When visiting Iceland, make sure you bring a swimsuit. Soaking in clear blue geothermal waters with the steam rising and the smell of sulphur and chlorine in the air is what being an Icelander is all about. Or a vital part of it anyway.

To Icelanders, the swimming pools located in every neighborhood all around the country, have the same purpose as the old town squares in white chalked Sicilian villages, or the local Starbucks in main street USA. Immersed comfortably in the hot tubs, daily issues are discussed, opinions raised, life’s mysteries almost solved.

Elderly ladies wearing lipsticks and flowered swimming caps; grey-haired men sporting creased anchors on their arms; a young mother with her infant, splashing about like a duckling, shrieking with glee; a couple of teenagers gazing into one another’s eyes. Everyone is refreshed, rejuvenated.

The tradition of soaking in Iceland’s priceless geothermal water reaches as far back as the nation’s settlement, as is evident wherever you travel in Iceland. How about taking a soak in legendary outlaw hero Grettir Ásmundarson’s pool located by Skagafjördur Fjord? Snorri Sturluson, Scandinavia’s most important writer of the Saga age also must have concocted his greatest masterpieces soaking in his Reykholt pool. Last but not least, Iceland’s femme fatale of the Viking era, Gudrún Ósvífursdóttir, one of the protagonists of Laxdaela also had one with her name on it. According to the famous Saga, a quite a bit of flirting and plotting went on there. Her pool, at Laugar in Saelingsdalur, has recently been opened to the public.

Even if I’m not fortunate enough to have a geothermal pool to call my own, there are a few pools that have made its mark on me. Here’s my life in swimming pools.

Varmaland. A delightfully quaint swimming pool in rural Borgarfjördur, West-Iceland, located in an area filled with hot springs, which explains its name, Hot Spring Land. There, on a breezy summer’s day, I took my very first swim strokes. Staying with my family to a nearby summerhouse, a trip to the pool was an every-day ritual. Afterwards, we would stock up on fresh-grown tomatoes or cucumbers as many greenhouses are operated there.

Laugardalslaug. The neighborhood pool of my early childhood. Built in 1968, this is Reykjavík’s largest and most popular swimming destination, visited by 1,5 million people every year. It has something for everybody: a wide selection of slides, Jacuzzis and Saunas in addition to various-sized pools. Overlooking it is an area for observers as this was built as a competition pool. The area is very large by an adult’s standards; to a child, it seems to go on forever.

Breidholtslaug. Here, at the pool of the large suburb in which I grew up, I spent my most of my teenage years, visiting it almost every day with my sister or my girlfriends, socializing and soaking up the sun in a swimsuit fitting to the fashions of the 1990s.

Vesturbæjarlaug. My local swimming pool and absolute favorite. Smaller in size than the others, making it all the more cozy, this is the place to be, with artists, musicians and media personalities hobnobbing in the tub making for a fascinating conversation for all to join in. This is a bona fide community pool; its supporters are for example reinstalling a sizable fish tank, which used to delight guests until 1985, using donated money from guests and patrons. Here, I rekindled my interest in swimming. There is no better feeling in the world than diving into that cool, blue silent domain, away from the hustle and the bustle of the world above. And then afterwards, soaking in the hottest hot tub, which is definitely an acquired taste.

So, there it is, my life in swimming pools. And you know what? Every single Icelander can tell you a similar story.

Ásta Andrésdóttir – asta@heimur.is