Bathing Culture· 4 min read
Seljavallalaug: The Hidden Pool Under Eyjafjallajökull
A 25 metre pool built by hand in 1923 in a valley under Eyjafjallajökull. The story of Seljavallalaug, read through an architect's eyes, and what to know before you visit.
Words: Íris Laxdal
Photography: Lauren Louise Photography for Wild Terrains
At the end of a narrow valley beneath Eyjafjallajökull, tucked against the mountainside where you would never expect to find it, lies one of my favourite places in Iceland. Seljavallalaug is a simple concrete pool, 25 metres long, fed by a warm spring that runs straight out of the hillside. No lagoon, no café, no ticket desk. Just warm water, a small changing hut and the mountains rising steeply on every side.
As an architect, I keep coming back to it because it does so much with so little. And as an Icelander, I love it because its story is really the story of how swimming became part of who we are.
A Pool Born From the Sea
The story begins with a tragedy. In 1901 a fishing boat from the area sank near Vestmannaeyjar and 27 men drowned, many of them very young. Not one of them could swim. The loss left a deep mark on the farms under Eyjafjöll, and in the years that followed the idea grew that the next generation should learn to swim.
In 1922 a young local man, Björn J. Andrésson from Berjaneskot, was sent to Reykjavík to learn to teach swimming. When he came home, he chose a spot in Laugargil, where warm water already ran out of the rock, and the community set to work.
A pool built by hand, with cement carried up the valley, so that the children of the area would never again be unable to swim.
Built by Hand in 1923
A first basin of turf and stone did not hold. Funding was refused, so the people of the area raised the money themselves and bought cement, which was shipped to Vestmannaeyjar and brought ashore and up to the valley once the fishing season ended. In the spring of 1923 the concrete pool was ready, 25 metres long and 10 metres wide. Swimming lessons were part of the payment for the work: the builders learned to swim while they built.
For years Seljavallalaug was the largest pool in the country, and it was here that swimming was first taught as part of compulsory schooling after 1927. Children from all over the region camped in tents in the valley for a week of lessons.
Reading the Pool as an Architect
What moves me is how little architecture there is, and how right it feels. The long rectangle sits in the curve of the valley, with the cliff as its backdrop and the stream running past. The small changing hut is placed so it almost disappears. Nothing competes with the landscape. The water is the room, the mountains are the walls and the sky is the roof.
It is a lesson I return to in my own work, in the studio and in how we design our rituals: use what the place gives you, build only what is needed, and let nature do the rest.
Ash, Volunteers and a Hundred Years
Seljavallalaug has needed its community more than once. In 2010 the eruption of Eyjafjallajökull filled the pool with volcanic ash, and in 2011 machines and volunteers dug it out again. Former locals return to help clean and care for it, and in 2023 the pool celebrated its hundredth birthday with a gathering in the valley. In 2006 the pool was given protected status.
Visiting Seljavallalaug
- The pool is off Route 242 near Seljavellir, under Eyjafjöll on the south coast. From the car park it is an easy walk of around 15 to 20 minutes along the riverbed, with a few small stream crossings.
- The water is warm rather than hot, warmest near the spring inlet and cooler at the far end.
- There is no staff, no shower and no rubbish bin. Bathe at your own risk and take everything you bring back with you.
- The pool is cleaned only once a year, so the water can look green and the edges can be slippery.
- Be gentle with the place: keep voices low, leave no trace and remember that the pool has been cared for by local people for a hundred years.
After the Swim
There are no showers at Seljavallalaug, so I always bring a small kit: a towel, warm socks and a body oil or lotion for afterwards. Spring water and mountain wind leave skin feeling dry, and a few minutes massaging in our Volcanic Glow Body Oil or Westfjords Body Lotion in the car before the drive home has become part of my own small ritual.
Seljavallalaug is the first post in Baðhús, a new series where I look at Icelandic bathing places through the eyes of an architect. Next, I head to Sundhöllin in Reykjavík.
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