Where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates bump ugly, there rises Iceland from the North Atlantic: a midnight-sun moonscape where the site of the world's oldest parliament is not far from the local drowning pool of the same vintage; a country where geysers issue like eggy earth-belches, waterfalls throw rainbows into the ground right at your feet; glaciers slump under the weight of global warming; and a new vodka is made with an imported Scottish copper still, then filtered through the local lava rock. The story of Reyka ($24)—it being the first vodka ever distilled and bottled in Iceland—is a doozy, just as Reykjavik, the capital, is a doozy of a party town. Reyka (Icelandic for "steam") also happens to be delicious: a bit lighter and creamier than Grey Goose, less fruity than Cîroc. Sip it at home or at the bars at Whistling Straits, Doral, Bay Hill or Turnberry to name a few places. I like it glacier-cold and syrupy, drunk neat.