I’d been excited to go to the Blue Lagoon as soon as the FlipFlop family decided to go to Iceland, but when we pulled up in the car park I was dreading getting out of the car. It was absolutely freezing out there.
I decided to man up, pull on all my clothes and run up between the rocks to the grand entrance.
Brrrr, how could I possibly be expected to strip off to my swimsuit in -4?
After handing over 33EURO for entrance and 5EURO for a towel I ventured into the super modern and swanky changing rooms to test the temperature in there. I was doubtful, but braved the strip. After some technical jiggery pokery with the free lockers I managed to get my entrance bracelet to secure the door and I was off.
My enthusiasm and baited breath was halted by the commandment to shower before entering the Blue Lagoon. There was even a designated woman on duty to check. There was much shrieking and over excited ladies milling about in various states of undress, but it was a family trip: I was going under with my swimsuit covering what it could.
The five metres that stretched from the toasty indoors to the heat of the steps were long and painful, but so worth it. I hopped and recoiled from the cold ground, but as soon my big toe touched the surface it was hard to fight off the temptation to just dive in. The warmth that spread up body was like a cocoon.
As I waded further in I soon clocked that there were hot spots so inviting that the other guests were drawn to them like moths to a flame. We waited until all the FlipFlops had adjusted to being in the warmth and then off we went for a little exploratory walk.
As we made our way away from the hoards that were gathered by the entrance steps we soon learnt a few things not to do:
a) taste the water
b) use the clay underfoot on your face
A was learnt in minutes. Admittedly, it took us a while to realise point B – it was really drilled home to us when my brother went under put it all over his face then came up with used plasters and hair sticking out of the blue clay on his face *vom*.
Slightly worrying that just a few minutes before we had all been massaging it into our arms, backs and faces.
Someone went past with a little pot of clay they’d apparently bought at the outdoors bar – so that was where they were all getting it from. Oops.
Speaking of the little bar, we bought a drink to enjoy while we basked in the Blue Lagoon. I had a glass of delicious sparkling wine which went down a treat (£7) and the others had beers (£6). It felt so nice to be cosy and warm in a massive bath with a glass of a little something something in my grasp. All memories of the extreme cold in Iceland had evaporated like steam off of a geothermal pool.
After a good two hours chilling and chatting in the waters, and a magnificent view of a rainbow, we went on the search for adventure. We found a ferocious waterfall that massaged anyone brave enough to stand under it, and a fun hobbit dwelling-like door that took you into a sauna. I lasted about three minutes before I was in serious danger of overheating.
There were more doors with saunas, steam rooms and all sorts behind, but I didn’t investigate. The time had taken its toll and I was looking more prunish as the minutes ticked by. In fact, we made up a song to fit the experience (loosely to the tune of Blue Moon by Chris Isaak) “Blue Lagoon, turned me into… a prune”. I think the heat had got to our heads, but feel free to claim it as your own.
And so, after a brilliant three hours, we decided to leave. I’d read in a book in Reykjavik that you lose 30% of your body weight in the Blue Lagoon, unfortunately that was a complete lie. Emerging from the Blue Lagoon experience I felt relaxed, rejuvenated and like I absolutely stunk. One thing the book didn’t lie about was that the eggy sulphuric minerals in the water will cling to you like a bad smell.