As of March, 530 people were on the waitlist for admission to Vogur, the hospital and detoxification clinic run by Iceland’s National Center of Addiction
I moved to Iceland in May 2001. I was 23, and by this time, a product of working-class Irish Catholicism and Lower East Side punk rock hijinx both, I had already about a solid decade of alcohol abuse under my belt. In Iceland, I found the same attitude towards booze I had been raised with: drink hard, apologise, repeat. I found a culture similar to the one I left behind, I found a whole nation of drinking buddies.
Ask Iceland Review