A later start today, a day that was meant to be relaxing. I was up before the alarm and decided to get a shower before the trip. The shower was a special experience. Because the hot water is geothermally heated and flows to Reykjavík at 81°C, they add a touch of a naturally-occurring sulfur compound to the water to prevent pipe corrosion. Imagine washing yourself with a stink bomb. We affectionately referred to our shower stall henceforth as “the fart chamber.” Fortunately, the smell doesn't linger on the skin, so that was a big plus. I woke Liz and we headed downstairs for breakfast and our 0930 pickup for Bláa lónið (BLAU-ah LO-nith), the Blue Lagoon.
It was 0945 when the bus picked us up and took us to the coach. Blue Lagoon is about halfway between Reykjavík and Keflavík Airport, so it's a popular spot for stopovers. It also means that it's about a 30-minute ride by coach. The Reykjanes peninsula is one of those wastelands that conjures thoughts of what the Moon would look like if it had an atmosphere. I know I've said all of this before, but it's one of those things to which I'd find it hard to grow accustomed.
The lagoon itself is an accident; what was initially thought to be an ecological disaster is now one of the most profitable businesses in Iceland. The nearby power plant was one of the first large plants in Iceland and, instead of feeding waste water back into the boreholes as the new plants do, they simply dumped it out onto the plains. When it was discovered that the water and the minerals contained therein were good for the skin, it was hailed as serendipity and the Blue Lagoon was born.
The resort-spa is a very cool system. You get an RFID-tagged bracelet that allows you to enter the facility, lock your locker, and charge refreshments at the swim-up bar. Once inside, we discovered that, due to strict hygiene laws, we were required to fully shower with soap and without clothing prior to as well as after bathing. Fortunately, they did have some showers with privacy stalls for we prudish Americans. We met outside the lockers and exited the building, greeted by about 55°F ambient temperature and a piercing drizzle on our now mostly-exposed skin. Quite fortunately, the Lagoon is naturally heated to around 104°F (possibly a fair bit higher in some spots, it seemed), so it was perfect. I think Liz described the mineral-rich water best, calling it, “skim milk with a drop of blue food coloring added.” It was most pleasant, and just what we needed.
People watching doesn't disappoint at the Lagoon either: there were some choices of swimwear that ranged from tragic to ill-conceived to requiring a strong concentration of eye bleach. What is it with German men and Speedos? Others of the young ladies present might have done well to have tested their garments for translucency before entering the pool. Note: I didn't want to look, but I couldn't avert my eyes in time!
We soaked and swam and explored all areas of the very large pool. We smeared the silica mud on our faces, having opted out of that tradition with wedding cake a couple of weeks ago. I even gave Liz a piggy-back ride! After we had fully pruned, we got out and rested a while before returning to the pool for our massages at 1300. Leave it to me to get the surly, silent masseuse out of the bunch. Her name was Ilsa and she seemed to think I was some kind of bongo drum. It wasn't a completely unpleasant experience, although it was fairly light on the actual massage part. One of the coolest parts of the massage, aside from the fact that you're partially submerged through the whole thing, was that after a while, they would pull you off of the submerged table and allow you to float on a foam mattress while continuing the massage fully underwater.
After an hour of that, we were severely pruned, so we opted to change back to street clothes and hit the Lava restaurant there at the facility. This was our first true miss of the whole trip. To say the buffet was lacking would be extremely kind; in fact, it was rather grotesque. Saved by the bell, however, as we now realized it was nearing 1500 and the buses ran on the 15s back to Reykjavík. We hustled out, briefly boarded the wrong bus, then got right and back to town. Since we got dropped at the central bus station instead of the hotel, Liz had the genius idea of procuring one-day bus passes for tomorrow.
We came back to the hotel to rest a bit and figure out what to do next. It's becoming clear that, although we're still enjoying ourselves, it's time to go home. After thirteen straight days of being on-the-go, it's tough to get moving again once at rest. We decided on simple and close for dinner, not wanting to repeat the failure of lunch. Two blocks up on Laugavegur, there was a wood-fired pizza place with a strong menu, so we hit it. A brilliant veggie pizza later, I was feeling refreshed. We decided at that point to finally take advantage of the 10-11 store under the hotel and made a crap raid. Ice cream, Pringles, skyr, strange candies and odd beverages—kickass! Skyr is a very interesting product: it's like triple-thick yogurt with a much more custard-like texture, but it's amazing stuff. Mine seemed to be peach-raspberry flavor and it was delicious. Although it's still kind of early in the evening, I wanted to get this done. We downloaded a Patton Oswalt stand-up special and we're going to watch before bed. Yeah, we miss TV too.
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