There's nothing quite like that first plunge into the soothing waters of Iceland’s Sky Lagoon — except for that first glimpse you get of the moody sea, an extension of the infinity edge of the expansive hot pool that first opened its doors in 2021.
Now, Sky Lagoon, an experience by hospitality and attractions company Pursuit, has unveiled a renovation of its Turf House, utilizing a historic approach to construction to ensure complete authenticity and celebrate Icelandic bathing culture and history. Since the ninth century, Icelandic turf houses — structures with turf walls and roof covers — have offered insulation and protection from the country's harsh weather; at Sky Lagoon, the building is a warm space to take part in the venue’s Skjol (shelter) ritual.
Sky Lagoon is located outside of Reykjavik.
Credit: 2025 Sky Lagoon by Pursuit
But the Turf House isn't just an homage to Icelandic bathing culture. The Skjol ritual you’ll find there embodies the essence of Iceland; everything — down to what you smell, the shape of the rocks and the design of the signage — is modeled on the natural formations and traditions that visitors can find throughout the country and that locals will find instantly familiar. (Two steps begin outside the Turf House, with a dip in the lagoon and a bone-chilling cold plunge.)
The full seven-step ritual "symbolizes the essence of our Icelandic spirit — a haven from the hustle, a warm embrace amidst the cold,” reads the detailed instructions listed in the changing room “It's a journey back to our bathing culture roots, to the uniqueness of our heritage and the warmth of our community.”
It's a journey back to our bathing culture roots, to the uniqueness of our heritage and the warmth of our community.
A transformative wellness experience for visitors and locals alike, the new and improved ritual and the major renovation makes Sky Lagoon a must-do experience when traveling in Iceland. And, as it turns out, as the pool is found just on the outskirts of Reykjavik, it is the perfect restorative spot before or after a long international flight.
The Sky Lagoon Experience
The first thing I noticed when I arrived at Sky Lagoon is how unassuming the building is and how perfectly it melds into the surrounding landscape. Outside the expansive parking lot and the single sign announcing you’ve arrived, you wouldn’t know one of Iceland’s most famous hot pots was located here.
The Sky Lagoon serves local foods.
Credit: 2025 Sky Lagoon by PursuitThe interior is all warm wood, muted colors and Icelandic signage, inviting guests to relax in Keimur Caf or Smakk Bar in front of a crackling fire with a frothy cappuccino, crusty homemade bread and other local delicacies such as traditional pickled herring, creamy Audur cheese or Iceland’s signature gravlax. Be sure to take some time to browse the impeccably curated gift shop, which features locally made clothing, as well as the products utilized in the bathing ritual.
After enjoying a coffee and a sampling of baked goods at the cafe, I had a shower in my private changing room (available with an upgraded ticket), stored my belongings in a locker conveniently controlled by a wristband and wandered toward the entrance of the lagoon. I sank into the steaming water, letting it envelop me in delicious warmth.
This was the first step: Laug, or the lagoon, is the infinity-edge main pool — complete with the swim-up Gelmir Bar — that spills effortlessly into the iron-gray ocean beyond, where the chilly, choppy water only amplified the warming, relaxing effect of the hot springs on my body.
I was a little more cautious when approaching step two, as Kuldi (cold plunge) is an icy pool that mercilessly guards the entrance to the sauna beyond. It left me literally breathless as I dunked my head and counted each excruciating second that I immersed in the chilly water.
After the cold plunge, in a mad, frigid dash, I entered the Turf House for the relief of step three, Ylur (the sauna): a warm, wooden oasis — a place to stay silent and reflect while gazing at the ocean out of Iceland’s biggest single-pane glass window.
The ritual includes nine steps.
Credit: 2025 Sky Lagoon by PursuitOnce my body was thoroughly heated, I ventured to step four. Suld (cold mist) is a playful space — indicated by the large, perilously placed boulder that blocks out a portion of the open-air roof. It’s a spot to embrace your inner child while breathing in the mild scent of salt and fish drying, a nostalgic smell for Icelanders. I twirled, skipped and practiced clumsy yoga poses, tipping my head back and embracing the drizzle, finding charm in the angry weather.
After I metaphorically shed any negative vibes, I was invited to scrub myself clean at Mykt (sky scrub). I rubbed the beautifully scented salt scrub all over my body (and although I was informed to not place any on my face, I ignored that specific instruction and, while in the steam room, got a salty sting in my eyes — lesson learned). The scrub, while physically exfoliating my rough skin into satin, also sloughed off any stress or anxiety that was still lingering in my limbs.
I embraced a vegetative state and allowed my body to marinate in the salt scrub during step six, Gufa (steam). I sank into the steam, melding into the wall at the back of the room, and let out a sigh of contentment. The mist swirled and embraced me — the occasional spritz of cold water was the only interruption in this humid oasis.
Softly steaming, I somewhat reluctantly entered step seven, Saft (elixir), where an Icelandic drink awaited me. The essence of kraekiber, or crowberries, is described as “a drink your grandmother would make,” and although I knew I had the rest of the day and evening to enjoy libations in the lagoon, I didn't want the ritual to end — so I snuck a second shot, swishing the sweetly tart elixir around my mouth while savoring the state of joyful abandon I found myself in.
Later, in the gift shop, I picked up a tub of salt scrub to take home with me, a small slice of Sky Lagoon that never fails to transport me back when I use it now: to that first plunge, that first scrub and that first taste of complete relaxation.