An Icelandic shower

A shower

It was the beginning of 2014. I had chosen to invest my money on a trip to one place, than a trip to several countries around Europe. It was the first time I traveled to Iceland. At that time it was a debut and farewell, since by looking at the prices of things, which can go to stratospheric figures for just a hamburger gave me the certainty that I would never return, or at least not soon.

Therefore, being my first and last time, I had all the senses, all the organs of my being receiving and keeping as much information as I could. I can still smell the air of Keflavik when I just arrived, feel the wind that pierced my face when we left the airport and, if I close my eyes, I can even see the winter darkness that colors the nothing in the middle of the volcanic nothing.

We arrived on a nocturnal flight, we had been wandering the streets of Copenhagen, before arriving to the airport, just to make time. The sweat of getting up early, of almost losing the train, of the bustle, of the connection that, at the end, we lost , the sweat of waiting, of the walk under the null Danish sun, of carrying our luggage, of going through security, of getting asked by the lady of Wow Air to put all our belongings on the tiny suitcase, of wearing two sweaters so that I could fit everything on my suitcase, and then the sweat of the flight. All that sweat had to be eradicated. We went to a supermarket, the one of the picturesque piglet, we bought some sandwiches to satisfy the hunger, shampoo and soap that I would share with my Brazilian friend.

Then to the family's house -of my then - friend, we had dinner, we talked for a while. He showed us our room for the next five days and then, to the shower! I remember the bottle, it was a semi-cheap shampoo, a bright green, it smelled like cheap shampoos smell like, a mix of rose scent with dishwasher. I turned on the shower, by then I was used to the European system of taps, one for intensity, the other for temperature. However, it heats up extraordinarily quickly in here.

An unnecessary fact: my family knows me as the girl who bathes with water that peels chickens. I love a good shower with boiling water.

And that day I was, for the first time, in the land of the water that peels chickens. I was washing my hair, when suddenly, I got a pungent smell, at first I didn't know what it was, I didn't care. So I continued with my night. It happened on the second day, my second shower, this time the smell was more intense. I had noticed that my hair looked different, as if it had strengthened in some way. It looked like a big bundle of wires. But the smell was there. Nauseating, sulphuric. On the third day, my friend returned desperate from the bathroom. “Hey, what do you think of the shampoo?” she asked me with a towel on her hand, “I don't know, but I think it has a very bad smell" she opened her eyes as much as she could under her huge glasses

“Me too ! But, you know, I have the theory that it's the water. ”

THE WATER Who would have thought?

We both come from very similar contexts. Taking a shower in Mexico City, or in Belem probably comes with the same indications and user manuals. So for both of us, the sulphuric smell of the water in which one bathes, is a very bad sign. With all our suspicions, and our zero expertise in plumbing, we went to ask our host. He laughed and said, "Yes, it's the hot water, is how the thermal water is supposed to smell." And it was then, my friends, that I felt stupid thinking that the low quality shampoo was giving the lost vitality to my hair, thinking that my host had some rusty pipes, or with any other kind of defect there.

But no, is just that the hot water in Iceland smells like egg.

As a curious fact, after the fourth day, you not longer smell it and you even get used to it. And the more time passes, the less you perceive it. However, my senses retained in my memory the smell of my first Icelandic shower.

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