Go Together Life

One of the most anticipated moments on every trip we take is our family challenge. Weeks before we travel, the debate begins. Ideas are researched, pitched, rejected, and resurrected, until someone finally suggests the idea. You know the one. The room goes quiet, then at least half of us react with visible horror, fear, or outright disgust. That’s how we know we’ve found a winner.

We do have boundaries, of course: nothing illegal, nothing too dangerous. Beyond that? Anything goes.

For our Iceland adventure, the options were plentiful. Cold plunges into the North Atlantic. Snorkeling in near-freezing water. But in the end, fate led us not to the sea, but to a plate, or rather, a toothpick, of a local culinary delicacy: fermented shark.

Cue collective grimacing. Cue at least one team member turning a delicate shade of green. Still, the challenge was set, and reluctantly it was accepted.

For those who haven’t had the privilege of this experience, the true challenge isn’t the taste so much as the smell. Even the tiniest piece releases an unmistakable blast of ammonia that lingers long after the shark is gone. A simple hand wash won’t do it. A frantic hand wash won’t either. According to Taste Atlas, fermented shark ranks as the third worst dish in the world, and honestly, we’re inclined to agree.

It took nearly our entire trip to find an opportunity to try it, but eventually we tracked it down at Icelandic Street Food in Reykjavík. The shark is served in a shot glass, skewered on a toothpick. We were “brave” enough to share one small piece among all nine of us, partly because that was our collective limit, and partly because that one tiny piece cost $30.

In true Daniel fashion, he volunteered to go first. With a grimace and a grin, he swallowed his portion. The remaining eight of us followed, each with varying degrees of panicked excitement (don’t judge – we know), beverages at the ready. We quickly learned that even three rounds of hand washing (looking at you, Madison) weren’t enough to eliminate the smell, but a generous amount of hand sanitizer did the trick.

The hardest part? Nibbling off our fair share. The piece was small, there was no knife in sight with the ability to make even the slightest dent, and that shark was shockingly rubbery.

Challenge Scorecard: Shark Edition

Name	Result	Commentary
Adam	✅	Approached the shark with deep suspicion and even deeper reluctance, but powered through like a champ. Complained later. Fair.
Ally	✅	Took the tiniest possible bite, held her breath like a professional free diver, and immediately reached for a drink. Efficient and effective.
Daniel	✅	Fearless leader of the operation. Went first, set the tone, and somehow managed both a grimace and a grin. Absolute MVP energy.
Jon	✅	Calm, steady, and quietly questioning all of his life choices. Ate the shark, survived, and said very little afterward.
Madison	✅	Brave but deeply betrayed by the smell. Washed her hands repeatedly in escalating disbelief. Eventually discovered sanitizer = salvation.
Mandy	✅	Equal parts committed and horrified. Tried to focus on the cultural significance while very much regretting everything.
Patrick	✅	Tactical approach: big bite, quick swallow, immediate beverage. The man had a plan and stuck to it.
Quinn	✅	Entered with visible concern, exited with wide eyes, and will absolutely bring this up at future dinners.
Reese	✅	Gave the shark a long, serious look before eating it anyway. Courageous, thoughtful, and mildly offended by the texture.

The smell was overwhelming, our bites were microscopic, and our facial expressions were absolutely priceless. Thankfully, the soup we had afterward was excellent, and we wrapped up our Iceland adventure on a high note: slightly traumatized, slightly proud, and with one more family challenge firmly checked off the list.

Would we do it again?
Let’s just say… boundaries exist for a reason. 😄