a clue for scooby-doo

Ethereal has always been one of my favorite words. I guess I just like the way it sounds, and I tend to like the mystical contexts it’s used in. It’s a word that speaks of quiet magic and delicate beauty and something unknown. Swimming in the Blue Lagoon in near total darkness is the embodiment of an ethereal experience, the first real one I’d ever truly had.

We arrived at Keflavik National Airport at about 6:40 in the morning on Saturday, December 14th after a strange half-night that left many sleepless. I thought I had adjusted pretty well, but my body begged to differ. We stood at the baggage carousel at what would have been 2am our time, waiting restlessly in an empty airport as I fought off waves of nausea. I stepped out into the Icelandic winter air for the first time with my t-shirt sleeves rolled up, trying desperately to cool down and feel better so I could jump head first into the long day ahead. Our 20-minute bus ride delivered us to the Lagoon in almost total darkness, and we arrived just as they opened for the day. There was a quiet sort of excitement spreading through the group in whispers—I think we were all ready to sit back and relax for a solid couple of hours. Navigating the wristbands and the showers was a little daunting at first, but every second of it was worth it the moment I stepped foot in the water. A small group of us descended the indoor ramp together and pushed open the heavy door to meet the crisp outdoor air. The contrast of the inviting hot water with the fresh winter air sparked a sense of tranquil intensity. We worked our way past the first bridge and into the wide-open space. Massive clouds of steam danced on top of the water, making it hard to really grasp the magnitude of the lagoon or to see more than a couple feet in any direction. It was enchanting and mysterious and lovely. I likened it to the beginning of a Scooby-Doo movie, which I know does not necessarily seem lovely, but it made it feel familiar in a nostalgic kind of way.

A fairly large group of us scouted out the bar together and ordered smoothies, made with Skyr, of course. We hovered there in a circle, just talking and trying to wrap our heads around the reality of being in Iceland and sharing this experience that was nothing short of blissful. The black sky gradually began to fade to a rich dark blue. The light found its way into the sky almost imperceptibly. Visibility increased, though the switch from steamy dark and mysterious to buzzing with electric colors and soft lights did nothing to make the atmosphere less bewitching. The warm embrace of the water melted months’ worth of stress off my shoulders. The refreshing drinking fountains were such a pleasant touch and made me feel as though I never had to leave. It was such a perfect start to our day. It somehow relaxed us and woke us up at the same time, and I think the sheer wonder of the experience helped bring us all closer together. If I ever return, I will do so under the dreamy cover of darkness, hoping it will lead me to more revelations about life and peace and vivacity.