Laying face down on a thin blue foam mattress in the Blue Lagoon, located on the tip of southwestern Iceland, I feel the masseuse scrub my body with tiny volcanic salt granules, then submerge my limbs in the mineral-rich water.
He lathers me with a green algae mask and wraps me in plastic before dumping me in the water, like a dead body being cast off to sea. I bob around aimlessly for 20 minutes while I dip in and out of consciousness, feeling the sun warm my face, followed by a sprinkling of icy flakes. My eyes are covered with a small, damp towel, so for the most part, I can’t see the iridescent blue water the lagoon has become known for. Even when the towel is removed, I don’t care to look at the water because I’m in such a deep state of chill, that moving my head would be an imposition. “I feel like a very elderly person,” I say to him, as he unwraps and washes me, commanding my lifeless body around like it’s some kind of water therapy. “Or like you’re being reborn,” he says.
Having climbed off a 5-hour overnight flight that morning and suddenly arriving in a mineral-rich pool where I experience my first-ever water massage—2 hours of pure indulgence—being reborn is actually exactly how I feel. Here, at the recently unveiled Retreat, the first luxury hotel and spa to open on the lagoon, there are 62 suites that run along the sparkling turquoise water and overlook the dramatic, weathered Icelandic landscape. One glance and it’s shockingly obvious to see why people come from afar to bathe here—and they do come, in troves. In fact, unless you are a guest of the hotel or spa, which grants you access to private pools of geothermal water, where electronic devices are not allowed, there’s no escaping other swimmers with selfie sticks.
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