an option while I had Anna with me.

Anna, of course, lived up to my trust in her. She kept a cool head and never panicked. She methodically approached the problem and eventually found our way back to the car.

Once again, the wisdom of my gut feeling, in this case that I could trust this woman with my life, proved itself worthy.

Unlike most of my single subject books, I printed extra copies of this one, so that both my mom and Anna’s mom could get a copy, as well as my uncle Bob, who immediately became head of Anna’s fan club in the United States.