Getting drunk in Iceland: a formal guide
The first Icelander I met worked in the duty-free shop at Reykjavik airport.
"We have the highest alcohol prices in Europe," he announced gleefully to the arriving throng.
But he was understating things. They have the highest alcohol prices in the world. I have drunk booze for less in countries that are officially teetotal.
"Get it here or you'll regret it," he continued, and I got it there in the form of a litre of scotch. I regretted only that I didn't get more.
At the supermarket round the corner from where we were staying the young man's warning initially seemed superfluous. For there on the shelves was beer. It wasn't cheap but it was readily accessible. Looks, however, were deceivers.
When I unzipped a can at the apartment it tasted thin. I read the side and found that what purported to be beer was little more than flavoured water — 1.5% booze at best.
It bloated you long before it kicked in. It was like drinking a bath for the soap content. We made a big dent in the scotch.
The next day I learned that to get beer deserving of the name you could go to the bars in downtown Reykjavik where a slug of Heineken set you back a mortgage, or else you could go to the rarely open and unpronounceable government monopoly beginning with B.
That night we delved deeper into Scotchland.
Quite why this tiny country should be so puritan about booze I cannot tell you, but it is a Scandinavian habit.
Perhaps it's a prophylactic against nordic gloom. Perhaps, when they descend into winter and the sun barely rises for three months, and for one month doesn't rise at all, it is only too tempting to reach for the top shelf and drink the misery away.
And yet every year some purposeless agency associated with the United Nations puts out an International Happiness League Table.
And it is invariably topped by the Finns, followed, at a short distance, by the Swedes, Norwegians and Danes. So much for Nordic gloom.
But then it could be that they only survey the grinning Finns in summer when the fiords thaw and the edelweiss blooms, and the endless lightless winter seems a distant and barely credible ghost.
Or else the fierce control of booze is a moral matter, preached from a puritan pulpit.
Every hamlet in Iceland has its proud little white wooden church standing strong against the weather, with a red roof and a tiny windswept graveyard.
And Reykjavik has a steepling white stone cathedral that could house half the country's population. So maybe it's all the fault of God.
Whatever the truth of it, we drank our scotch and toured the country in a rental car, dutifully admiring the volcanic wonders, the fissured rocks where Vikings once held parliaments, the ancient lava flows now thick with spongy moss, the recent lava flows still black and menacing, the Rotoruan geysers and the general emptiness.
The island is five times the size of Wales and has the population of Christchurch.
By the last evening of four the scotch had run to next to nothing and I made a dash for the government store only to find it closed.
But by asking around I discovered a store called Extra where more of the good stuff could be acquired if you were willing to jump through some verificatory hoops. I was as willing as a circus dog, but I was also incapable.
The first hoop was the scanning of a QR code, using the phone that is beyond my understanding, and after a couple of minutes in this Icelandic minimart I was close to weeping with frustration.
But from out behind a counter stepped a minute girl from Vietnam whose hands were like a spray of twigs, and she took pity on me in my distress and explained what I needed to do.
But I was still unable, so she took my phone and sat me down and patted the old man on his head and did the whole thing for me and I got wine. I could have kissed her.
We left next day for London where the first thing that I did once we had found where we were staying — well of course.
The pub was the Stanhope Arms, the beer was London Pride, and it was wonderful.
— Joe Bennett is a Lyttelton writer.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Otago Daily Times
3 days ago
- Otago Daily Times
Getting drunk in Iceland: a formal guide
The first Icelander I met worked in the duty-free shop at Reykjavik airport. "We have the highest alcohol prices in Europe," he announced gleefully to the arriving throng. But he was understating things. They have the highest alcohol prices in the world. I have drunk booze for less in countries that are officially teetotal. "Get it here or you'll regret it," he continued, and I got it there in the form of a litre of scotch. I regretted only that I didn't get more. At the supermarket round the corner from where we were staying the young man's warning initially seemed superfluous. For there on the shelves was beer. It wasn't cheap but it was readily accessible. Looks, however, were deceivers. When I unzipped a can at the apartment it tasted thin. I read the side and found that what purported to be beer was little more than flavoured water — 1.5% booze at best. It bloated you long before it kicked in. It was like drinking a bath for the soap content. We made a big dent in the scotch. The next day I learned that to get beer deserving of the name you could go to the bars in downtown Reykjavik where a slug of Heineken set you back a mortgage, or else you could go to the rarely open and unpronounceable government monopoly beginning with B. That night we delved deeper into Scotchland. Quite why this tiny country should be so puritan about booze I cannot tell you, but it is a Scandinavian habit. Perhaps it's a prophylactic against nordic gloom. Perhaps, when they descend into winter and the sun barely rises for three months, and for one month doesn't rise at all, it is only too tempting to reach for the top shelf and drink the misery away. And yet every year some purposeless agency associated with the United Nations puts out an International Happiness League Table. And it is invariably topped by the Finns, followed, at a short distance, by the Swedes, Norwegians and Danes. So much for Nordic gloom. But then it could be that they only survey the grinning Finns in summer when the fiords thaw and the edelweiss blooms, and the endless lightless winter seems a distant and barely credible ghost. Or else the fierce control of booze is a moral matter, preached from a puritan pulpit. Every hamlet in Iceland has its proud little white wooden church standing strong against the weather, with a red roof and a tiny windswept graveyard. And Reykjavik has a steepling white stone cathedral that could house half the country's population. So maybe it's all the fault of God. Whatever the truth of it, we drank our scotch and toured the country in a rental car, dutifully admiring the volcanic wonders, the fissured rocks where Vikings once held parliaments, the ancient lava flows now thick with spongy moss, the recent lava flows still black and menacing, the Rotoruan geysers and the general emptiness. The island is five times the size of Wales and has the population of Christchurch. By the last evening of four the scotch had run to next to nothing and I made a dash for the government store only to find it closed. But by asking around I discovered a store called Extra where more of the good stuff could be acquired if you were willing to jump through some verificatory hoops. I was as willing as a circus dog, but I was also incapable. The first hoop was the scanning of a QR code, using the phone that is beyond my understanding, and after a couple of minutes in this Icelandic minimart I was close to weeping with frustration. But from out behind a counter stepped a minute girl from Vietnam whose hands were like a spray of twigs, and she took pity on me in my distress and explained what I needed to do. But I was still unable, so she took my phone and sat me down and patted the old man on his head and did the whole thing for me and I got wine. I could have kissed her. We left next day for London where the first thing that I did once we had found where we were staying — well of course. The pub was the Stanhope Arms, the beer was London Pride, and it was wonderful. — Joe Bennett is a Lyttelton writer.
NZ Herald
5 days ago
- NZ Herald
Engage and explore one of the most remote places on Earth in comfort and style
An HX suites experience to Antarctica is immersive, remote and richly rewarding Antarctica stirs the imagination like few places on Earth – an otherworldly terrain that inspires awe and humility in equal measure. This is a continent that has no permanent human population, no cities, no borders – only shifting ice, towering silence and creatures that seem impossibly adapted to its extremes. It is raw, wild, exhilarating and, for those who travel with HX, expertly elevated. With roots stretching back to 1896, HX has long been a pioneer of polar travel. Today it is the world's most experienced expedition company, having taken more travellers to Antarctica than any other. Its approach is rooted in expertise and exploration, offering travellers an elevated suite experience that lets them witness the wild in unparalleled comfort. Even in the most remote environments on Earth, HX Suites offer a calm, considered sanctuary. After a day of Zodiac landings, boat safaris or glacier crossings, guests return to spacious en-suites (some with bathtubs), walk-in wardrobes and elegantly furnished lounge areas that feel more like a private apartment than a cabin. Select suites include private balconies, smokeless fireplaces or even open-air hot tubs – ideal for watching the ice drift by in warmth and quiet. The Antarctic story continues even as you pause to rest. Within each suite, thoughtful luxuries come as standard: welcome champagne, an in-suite espresso machine, premium teas, a well-stocked minibar and daily turndown service. Suite guests also enjoy priority boarding, expedited embarkation and exclusive access to Lindstrøm, the fine-dining restaurant inspired by Norwegian polar heritage. Here, Scandinavian traditions meet global influences in a refined, intimate setting – with personalised service and panoramic views that remind you exactly where you are. And on an Antarctic expedition, where you are is nothing short of extraordinary. HX offers a range of itineraries, but for those venturing to the Seventh Continent, highlights may include crossing the Drake Passage with expert navigators, or visiting South Georgia – often dubbed the 'Serengeti of the Southern Ocean' – and the Falklands, a windswept archipelago of turquoise bays and grassy headlands where albatrosses nest and penguins waddle. At the heart of the journey lies the Antarctic continent itself – a place of sublime scale. There's the shimmering Gerlache Strait, where humpbacks feed in deep glacial waters; the remote research outposts of the South Shetland Islands; and the vast ice shelves of the Weddell Sea, which give rise to mile-long tabular icebergs carried on powerful currents. Every landing brings something rare – a silent hour among seals or the low thunder of ice calving into the sea. These are places untouched by modern life, accessible only to a very few. HX's ships are purpose-built for such environments, offering both the capability to get there and the sensitivity to tread lightly once arrived. But treading lightly is just the beginning. HX also invites its guests to engage deeply – to not simply observe these extraordinary places, but to contribute to their understanding. That philosophy is woven through the entire voyage, and is most evident in the company's onboard Science & Education Program, led by Chief Scientist Dr Verena Meraldi. Guests are invited to participate in real scientific research, contributing to projects developed in partnership with institutions such as NASA and the University of Tasmania. Naturalists and wildlife experts give talks and lead shore excursions, while the onboard Science Centre offers hands-on opportunities to enhance understanding of the fragile ecosystems unfolding outside. These experiences are not add-ons – they are part of what it means to travel well with HX. From the dramatic coastlines of Antarctica, to the fjords of Greenland and the equatorial biodiversity of the Galápagos, HX leads expeditions to some of the world's most fragile, beautiful and remote destinations – always with an emphasis on sustainability, science and deep engagement with place. Its five ships – two with hybrid propulsion – have banned heavy fuel oils and unnecessary single-use plastics, and in 2024 alone the company donated more than 1,900 cruise nights to working scientists. This is elevated comfort with integrity. And for those looking to experience Antarctica in a way that feels both intimate and extraordinary, HX Suites might just offer the best seat on Earth.
Otago Daily Times
16-06-2025
- Otago Daily Times
Natural wonders abound
Australian travel writer Sandip Hor discovers there is more to Iceland than the Northern Lights. Upon my return from Iceland, nearly everyone inquired, "Did you witness the Northern Lights?" This question is quite expected for anyone who has visited this North Atlantic island nation, renowned for a breathtaking display of green light ribbons that dance across the sky. Commonly referred to as the Northern Lights, this natural spectacle, scientifically called the Aurora Borealis, occurs when charged solar particles collide with atoms in Earth's upper atmosphere at astonishing speeds, reaching up to 724million kilometres per hour, resulting in luminous emissions that are typically green, although hues of pink and violet may also appear. The phenomenon is generally visible in the Nordic region, spanning areas of Finland, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, Greenland and Canada. Nevertheless, visibility is not guaranteed, as it is influenced by weather conditions and various solar factors. Therefore, witnessing this occurrence is largely a matter of chance, akin to the likelihood of encountering a lion or a tiger in the wildlife reserves of Africa or India. Regrettably, in this case, fortune did not favour me, and I departed from Iceland without experiencing the light show. Nevertheless, there were numerous other natural features of this European country that captivated me, making my week-long visit both unforgettable and immensely fulfilling. For someone like me from Australia, the most extraordinary experience was spending a few days in a completely ice-covered setting where the landscape, as far as I could see, was blanketed in white, due to some unexpected snowfall. It is often said Mother Nature showcases her finest work in Iceland, and I wholeheartedly concur with this sentiment. During my visit, I encountered an array of amazing natural wonders, including vast glaciers, cascading waterfalls, a coastline adorned with black sand, pristine blue lagoons, snow-capped volcanic mountains, extensive moss-covered lava fields and rejuvenating hot springs that are said to add an extra decade to one's life. The island is situated on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates converge, making it one of the most volcanically active areas on the planet. Home to over 100 volcanoes, some of which are still active, this abundant geothermal energy has significantly influenced not only the nation's rugged terrain but also its life, culture and economy by providing a sustainable and affordable energy source for domestic and industrial usage. In stark contrast to the volcanic activity, Iceland is also home to a substantial number of glaciers, covering around 11% of the country's land area. These glaciers have developed in regions where the average annual temperatures remain below 0°C, allowing for snow accumulation to surpass melting rates. Due to the coexistence of these extreme natural elements — volcanic fire and icy glaciers — the destination is often referred to as the Land of Fire and Ice. After spending some time in the capital, Reykjavik, I embarked on a four-day expedition with Iceland Travel, one of the region's reputed tour operators, exploring the renowned South Coast region, which showcases nearly all the natural forces that affirm the destination's nickname, from fiery volcanoes and geothermal marvels to freezing glaciers and lagoons. The highlights of this extraordinary journey included visiting three magnificent waterfalls in Gullfoss, Seljalandsfoss, and Skogafoss, exploring the geothermal valley of Haukadalur, and witnessing the periodic eruptions of the Strokkur geyser, all while strolling around various hot springs, steam vents, and sulfurous mud pots, admiring the presence of famous volcanoes Eyjafjallajökull, Katla and Hekla from a distance, walking on the black sand at the Vakurfjara Beach, posing for a selfie with the glittering icebergs on the Diamond Beach, getting immersed by the beauty of the Jokulsarlon Glacial Lagoon and finally shaking over all my tiredness with a rejuvenating dip at the Blue Lagoon thermal pool before ending the thrilling and adventurous odyssey. Revered as a shrine of Iceland due to its great geological and historical significance, the Þingvellir National Park was a key stop on our itinerary. Located not far from Reykjavik, it's the place where both the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates meet, and this particular feature has brought geology to life through sprawling lava fields, rocky canyons and crystal-clear glacial lakes. While the beauty of the surroundings was very camera-friendly, more exciting for me was a rare glimpse of the edges of the two plates. I was told that something like this can't be seen anywhere else in the world. It was also at this site, the early Norse settlers in 930 scripted the maiden page of the nation's history book by opening the world's first democratic parliament which remained in session until 1798. Iceland was uninhabited until Norseman Ingolfur Arnarson discovered the island in 870 during the Viking age and commenced permanent settlement, initially as a "free state", later coming under the rule of the Norwegians and the Danes before becoming independent in 1944. My basic knowledge of Iceland's history was supplemented by visits to various museums in Reykjavik, to the National Museum of Iceland, Reykjavik Maritime Museum and the Saga Museum, where the exhibits provided a deep insight into the Icelandic history from settlement to present day. Reykjavik may be one of the smallest capital cities of Europe, but with a stunning natural setting and a fascinating history rooted in the Viking sagas, it buzzes with a melting pot of influences from the very old to new. About two-thirds of the nation's population of approximately 390,000 live there. The 75m-tall Hallgrimskirkja Church is the city emblem. A view from its summit testified to me the splendor of the city's natural surroundings, dominated by the splashing of the Atlantic waves and overlooked by the snow-covered volcanic mountains at a distance. Another must-visit in the city is the newly opened Volcano Express, which presents a cinematic experience that dives into Iceland's volcanic forces and provides the audience with a rare feel of the power of earthquakes, the rush of flight and freefall and the intense heat of lava which Icelanders have faced in reality. Travel notebook Getting There: Fly Air New Zealand ( from Auckland to London or Amsterdam, and then Iceland Air ( to Reykjavik Stay: Fosshotel Reykjavik ( and Hotel Stracta ( and Hotel Klaustur ( in South Iceland. Tours: For info on tours to Iceland, check Beyond Travels ( or call 0800 550 065.
