One of the easiest ways to assess someone's overconfidence is to name a location and ask if they'd rent and drive a car there. In a particularly egregious case, a friend who does not have a driver's license once told me he'd have no problem maneuvering stick-shift through the African interior. Despite these reservations, I maintain that renting a car in the Nordic countries is the way to go. On our first day in the Faroe Islands, we were zipping down pristine two-lane roads almost immediately. Meandering through a hilly village, we pulled into the Sørvágsvatn trailhead and piled out of the car. The wind whipped our hair in all sorts of directions, and we downed a pick-me-up espresso from a charming cafe before embarking on our first of several hikes.

Because the Faroe Islands are so rugged, we could see the hike's summit right away and figured we couldn't be too far out. As one hour became two, then three, it was apparent that this was an optical illusion. We trudged through muddy streams and stared at mountain goats as they grazed on steep, lush cliffs overlooking the water. After a final push up the mountain, we arrived at what felt like the ends of the earth. Looking down at a staggering drop into the water below and gazing out at equally sharp cliffs in every direction, it was hard to imagine anything existing beyond this point. As we stared, gulls swooped over the cliffhead and settled into crags sheltered from the wind.