I shuffled off the plane in Reykjavik, trying not to feel grumpy. Twenty-four hours of travel never gets easier, no matter how many movies you watch (darn you, Still Alice, for making me sniffle at 4 am). It was cold, rainy, and windy. I really just wanted to find my hotel and take a nap. But I already had a commitment. The Blue Lagoon was waiting.
The lagoon is a man-made lake created by water from a nearby geothermal plant. It really is blue, because of the silica in it. If you've seen pictures of Iceland, you've probably seen it. Icelanders really don't go there. Most towns have their own outdoor pools heated by the hot water underground. The lagoon is expensive and touristy. But still. You kind of have to go there.
You don't really swim in the Blue Lagoon. It's only five feet at the deepest part. Plus, it will make your hair feel like straw if you get it wet, because of the high mineral content. Even the swim up bar is really a walk up one. So you walk around. You find a place away from other people and sit for awhile. You put the algae mask on your face that is supposed to make your skin soft, and walk around with it on, looking like some weird zombie. Nobody cares, because they're all doing the same thing. Everyone seems happy.
It was still raining and cold, but the water was a hundred degrees. Soon I would go to the city and meet the strangers I would be climbing with. But for now, this was the perfect way to start the adventure.