Blue Lagoon

I have seen bright blue water in lava fields. I have seen people paint their faces with white silica paste. I have seen bald men paint their faces and the tops of their heads with silica paste. I have smelled sulfurous steam in saunas where Finnish tourists cite the proper way to sauna is naked. I have overheard Scottish tourists reply jokingly to Finnish tourists that wearing a bathing suit in a sauna is like wearing underwear under a kilt... it’s just not done. I have seen a lot of men naked that I would’ve preferred not to have seen naked. Some men have seen me naked that I wish hadn’t seen me naked. I now know the time duration difference between applying a silica mask, a algae mask, and a lava scrub mask (5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes). I have witnessed groups of Chinese tourists take group pictures in a thermal bath for hours in painted faces laughing. I have learned the proper way to protect your hair for silica water giving it a straw like texture (shower and then lather your hair in conditioner without rinsing).

I spent 6 hours soaking and sitting in dry and steam saunas at blue lagoon. An improbable tourist attraction that was created unintentionally by the briny waste water outlet from the geothermal power station in Svartsengi erected in 1976. The water was supposed to disappear into the permeable lava field but the silica rich sedimentation gradually made the coarse lava field watertight, and the lagoon continued expanding. According to creation stories promulgated on internet sites, “The first person to bathe there was Valur Margeirsson in 1981. He was met with some resistance prior to taking the first dip as people thought he was mad for wanting to bath in a "blue mud pool". He and others soon began to notice the unusual but remarkable healing qualities of the azure waters. Those with conditions such as psoriasis found the waters immediately soothing for their condition. News quickly spread, and by 1987, the first swimming facilities were officially opened. Since then, the establishment has only grown, from an open pool with no surrounding buildings to a luxurious spa, research center and hotel.” With its proximity to Keflavik airport, man-made blue lagoon has become the most frequented tourist attraction in Iceland. Indeed, instead of driving an hour from Reykjavík to the airport on the morning of our departure, we opted to visit blue lagoon and stay at a hotel next to the airport. Given the $100 cost of admission, our visit to the blue lagoon became an ‘investment’ and we decided to maximize our time in the blue lagoon by spending 6 and a half hours there.

I rationalized the expense in time and cost by committing myself to studying the blue lagoon in terms of its architectural design of leisure, similar to how koolhaas studied Coney Island in his book Delirious New York. I found, the blue lagoon is like Disney world for adults. A massive parking lot greets you at the entrance. A mysterious concrete path cut into the lava fields takes you to the entrance. A system of trails branches to the left, you enter a 2 story wood louver clad building on the right. The wait is minimal because people have to book their entry to 1 hour time slots. A concierge presents you with a plastic bracelet, shows you how to affix it to your wrist, gives you a towel, and then shows a map and points out the locations of the water bar and mud mask kiosk in the pools. “The first drink is free and you can apply as many silica mud masks to your skin that you can tolerate.” After spending $100 to bathe at a spa, the word free somehow softens the psychological blow to the wallet. The changing rooms were efficient operations. Men went upstairs, women went to lockers at lagoon ground level. The bracelet opened up and closed lockers upon scanning. The showers were equipped with bathing soap and conditioners, a guard stood by making sure everyone bathed completely before entering the lagoon, without slippers and bathing suits.

They set up amenity stations around the lagoon in a landscape of leisure. Over the course of 6 hours, I found myself traversing the pool like a bouncing ping pong ball from 1 station to another... drinking wine at a bar in the water, wading to the mud mask station, painting my face like a kabuki actor, washing the paste off, sitting under artificial waterfalls, sitting in a variety of dry and steam saunas, eating a lox sandwich at the cafe, going back into the pool water. Every time, I needed to make an additional purchase, my bracelet was scanned, and a tab was being formed under my name. By the end of the day, I had mapped out the deepest parts of the pool, and located the warmest parts (which I liked, especially when the sun set and it got colder). At the end of the night, an announcement in English over the loud speaker was made to all stragglers...you have 15 minutes to leave the pool, please make your way out, we hope you have enjoyed your stay. As I waded in the water on my way out, I looked across the hot water, I could see the smoky steam rise into the dim sky, hardly anyone was in the pool anymore, I imagined it was a natural experience. Ascending our of the water was like emerging from a rocket after a space mission. All the body parts needed to get used to their weight under gravity, not buoyed by water. My fingers looked like prunes, my body stung my the cold Icelandic air. I trudged off of the locker rooms to dress. Upon exit, after all the debts were settled, the bracelet was encoded with a electronic release signal, and I was set free to exit the turnstiles through the gift shop hawking all sorts of expensive masks and lotions, before exiting through the parking lot in the dark.