Two Grapevine interns defy the repercussions of the previous Airwaves night and head out to the Blue Lagoon and it’s hangover party. And what a party! Initially it was like your average Blue Lagoon visit what with folks lounging and getting their mud masks on, but as soon as the DJ started playing it was on. General madness and dancing frenzy in hot blue water amidst lava fields with beers in hand – gotta love it. It all escalated to crowd surfing in water to crazy kongo lines slithering around the lagoon. Ah, what a way to start an Airwaves day! -LP
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I wasn’t really hungover today, but whatever was ailing me was cured at the Blue Lagoon today.
At the disturbingly early hour of 12:30, my friend and I boarded a bus out to the notorious man-made geothermal lake for an afternoon of silica mud faces, squishing our feet into the dead skin on the bottom, drinking beers in the water and dancing like maniacs.
I wasn’t quite ready, or even expected, what actually took place. For one thing, there were way more people than I imagined would be there (especially at such an ungodly hour). Second, I didn’t realize the party would congregate into the right-most nook of the lake, over by the edge of the restaurant, which would essentially turn into the dance-floor(pool?) while the rest of the place acted as a chill zone. Third, I didn’t know there was a three drink limit.
Apparently the good people at the Blue Lagoon are carefully watching out for all their patrons lives by enforcing a limit on boozing so the combo of alcohol and warm water doesn’t slow ones heart rate down dangerously. I commend them on this.
I only had one beer though. I didn’t really need more. As soon as DJ Margeir started spinning an eclectic set of weird-tech, disco-house, electro and straight-up dance, a pack of wild boys (who I believe were in fact sober) started jumping, fist pumping and sulfur-water splashing about. The whole place quickly followed suit and soon the middle of the nook was packed with something resembling one of those spring break videos from Daytona Beach (but luckily, no embarrassing nipple flashing etc.)
After conga-lining and kicking out the jams full on, we realized what time it was and knew that we had to hit the showers if we wanted to catch that 3:30 bus. Booooo!
On the bus back, a magical wave of lethargy washes over the bus and we nap until we reach the Culture House. Ahh, bliss! -RL
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