Seljavallalaug swimming pool

Iceland is no stranger to strong winds, but on this particular March day the gusts were on a whole different level. Winds of 140 km/hr came roaring down the mountain flanks and funnelled into the valleys below the infamous Eyjafjallajökull glacier. And naturally, this was the moment we decided it would be a great idea to go for a swim in Iceland’s oldest pool, Seljavallalaug.

When we pulled into the rough, unsurfaced car park, the car doors were almost impossible to open—the wind yanked at them with such force that we had to brace ourselves just to step outside. Still determined, we headed deeper into the valley, following the riverbed toward the pool. With every step, the wind pushed harder, making walking barely possible. At one point we looked at each other and wondered if turning back might actually be the smarter choice.

But the idea of swimming in a geothermal pool tucked deep in the mountains had been on my bucket list for years, so we pushed on—though “walk” might be too generous a word. It was more of a slow, determined, snail‑paced battle against the relentless headwind. Every step felt like a small victory.
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As we followed the riverbed deeper into the valley, the landscape around us became even more dramatic. To our left, towering basalt formations rose from the ground, their geometric shapes softened by thick layers of moss. The contrast between the rugged volcanic rock and the lush green drapery was incredible, a reminder of how Iceland blends raw power with delicate beauty.

As we rounded a bend deeper into the valley, the wind somehow found even more strength. At times it hit us with such force that we had to crouch down into tight little balls just to avoid being knocked over. Between the gusts, we pushed forward—slowly, stubbornly—until finally, after about thirty minutes of battling the elements, the pool came into view.
Seljavallalaug is a simple 25‑metre pool, warmed naturally by geothermal water. After the chaos of the wind, the sight of steam rising gently from the surface felt almost surreal. The small dressing rooms beside the pool are basic but perfectly functional, offering just enough shelter to change out of your wind‑whipped layers.

One side of the pool is formed by the natural rock of the mountainside, while the other three sides are built from concrete. It’s a beautiful blend of human effort and raw Icelandic nature. The pool is free to use, though a donation box sits nearby to support the volunteers who maintain this historic spot. The warm water flows directly from a nearby hot spring, feeding the pool with a steady, soothing heat,

After a quick change, I finally managed to tick another item off my bucket list. Slipping into the warm, geothermal water in the middle of this wild mountain valley felt incredible—refreshing, surreal, and brilliant fun despite the chaos raging around us.

But safety comes first, and the wind was only getting stronger. After a short soak, we made the call to head back. By the time we started retracing our steps, the gusts had become so fierce that they practically pushed us down the valley. What had been a slow, exhausting battle on the way in turned into a record‑speed return to the car, carried by the full force of Iceland’s notorious March winds.