Root + Bone Does Iceland

In search of the world’s purest vodka.

Like many people, the only things I knew about Iceland were Björk and the infamous Eyjafjallajökul volcano that shut down the skies over Europe for weeks back in 2010, causing chaos for thousands of people, myself included, who were left stranded with flights and airlines grounded for fear of volcanic dust jamming jet engines and bringing down planes. After doing some further research, I was thrilled to learn that Iceland is also a country of some of the most empowered women on the planet. In 1975, 90% of the nation’s women went on strike, shutting down airports, schools, and hospitals the whole country ground to a halt. It worked. Iceland’s Parliament passed a law guaranteeing women equal pay and paid maternity leave. Four years later, Iceland elected the world’s first female President.

What I thought I was in for this trip was far from what I experienced. It was nothing short of magnificent. It’s taken me a while to put the pieces of the trip back together, mainly with the help of iPhone photos and catch-up conversations, but I think I have the whole picture. Here’s how I remember it, which doesn’t necessarily mean that this is how it happened.

At 4.30 am, the cab picked me up and made it to Luton airport in record time, 3 hours early for my flight. Great, but I could’ve done with another couple of hours of sleep. At Luton, I found a few of my fellow tour people, and we headed straight to the bar for a few Bloody Mary ‘eye-openers’ before boarding. I passed out on the plane and, 4 hours later, woke up in Reykjavik. We hit the hotel to dump the bags, and in the afternoon, I met the rest of the crew on tour and immediately felt I was a little out of my league. These people were professional journalists, a dozen experts on the beer and spirits business from as far away as LA, New York & Singapore. Now while my comrades may have been professional journalists, for the Root+Bone editorial team, journalism takes a back seat to professional drinking. Functioning alcoholics and over-achieving lunatics, we are the first ones invited to the party and the last ones to leave (maybe this is why we don’t get invited to many PR events). So an hour into our ‘meet & greet’, I was sizing up my team. Who can I break? Who will go the distance? Time to put them to the test.

The first afternoon’s activity was a mini tour of downtown Reykjavik with a stop at a gallery, a whale museum and a wander around the fishing port, but not before hitting the local and only food truck in town, famous for dishing out dirty hot dogs at 4 am. I understood quickly why no one eats them at 4 pm. At dinner, I first realised the next few days would be something special and not just a chance to get to sample some great vodka (although that was a bonus). The degustation menu at Apoptek restaurant was exceptional. An amuse bouche of puffin (yes, those cute little birds) was followed by well-executed dishes including seared tuna with avocado and pickled watermelon; Minke whale (they’re allowed to hunt and eat whale in Iceland) with shallot vinaigrette and Jerusalem artichokes; beef tartare with spiced nuts feta and lime; ocean perch with beetroot, spiced butter and Serrano, and finally a lamb dish with pickled onion, leek and celeriac to finish of the mains. I recall dessert being equally delicious; however, the meal had been made more enjoyable by an excellent seat choice at the table next to a couple of lads whose lives revolved solely around the reportage of spirits and beer. I’d found my wingmen. These lads knew how to order drinks, too, while they toured the extensive whisky lists and debated their characteristics; I felt it right to drink vodka and did so with reckless abandon.

The remainder of the evening was spent stumbling through the streets of Reykjavik, sampling a plethora of Reyka vodka cocktails at some magical bars, with a perma-sunset and the faint glimmer of the Northern Lights breaking through the skies to guide us, weary travellers, further into the night.

Day two began with a hazy breakfast in the lobby with eggs and shots of cod liver oil before being loaded up into the most badass minivan I’ve ever seen with room for 18 crew, massive knobby tyres that would look at home on a quad motorbike, and constant Wi-Fi hook-up on the road. I can’t get Wi-Fi in my kitchen in East London, yet this van had me swiping Tinder halfway up the side of a volcano.

Driving out of town, the landscape resembled an alien planet as we passed along roads that cut through treeless lava fields, with snow-capped tundra fading away on the horizon as far as the bloodshot eye could see. Peeling off the marked route, we ploughed through the white abyss, the monster tyres on the van making light work of the snowpack.

The first stop was a drinks break at a pristine glacial river to taste this so-called ‘ultra’ water straight from the source. I have to admit; that it was pretty special. I couldn’t taste the taste that I was tasting. Then it dawned on me; it tasted like nothing, the way water should taste. We pushed on back along the highway; a few miles down, we again peeled off the sealed bitumen, our driver stopping to deflate the tyres a little to give us extra purchase on the snow, which, we were told, was the only way to allow the beast of a van to drive straight up the glacier. There were no marked trails, white-out conditions, and a few nervous passengers as we ploughed through snowy wind drifts and craggy lava rocks.

Arriving at our destination, there was nothing to greet us other than a couple of other vehicles and a large mouth of a tunnel that disappeared under the Langjökull glacier. Walking 400 meters under the icepack, we passed workmen carving out the finishing touches to the tunnel, tractors and other heavy machinery, and glass-like icepack illuminated with fairy lights to arrive at the world’s first-ever ‘pop-up’ cocktail bar housed under a glacier. We stopped for a bite and were treated to more fine vodka cocktails whipped up by the Reyka brand manager and my new best mate, Joe Petch. It was an experience, but unfortunately, it couldn’t last because – as you’d expect 300ft under a glacier icepack – it was so cold I thought I was wearing my balls as earrings at one point.

Safely back off the glacier and defrosting in the van, we stopped off at the Hraunfossar lava falls to see first-hand how water is pushed up from deep underground through the 4000-year-old porous lava to create such pure water. We also made a quick pit stop at a thermal spring on the side of the road to boil a few eggs for snacks, as you do.

Our next stop, and the trip's highlight, was the Reyka Vodka Distillery. Outside, the distillery is an unassuming white shed in the middle of nowhere. Inside it’s a slick operation. Dominating the room is the Carter Head copper still, one of only 6 in the world and the only one used to make vodka. William Grant & Sons owns 3 of these stills: this one in Iceland and two they use in Scotland to make the editorial team’s other favourite social lubricant, Hendrick’s Gin.

Iceland is one of the purest countries on the planet. Over a quarter of the country’s energy consumption is naturally produced by geothermal energy, the air is virtually untouched by pollution (barring unpronounceable volcanic eruptions), and a tenth of the country is covered by glacial icecaps that supply homes with the most pristine, unfiltered drinking water on the planet. It is this water that helps create the unique flavour of Reyka Vodka.

Reyka Vodka Master Distiller, Thordhur Sigurdsson, led the distillery tour, where he explained how they create what was fast becoming my new favourite spirit. In the still, the spirit is heated to 90 degrees, where the purest vapours are extracted and then piped through a custom-made filter containing lava rocks gathered from a nearby lava field. Once cooled, it is passed through yet another lava filter before it goes into the tank.

We were given a tasting of the spirit at this stage with a 90% ABV, and I can tell you that it knocks your socks off. To this pure spirit, they add spring water, bringing the alcohol content down to 40%. Did I mention the water is lava filtered? Once mixed and tested for purity, it is shipped back to Scotland to be bottled at the William Grant Distillery.

Back in Reykjavik, we had another great night ahead of us. Dinner was at the iconic Fish Market restaurant. By now, I had taken to drinking Reyka on the rocks, and I was surprised how brilliantly the straight vodka matched the Asian-influenced tasting menu. With the sunsets lasting well into the early hours, we hit the town where I drank my body weight in vodka cocktails with my wingmen and new-found ‘wing women’ (it’s worth noting here that there were a couple of ladies on the trip who could drink like a proverbial fish. You know who you are). Late into the night, we dared to try a few local bar snacks of cured puffin and the infamous fermented shark. The shark is given a fermentation process before being hung to dry for about six months. I don’t know who or why they came up with this method of curing the fish, but it was a courageous man who first ate it. Putrid is the word I’d use to describe the flavour.

Day 3 began with a raging hangover as we headed for a foraging master class with top Icelandic chef and foraging expert, Úlfar Finnbjörnsson. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I am hung over, there is nothing I want to do more than forage for seafood. While the rest of the group foraged for mussels along the shoreline, Joe Petch rose to hero status when he appeared on the beach with all the ingredients for Bloody Marys. Good boy, Joe. Once the group had enthusiastically collected all of about eight mussels, we loaded up the van and made for a place to eat lunch next to a geothermal energy plant. Luckily Úlfar had stocked up on mussels beforehand, expecting little bounty at that time of the year. The group feasted on mussels while I feasted on more Bloody Marys and a few stiff Reyka shots while Úlfar taught me about some of the many native herbs and plants that can be foraged in Iceland.

Dinner was a degustation menu at the renowned Nordic restaurant DILL. Opened in 2009 by a local chef, Gunnar Gislason, in the depths of Iceland’s economic implosion, this labour of love has been voted the best restaurant in Iceland since opening. If the previous night’s meal had impressed me, DILL took it up a notch. Salted cod, crispy parsnip and dill started the small bites along with fairy flosses like dried catfish with burnt butter and smoked mayo. The beetroot with liver and roasted yeast was brilliant, the roasted yeast lending a caramel nuttiness to the dish. The larger plates included highlights of more salted cod, paired with apple, celeriac and fried cod cream. Pork belly with sunchokes and smoked hazelnuts was suitably sticky and earthy, and the lamb fillet with salsify was served with lamb fat giving the dish a richness that rounded out the meal perfectly. Dessert was Skyr: Icelandic yoghurt served with celery and roasted oats. The meal was exceptional and matched with wines and champagne by our knowledgeable and passionate Irish sommelier. Of course, we followed this with a tour of more cocktail bars and even more Reyka cocktails, with everyone on tour giving it a good nudge, some taking it to the next level and drinking through to dawn.

Saturday was the final day of the tour, but before heading to the airport, we stopped off at the Blue Lagoon Geothermal Spa for a treatment and a good old-fashioned soaking. I was impressed with the moon-like barren volcanic landscape and the steaming lagoon. I was also impressed by the fact they had a bar in the lagoon where you could buy beers. By this stage, a few of the crew were struggling, and by working, I mean dying. One passed out on the toilet and nearly got left behind, while another spent most of the flight home blowing chunks in the loo. Others had a slight greenish tinge to their complexion. A few seemed normal.

If you get the chance to go to Iceland, take it. For the ultimate outdoor experience, it ticks all the boxes; a spectacular island with a surreal landscape, hot springs, fresh air, volcanoes and vodka. The restaurant and bar scene is excellent, led with passion by some talented chefs and bartenders; and be sure to visit the Reyka Distillery. William Grant & Sons have created something special in Reyka Vodka, one of the purest vodkas distilled in one of the most pristine countries on the planet.