The Blue Lagoon!

I had high hopes for the Blue Lagoon. After all, it was the entire reason for our Iceland detour. I was not disappointed. To be honest, I was nervous as we approached the resort as it is right next door to a geothermal plant. But once inside, the rocky landscape obscures the view and all you can see is the sky through the steam rising off the water. We were given cool chipped bracelets that let us into the resort and enabled us to open lockers. The change rooms were almost deserted which was lucky as I’m not so keen on getting naked in public. You have to shower before bather suiting up for the lagoon, so I ducked under the water for mere seconds before heading out to the steamy pool. If you are brave you can enter the 40degree water from an outside deck. If you are chicken you can step into it inside and wade out through a half door, making sure as much of your body is submerged to avoid the icy wind. The floor of the manmade lagoon alternates between gritty sand and sludgy silica mud. Having been warned by girls in the London hostel I tied my hair up and avoided getting it wet. Apparently it turns your hair into a dry, uncontrollable bird’s nest. Having wet hair also multiplies the cold times infinite. There was a secluded cave to explore, a waterfall, a steaming geothermal steam pot, and boxes of silica to apply as mud masks. We swam around for an hour, finding the warmest spots and just relaxing. Once our fingers turned all wrinkly we jumped out for lunch, then got straight back in, this time with the camera. There were lots of people taking photos (looking stupid holding one hand out of the water) but we tried to keep it to close-ups, which felt less pervy. Timon applied a mud mask to my face and his own as it is supposed to be great for the skin. We spent the next 2 hours lolling around in the water, feeling all travel pains melt away, until it got dark. I made a quick dash through the change room, dodging too many old naked ladies, and we caught the bus back to the hostel.

On Thursday morning we reluctantly checked out and grabbed a quick breakfast – eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast and pancakes for Timon, bacon, pancakes and syrup for me – at Reykjavik’s oldest café. Then it was back on the bus (sigh) and out to the airport for our final flight for a long time (yay).