We Went To Iceland To See The Eclipse. We Felt It Instead

During one of England’s longest and hottest summers, in the midst of a fifth heatwave, I was invited to travel to Iceland. The pull of colder climes was irresistible – I didn’t plan a summer holiday this year because I’m pouring everything I’ve got (energy, time, money) into moving house. Short on ocean, and high on creative vision boarding, I was craving some grounding elemental relief. While Europe sweats, summer in Iceland is famous for its cooler climes, long, luminous days, and for the midnight sun.

This year, of course, there was the added draw of the much-heralded eclipse – the first total solar eclipse visible from Iceland since 1954. Back then, Iceland was a republic barely a decade old – and the Blue Lagoon, now one of the country’s most famous destinations, did not yet even exist. To call this a moment in history felt permissible.

Perhaps less romantic than it sounds, the lagoon was formed in the 1970s, when mineral-rich geothermal seawater from the nearby Svartsengi power plant began collecting in the surrounding lava field. Bathing culture has long been strong in Iceland, and locals soon started immersing themselves in the steaming waters. As well as relaxation, some found the silica- and algae-rich waters provided profound relief from skin conditions such as psoriasis, and the lagoon soon became renowned for its soothing properties. Long on my hit list, a sleek hotel calling itself The Retreat opened in 2018, offering exclusive private access, away from the crowds, to these magical waters. Yes please.

I rang my dear friend and soul sister Tanya Dalton, a fellow Taurean who usually lives in India but happened to be in London, and who I knew would appreciate the significance of the occasion. ‘Do you want to come to Iceland with me for two nights?’ The flights were expensive, but the trip was sealed. Two midlife women whose paths had not followed conventional routes, and who were both facing huge life changes, headed north to face the darkness. It seemed fitting. An eclipse is, after all, a moment of interruption, a temporary suspension of what normally seems fixed.

We landed in Iceland. Many others were here with the same intent: geologists, climbers, hikers, Americans with a tick list. The low-slung, lava-bound enclave of The Retreat was the ideal hideaway. The rooms seemingly merge with the black volcanic landscape, while the pared-back minimalism allows nature to fully show off her glories. With so little time on the ground, we headed straight to the spa.

A sequence named The Ritual lies at the heart of the experience, beginning with swimming in hot, healing seawater surrounded by the volcanic landscape. Whilst the view may look serene, the power plant provides an industrial reality check (you may even spot a digger in the distance), while the recent earthquakes, eruptions and continuing movement beneath the earth are a reminder that this soil is very much alive. None of which diminishes the sheer joy of floating in mineral-rich geothermal waters, drawn from 2,000 metres underground and naturally renewed roughly every 40 hours. Take your time, watch the skyline and your own pulse soften; it’s an ideal environment for heart-to-heart catch-ups.

From the lagoon, move through the grotto-like steam room, the sauna and the ice bath – a sequence of hot and cold bodily immersions which eases out tensions and allows busy minds to surrender. Next comes a series of skin-focused regimes. First, scrub your entire body with sea salt – shower, feel reborn. Then smooth on a thin layer of silica and allow it to dry and cake before rinsing it to reveal a baby-fresh epidermis. Follow with an algae wrap, self-applied, perhaps pausing for a glass of cool hibiscus tea before drenching limbs and face in nourishing essential oils, a dose of lip balm the final finishing touch.

The Retreat’s product line is superlative. Beyond The Ritual, so too were both the treatments I had. An excellently executed facial, and an in-water massage performed on a yoga mat – the therapist in a wetsuit. I was so zoned out by the end I was surprised to discover upon opening my eyes that there were about a dozen other guests in the water; all of us had been receiving the same therapy.

The food was equally nourishing. The Michelin-starred Moss is one of only three such acclaimed restaurants in the country and provides all the caviar and inventiveness foodies crave. I especially loved the non-alcoholic drinks paired with each course and described as fully as if they might be a special vintage wine. Lava provides a more relaxed setting but the spa restaurant was my favourite – miso soups, sushi, silky smooth hummus, broccolini heaven.

Amid this rainbow of moments, the eclipse itself overshadowed all else. Tanya and I set our intentions for brighter, lighter lives so that we might best serve our world – and despite a sky thick with clouds and no visible corona, what unfolded was a subtle, wondrous moment that filled our hearts with awe. Proof that the photo-perfect moment is not always what is needed.

We were in the lagoon when the moon crossed the sun, standing between rocks as a channel of water whirled around our soaked bodies. The atmosphere went completely still, the air becoming cooler as the light dimmed. Then a wind picked up – reminding us of movement within the stillness. A cheer from a gathering of nearby guests was indeed cheering. And then, just as quickly as it had arrived, it was over. Within 90 seconds, it was as if the lights had been turned back on.

We had not hoped to extract answers, only to listen and receive. What we were reminded of was what nature eternally teaches us: light and darkness belong to one another, and when the darkness feels heavy, we would do well to remember – the sun will rise once more.

Perhaps one doesn’t need to travel the world for such a revelation; there are moments of awe in every day if we look properly. But The Retreat helped ease our beings into a state where we were fully ready to receive. We may not have seen the perfect eclipse, but by heaven did we feel it.

Thank you, Iceland.

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