Nordic Wine & Winter Fire: A Luxurious 2-Day Faroe Islands Escape for Wine Lovers in December

The day opens with the soft clink of ceramic and the smell of freshly ground beans at Ástaklokkan, the historic timber creaking slightly as the wind pushes at the windows. It’s quiet in that particular Faroe Islands way—just low conversation, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the scrape of cutlery over waffles while the town outside wakes slowly. By late morning, you’re stepping into Tjóðsavnið, where polished wood floors and old church pews tell you more about this place than any brochure ever could; the air smells faintly of wool, salt, and dusted-off history. Lunch at Víngarðurin shifts the mood from reflective to indulgent, the room glowing in winter light while plates of Faroese fish and lamb arrive with generous wine pairings that feel almost subversive this far north. The afternoon is for letting a local expert at Experience Faroe Islands decode Nordic wines and Faroese ingredients for you—less a tasting, more a conversation over clinking glasses and small bites. By the time you walk the short distance to Áarstova, the city is dark, and the restaurant’s low ceilings and candlelight turn dinner into a kind of ritual: slow-cooked lamb, deep reds, the soft murmur of other diners. You end the night at Mikkeller Tórshavn, ducking into the tiny bar from the cold, where the walls close in just enough and OY Brewing beers hum with a different kind of terroir. Tomorrow, you’ll trade dining rooms for waterfalls and fjords, but tonight is about understanding the Faroes from the inside out.

The second morning feels quieter inside your head, but the islands are louder outside: wind threading through fjords, the muffled rush of distant water. You ease into it at Café Drekkamunnur, the smell of home baking and hot chocolate cutting through the chill, the owner chatting like you’re a regular while you watch weather roll down the Kollafjørður. It’s a soft start before a hard landscape. Late morning takes you to Svartafoss, where the sound of falling water swallows conversation and the ground under your boots is slick, mossy, and very much alive. By lunchtime you’re back in Tórshavn, thawing out at Húsagarður over plates that play with Faroese traditions and a glass (or two) of something that actually makes sense with the weather outside. The afternoon is your practical indulgence: a stop at HAMSA for thoughtful food and then a focused visit to the National Liquor Store, where the hum of fridges and the clink of bottles is almost meditative as you select wines and perhaps a Faroese beer or two to take home. Evening leans fully into the wine-and-winter brief: Moss for a refined dinner that understands pairing as an art form, then Tórshøll for a last drink in a bar that feels cut from the same timber as the town itself. The arc today is outside-in: raw waterfalls and fjord light first, then increasingly intimate rooms, softer voices, warmer glasses. As you walk back to your hotel through the dark, the islands feel smaller, more knowable—not because you’ve seen everything, but because you’ve tasted enough to want to come back.