In the hot springs, the steam is so thick, it feels more like Brigadoon, like we might vanish or the world around us might disappear. At night, it's eerie and wonderful and somewhat magical. We could almost believe we were in Iceland or Scandinavia, not only the atmosphere but the myriad of languages spoken around us.
I could barely snap a picture without my hands feeling numb, dry towels turned crispy in the cold, water bottles froze and wet hair morphed into icicles. Necessity trumps style--preferred apparel includes flip-flops (concrete is crazy cold), shorts, swim-suit, winter jacket (for the locker room to poolside transfer) and a winter hat (to wear in the hot springs so you don't freeze your ears off).
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