

We dipped into the piping hot water, a silken mix of H20 from both the sea and the land that continuously circulates and accordingly does not require chlorine. Once inside, the building opens up to the ocean, which visually merges with the five joined geothermal infinity pools. Icelandic architecture firm Basalt (also responsible for the Blue Lagoon’s new Retreat hotel, built directly into a 1260-year-old lava flow and featuring a subterranean spa) has created an undulating concrete masterpiece that fuses itself to the local landscape. When we finally arrived at the cliffside spot, the dramatic entranceway submerged in a grassy hilltop signaled this was not just another rustic geothermal bolthole (though I adore those too), but rather, an ode to Nordic design. To sustain ourselves for the six-hour drive from Reykjavik, we relied on our favorite local provisions: chocolate-covered licorice, Nocco (an addictive Swedish energy drink), and skyr, the creamiest Icelandic yogurt (in North America, try Siggi’s Skyr). Thus, along with my mother and sister, we embarked on an aquatic pilgrimage.

For centuries, they had used the area’s geothermal heat for bathing and washing. It just so happens that this remarkable pool is located in Húsavík, a remote northeastern fishing village on the coast of the Greenlandic Sea right by my Icelandic family’s ancestral land. Seeking a more transcendent and secluded experience, we ventured to GeoSea, the newest place on the swim scene.
BEYOND BLUE POOLS FULL
And while the Blue Lagoon is the most well-known place to do so, it’s also full of noisy tourists slapping on silica facemasks and taking selfies. Indeed, the bathing culture is such a point of national identity that there are more pools per capita here (upwards of 200) than anywhere else, and swimming lessons are mandatory.

To say that Icelanders take swimming seriously would be a gross understatement.
