Relative Something

During one of our extended periods of driving across southern Iceland’s barren yet scenic landscape, we listened to a podcast that described proper etiquette for visiting the variety of geothermal pools to enjoy a group soak. There was nothing surprising about the information, but it proved to be assuring in helping me to know I wasn’t dissing some cultural norm out of ignorance.

It wasn’t surprising to learn that shoes must be removed before entering the locker rooms. Nor was it a shock that one should shower naked and wash with soap before putting on a swimsuit. Easy enough. It is the cultural norm. The podcaster said not to be surprised if an Icelander calls out someone who fails to respect these codes of conduct.

Finding the Secret Lagoon took a little sleuthing as the “Alexa-voice” of our GPS seemed to be encouraging us to turn into what looked like driveways. Eventually, we found a parking area in front of the entrance. The wind was gusting strongly, making the air feel cold enough to discourage going into the water.

That’s pretty much the perfect invitation to experience a hot pool. The first thing my senses picked up was the sulfur smell, but that irritation was quickly cast aside by the sensations of being immersed in a large swimming pool’s worth of hot water.

Those of you on social media may be able to find the four of us in the background of selfie photos a young couple probably posted of themselves on their honeymoon. They really looked like they loved themselves almost as much as one another. I assume their phone camera was waterproof.

The pool wasn’t overly crowded. I don’t recall hearing English being spoken beyond our foursome. Regarding how chilly the air felt, the attendants patrolling the facility were wearing winter jackets. The water wasn’t very clear and there was a slimy growth on rocks along the outer edge where the temperature seemed to get noticeably hotter.

None of that mattered. We were soaking in geothermally heated water in the oldest natural pool in Iceland. It was pretty freaking awesome.

We started to get pruney before overheating and used that as an excuse to get out. Who ever wants to get out of a deep soak in warmth?

As I was getting dressed, I heard a bearded older man with Icelandic-accented English inform someone they needed to shower before going in. He then proceeded to engage the attendants to verify they were upholding the rules. It quickly became obvious that the attendants were as foreign to Iceland as all of us tourists.

Secret Lagoon was a great introduction to the realm of luxuriously soaking in the simmering geothermal pools for which Iceland is deservedly famed. It was our first, but it wouldn’t be our last before our visit was over.

With that adventure behind us, we headed not for a hotel but a little enclave of individual cabins nestled up a slope and protected by an electronic gate arm.

Two bedrooms, a full kitchen, a bathroom with shower, and a hot tub out on the deck. Barb and Cyndie prepared dinner from the groceries purchased earlier in the day.

The wind continued to blow, and the cloud formations grabbed our attention all the way through the sunset.

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