Iceland – impressions in note form (3rd part)

Day 3

The alarm clock was supposed to wake us at 8. The son wakes us at 6:50. He wants “lights on and read me a book”. I for my part want darkness and silence. I lose this battle. Then: getting up for breakfast. Son and husband feel sick. My eyes are a little better, best compared to the feeling “shortly after the resurrection”, not completely alive again, yet not as deceased as they once were. Breakfast. It’s crowded. We have to sit in a conference room instead of in the restaurant. There are way too many Germans here. I feel very ordinary. Back to our room. The husband takes pain killers. The son claims to be playing. “Throwing around mum’s belongings in the hotel room is not playing.”, I clarify. Now: waiting for the bus. The bus comes at 10:30 and takes us to the Blue Lagoon. There is a very long queue to get inside. We stand in the queue. For quite some time. A very long time. But then finally, we are inside. The son wants to change with me. We go change. It’s hot and full. We go to take a shower. There are instructions on the wall which body parts you should pay particular attention to when washing yourself. I wonder what kind of people feel aided by these instruction?! And if I really want to go swimming with them. It is written, too, that you should wash yourself naked. So I take off my bikini and get into the shower. Some British women my age enter the shower and blare about not wanting to see “shameless ugly people” naked. I get insecure about myself, abandon the shower and wrap my towel around me. I feel guilty for not having followed the washing instructions completely. Maybe that’s why they are there. The son screams he has to pee. I take him to the toilet. He says he already peed in the shower. So much for hygiene! We finally go to meet the husband. The holy instructions tell us that all children unable to swim have to wear water wings. The son starts screaming as we place them on his arm. He cries, telling us he won’t go into the water with those things on his arms. We take them off and go into the water. A second later a bath attended fishes us out of the water, because the son is not wearing water wings. Again we place water wings on the son’s arms. Again he screams. We ignore him and take him back into the water. The son screams. It takes me quiet some funny faces to lift his mood. The husband gets a beer from the pool bar. We are amazed about how full it is. So many Germans, Asians and… we finally hear some Finns, too. The water is very warm. So warm that I get dizzy. We drift around a bit and play with the son. Soon, we have enough. We agree to get out of the water and back to our hotel. In the bus, we are not sure if this trip was really worth it. Not disappointed by the Lagoon itself, but by the masses inside it. It was fairly hard to relax, partly of course because the son was hanging on my neck screaming “Go, horsy!”. But also because it was so crowded. Even though we are visiting Iceland at an unpopular time. From the window we watch Iceland’s amazing scenery passing us by. Our son, exhausted from the swimming and his cold, falls asleep in my lap. We feel guilty for taking him to swim even though he has a cough. On the other hand, the water of the Blue Lagoon might ease his atopic eczema. Back in Reykjavik we go to Bónus to buy some food and – finally – donuts. We take the bus back to the hotel. The little one is way too weary to walk. Half of the day is still left. My sick men want to rest a while. The son starts whimpering. I kiss his forehead. He feels warmer than usual. We decide to spend the rest of the day in bed watching Food Network and, well, eating. We enjoy ourselves, even though we realize that this was something we could have done at home for much cheaper, too. Nonetheless, we like to be here. Very much. Tomorrow is our last day. We get a little sad. We day dream what it would be like to live here. We understand that our imagination is probably very unrealistic and way too romantic. However, we are once more sad not to be natives. Then we brush our teeth and start to sleep.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s