From the Womb of Blue Lagoon

I have a twin. Her name is Kim. We were born holding hands at the age of 34, fully grown women, twenty fingers, twenty toes.

Okay, let me back up.

The year was 2015 and we were in Iceland, floating in the warm water of the Blue Lagoon and we had just been reborn.

This was not some sort of religious experience where we found Christ or a scientific experiment where we had our cells rejuvenated. No, this was simply one of the best massages we had, or probably, will ever have. It was the Blue Lagoon’s in-water massage.


Upon entering the Blue Lagoon spa, you are given a waterproof wristband that allows you to order food and more importantly, alcoholic beverages, while you are soaking in the 100 degree F water of the geothermal plant run-off. There are two things that I would like to point out here. #1) The Blue Lagoon is not a natural wonder. It is a man-made complex that is a by-product of the energy company that drills the earth for its geothermal heat and energy. That does not mean that it is bad for you (quite the opposite) or not one of the busiest tourist attractions in Iceland for a reason. #2) Alcohol makes everything better.


Another unnatural, man-made effect is the combination of alcohol with hot water. When soaking in a hot tub or hot spring or geothermal, silica-bottomed lagoon and drinking champagne, you will get drunker, faster. I was feeling it and I was feeling gooooooood!

Go rub some white silica on my face and swim around with it for ten minutes, sure.



Go swim back to the other side of the lagoon to have a free photo taken, why not.

I particularly like the creepy dudes photo bombing us in the background. 

Go to the least crowded area and sit on the bottom of the shallows with a champagne glass in hand watching the people come and go, sounds like my favorite thing.



Swim through every nook and cranny at least three different times to make sure we hadn’t missed anything, like the speakers announcing the history of the lagoon in English in a Playboy mansion-like grotto, check.


Oh I was enjoying it all and no amount of pruned fingers would get me out of that communal bath tub.


And three hours later, it was time for our massage.

You swim up to a gate where your massage therapist comes to greet you and lead you into the private massage area. It is not covered or outside the lagoon, only separated from the regular hullabaloo. You then swim onto a floating mat where you are covered with a large towel and told you may lower your bathing suit if you want. Okay, why not? (Read my previous post to see that nakedness doesn’t bother me as much anymore.) And then the massage begins.

If you follow that path all the way to the end, you hit the massage pool.

It’s a combination of natural spa products being rubbed into your skin at various levels of scrubbing and being dunked down into the water whenever your towel begins to get cold. Your body is cocooned under the wet towel and a smaller towel is over your face and eyes so even though everyone can see you, you cannot see them or anything else for that matter. You are in an amorphous water dream that consists of a strong woman rubbing your body and being consecutively dipped and dunked into the warmest, most comforting water you have ever experienced.

At some point you flip over for your back and at another point you are wedged into the lap of the women massaging you for a neck and head massage but in between all of this, your buzzed brain can only conjure up one thought and one thought only. I am in a womb. This is what it feels like to be a baby. There is a reason we enter the world crying. Who would ever want to leave this?

But just as the contractions of labor squeeze out the last of the amniotic fluid from an infant and shunts it out into the real world, our therapists pushed us out into the waiting pool to transition back into real life. During the hour duration of our massage, Kim and I have not said one word to each other. As we both float into the waiting pool, our hands meet and we sit there silently, clasped together. I have not made one peep about my womb theory when Kim turns to me and says, “We’re twins. We were just born.” I am too relaxed to laugh. I nod my head in agreement and squeeze her hand. There is probably more truth in that statement than anything either of us have said all day…or maybe it just feels like it from all the champagne and dehydration. Either way, I am happy to have her as a sister.



To read the rest of the Relaxation series, click below:

Part One- Hot Springs Time Machine

Part Two- Bathing Beauties

One Comment Add yours

  1. Kim Grupe says:

    Teary eyed from this one. I was there man. One correction. We did laugh. Really hard.

    Sent from my iPad


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