Covering the Waterfront: The Blue Lagoon, Grindavik, Iceland

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I

What would motivate an otherwise rational human being to return to Iceland in the frigid throes of winter? Well, I love being treated like a Viking King. I miss truly great Scandinavian cooking and of course those ethereal Danishes. I loved that there was no queue at the Icelandair ticket desk and the hot meal in flight – Icelandair’s Swedish meatballs - would be the beginning of my Iceland-plumped belly. Maybe I need the recurring rehabilitating high of travel to Europe.



I was almost refused admission to the country last year when I arrived in Keflavik. NATO has closed down the airbase since my last visit sending 20,000 American troops packing (much to the delight of Icelanders everywhere.) Now, water is banned from entering the country. And when we get off the plane, we not only must surrender our offending water bottles, we must also take off our shoes, and belts and pass through metal detectors just to get into the country. Iceland is now a Schengen Agreement country that doesn’t approve of the way we do things in the US, so we are re-screened.



I am shocked on the 45 km trek from the airport to see construction everywhere: commercial buildings, stark but colorful “eastern bloc” style apartment buildings, and new roads.



I arrive at the Hotel Ođinsvé (pronounced “oh-than-svee-ya”, you can see how difficult Icelandic is). Ođinsvé means home of the Norse gods. What we actually have is a boutique hotel of 33 rooms in the Old Town of Reykjavik 101 and you can’t help but notice the stylishly understated lobby, polished woods, plush fleur de lys carpeting, a stuffed bird collection, cheerful rooms (mine has an ocean view). Although my room is ready by 8:30am and sleep is necessary for life support, I book my trip to the Blue Lagoon immediately as today, Monday, is the only day of bright sunshine before the deluge of assorted wintry mix weather. No need to book the glacial walk, all of Reykjavik’s sidewalks are covered in ice (rock salt & sand are unheard of here apparently). I am not entitled to breakfast on the day of arrival but I indulge in the exquisite finesse of the Scandinavian buffet breakfast anyway. I am shocked I am not charged when I check out. I am thrilled: the Danish come in many incarnations and the chocolate filled Danish is a model of excess. I am ready for new tasting diversions. Here you can get soft or hard boiled eggs, salmon, herring in sherry, shrimps, 3 cereals, ham, cheese, orange and apple juice, fruit cocktail, yogurt, hot designer breads from a local bakery and the best coffee you will ever have.



After breakfast, there is no time to rest. Reykjavik Excursions is outside to take me to Grindavik, Iceland. You know you have arrived in Grindavik when you see massive smoke rising against a backdrop of snow covered mountains. After showering (following Icelandic procedures-Americans they say do not shower correctly), you can enter the Blue Lagoon from the indoor lagoon or brave the 24 degree F air temps and jump into the milky blue waters. What we have here is the overflow of geothermal waters from the Svartsengi power plant that is pumped into the lava fields to drain away, but mineral in the water crystallized, thus creating the lagoon we see today. The distinctive baby blue hue comes from the minerals and the blue-green algae dissolving into the water and this has a proven positive effect on the skin. The Blue Lagoon must be experienced. I know I sound like a cheerleader for indulgence, but I am drugged by the mysterious play of light and smoke on the lagoon. There are walking bridges laced across the lagoon, silica pots to smear on your body or hang out under the waterfall, all outdoors in 24 degree F weather. I was jolted back to reality when I touched my ears (they were cold) and I was sure my wet hair would turn to ice. But I ignore this, as I love the thrill of discovery. You can schedule spa treatments, massage in the lagoon itself, shop in their gift shop where you can buy the prestigious Blue Lagoon spa products to take home, or for incurable gourmands ready for new tasting diversions there is a fine dining restaurant. Be forewarned though, waiting for the RE bus in an unsheltered bus stop for a long overdue bus that never seemed to arrive to get back to Reykjavik, you can freeze in the barren frozen tundra in the winter in the high winds, even with layers of long underwear, multiple sweaters, 2 ski caps and a down filled "Michelin Man" over sized parka with a hood. The wind and cold pierced these layers like they weren't there. I will never complain about a New York winter again.



It’s time for dinner back in Reykjavik 101. Bjorvin recommended Prir Frikkar (known for its whale meat) and we stopped by Lækjarbrekka for authentic Icelandic cuisine (fish, meat, game, and they even offer a “puffin party” (those cute penguin like birds) served up in different preparations as appetizer and main course. Hopefully your dessert will be puffin-free. Game dishes top out at $92.00 US. Frightening! But not to anybody else. The place is totally booked this Monday night. So was Humarhúsiđ next door, a lobster specialty restaurant for those with trust funds. My own hotel Ođinsvé offered me a 15% discount as a hotel guest, but alas, they are closed Mondays. The Brasserie Borg has transformed itself into a cool new venue. This Art Deco classic Hotel Borg doesn’t want to lose any business to the new Hotel 101 (rooms start at 60,000 ISK per night in off-season wintertime!) Jude Law and Ewan McGregor stayed here I am told. No buffet breakfast here, even at that price. You must order a la carte. Bjorvin guides me through the labyrinth of streets in the old town. We see the ornate office and home of the owner of the Kaffeebarinn-the only building I see in town with an onion dome. Dinner tonight will be at Horniđ, a big deal when it opened in 1979 as the only Italian restaurant in Reykjavik. Don’t be deceived by the marble table tops and casual décor. Dinner here can top 7700 ISK ($113.00 US) for two without dessert. More than you’d expect from a place that serves pizza. My tomato basil soup is intense but there’s not much in the large bowl to command 800 ISK or a whopping $12.30 US). The main course, an Italian fish stew, is bizarrely served in a cream sauce, but had a heady mix of mussels, scallops, lobster and shrimp (2400 ISK, $36.92 US). Add wine at 650 ISK, about $10.00 US) and watch the tab soar. We wanted Brennivin, the infamous Icelandic schnapps made from potato pulp, cumin and caraway seeds, known by locals as “svarti daudi” or Black Death, not served at Horniđ. So across the street we went to the Radisson Blu 1919 Hotel and their lounge/restaurant, 1919. Posh, sedate and seductive with its frosted glass bar and black leather couches, we enjoy a shot of Brennivin straight. It has a distinctive kick to say the least and it’s highly addictive. I bought 3 bottles at the airport before I left. Brennivin is the cheapest drink you will find (about $8.00 a shot). Mixed drinks cost anywhere between $19.00 and $24.00.



I am wondering if there is a Reykjavik not in the guidebooks. How about a hidden jewel of a restaurant that is above the radar of tourists. Where do the chefs eat? A night crawling chef here insists on showing me an insider’s Reykjavik on Tuesday night. Heavy rains and wind were flying in Tuesday, but I had enough time for a leisurely, expanded breakfast at Hotel Odinsve, a stop at Bjorvin’s apartment behind Hallgrimskirkja Church for coffee (and chain smoking and chatting in Icelandic about the high cost of real estate here with Bjorvin’s family) and I need directions to Kjarvalsstađir (Reykjavik Art Museum) in Reykjavik 105. Admission was 500 ISK but there were only 3 rooms! There were 3 exhibitions, some installation art with audio. It’s trying to be The Museum of Modern Art, but unfortunately, you cannot clone MoMA. In no time I was back in 101 to take in Ađalstræti, the oldest street in Reykjavik. The Reykjavik Hotel now covers the 9th Century remains of the first farmstead.



The night crawling chef arrived at 7pm, thankfully with a car. We went for an impromtu drive of the Old Harbor District, while we waited for his friend, who needed another 20 minutes to be ready for dinner. I had no idea how massive the Harbor District is, some streets downright scary. Chef had worked on whaling vessels before the chef gigs. Their neighbor, in their apartment building is a certified schizophrenic. He hears voices that tell him to kill people. Fortunately, he has always managed to check into a hospital before killing someone, which gives you an idea of how the Icelandic mind works.



Some people buy expensive clothes, some have large families, but I am good to my stomach. Chef has chosen Solon for dinner. This was just the restaurant I was looking for: stylish, artsy (there are rotating art exhibitions on the walls), dimly lit with a menu that ranges from casual fare to perfectly conceived entrees. No menu was necessary. Chef ordered in Icelandic: Brennivin to start, followed by a lobster soup and followed by “sea wolf”, an Icelandic sea creature (thick and voluptuous) served with potatoes (roasted in butter to perfection) and a brilliantly conceived salad of frisee, olives and grapes. I am amazed by the sophisticated tangles of flavor (and ever so slightly scary new textures of the wolf fish) in Icelandic cuisine. The Night Crawling Chef and his friend, The Continuing Student, knew everyone working here, so it was not surprising there was no charge for the soup. Yes, everyone knows everyone else in this city.



We never have to leave 101. Steps away there is another bar/bistro/pub/café. Enough of the Brennivin. I try a classic gin & ginger ale. Krona is mere paper. More tales of Iceland. The Continuous Student is a political science major so this is a perfect chance to ask about Iceland’s “closed society” past. Comrade Continuing Student was more than happy to clarify. The government at the time had restricted how much money could be brought out of the country. So in effect, no one person ever could have enough money to leave the country (remember there were no credit cards back then). Also, the student tells me, “Did you know that television was forbidden Wednesday nights – no broadcasts?” Ditto Thursdays. Chef brought up in the western suburb of Hafnarfjorđur (pronounced Hab-nar-fyur-thur, simple right?), a coastal town ringed by a harbor, is a firm believer in elves and hidden people and was surprised that I knew that Hafnarfjordur had the highest concentration of elves. I am so ripe to swallow imported knowledge. Icelanders chain smoke and it is allowed in all restaurants and bars until June 2007 when it was banned. There is definite hostility in the voices of Europeans contemplating coming to America with its new investigative immigration hassles in store for these brave souls. Most will never bother coming to America any more. American movies dominate the theaters here, but they are not thrilled about this. All theaters are controlled by two corporations (sound familiar?) There are only 7 TV channels, if you have satellite, only 1 station if you have broadcast). “That’s enough” says the Student. Time for another venue. Do Icelanders ever stop drinking? And to think back home I am considered incorrigible. But a life of the senses was pleasantly addicting. So was harvesting blondes in Scandinavia. By the third bar/bistro/pub I couldn’t even touch an ordinary glass of ginger ale. All bars here serve coffee, espresso & cappuccino, but coffee after midnight seems like a mistake. It is 12:30am and Rex, a new velvet rope club down the block is packed. But non-stop decadence is tiring. And I pity my Brennivin soaked liver, after the reckless gluttony of dinner.



Ultimately, I miss my cheerful, smartly furnished room at Ođinsvé with its cream leather chairs, fine expensive wood furniture and my view of the North Atlantic. And of course, my breakfast every morning, a new surprise on the table each day, with piped in music (What’s with Icelandic radio stations playing American pop from the 1960’s, everything from Mary Wells to the Four Seasons?) and the most decadent Danish to date.



Hotel Ođinsvé, Ođinstorg @ Tysgata, Reykjavik 101

Tel: [phone]

Fax: [phone]



The Blue Lagoon (Bláa Loniđ)

240 Grindavik

Tel: [phone] www.bluelagoon.is



Prir Frakkar – Baldursgata 14. Tel: [phone]



Lækjarbrekka, Bankastræti 2, Tel: [phone]



Humarhúsiđ (now Torfan), Amtmannsstigur 1, Tel: [phone]



Siggi Hall, Thorsgata 1, Tel: [phone]



Horniđ, Hafnarstræti 15, Tel: [phone]



Hotel 101, Hverfisgata 10, Tel.: [phone]



Hotel Borg/ Brasserie Borg, Posthussstraeti 11, Tel.: [phone]



Radisson Blu1919/ Salt Lounge & Restaurant, Posthusstraeti 2, 354-599-1000



Kjarvalsstađir (Reykjavik Art Museum), Flokagata, 105 Reykjavik



Reykjavik Hotel, Ađalstræti 2



Tourist Office, Bankastræti 2





Solon, Bankastræti 7A

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Photos

Internal entrance to The Blue Lagoon
but I didn't see anyone using it.