I always knew I'd find myself in an airborne emergency one day. Call it intuition, call it anxiety, call it manifestation… I just knew it.
I know, I know, ‘you’re more likely to die crossing the road!’, but I surely can't be the only one who feels more in control of my own destiny crossing the road than I do flying at thirty-five thousand feet in a giant metal can at the mercy of a human I've never met? I may be an anxious person, but I'm a logical one. But I guess that's what an anxious person would say, isn't it… Justifying my fears as entirely legitimate.
With aerophobia and emetophobia my two main anxieties over, say, large objects or tiny holes, you could say that it was unfortunate I found myself on an aeroplane last December with a Captain yelling ‘Clear the aisle and brace for an emergency landing!’ over the tannoy and four of the six seats in the row in front of me occupied by passengers making thorough use of their sick bags.
Needless to say I survived. Hearing the captain admit that we'd ‘lost all signal’ - and ‘therefore contact with the ground’ - above ‘an’ ocean as the front row passengers screamed that they'd heard the mayday call might remain ingrained in my memory for quite some time, but once the captain ‘found land’, and redelivered all 180 of us back to the very same airport we'd departed just ninety minutes prior, there was one thought I just couldn't get out of my head.
Sure, the ‘thank goodness we made it out of that alive’ contemplation was there, but the dominant musing was more inquisitive, as I wondered how - after the best part of thirty years dreading almost that exact scenario - did I not just totally lose my sh*t?
The only answer - and subsequent advice - I could conjure up, was that if you are going to end up in a situation where you fear for your life at thirty-five thousand feet, I strongly recommend scheduling a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the most idyllic retreat on the Blue Lagoon for the few days prior.
A modern day wonder of the world tucked away on the south-western corner of Iceland in the middle of a jet black lava field, with almost a million tourists visiting each year (over double the population of the entire country) there's no denying that the Nordic island's hot spring hotspot is experiencing something of a tourism boom. I was surprised, therefore, to discover that only recently did the country's first luxury hotel and spa arrive.
As our transfer car whisked us from the airport to The Retreat at The Blue Lagoon across a Game Of Thrones-esque landscape, my husband and I barely spoke a word to one another for the entire duration of the 25-minute journey; our jaws on the floor and our eyes fixed firmly on the sea of frost-covered lava stone glinting in the sun and whizzing past our windows, softened by giant puffs of cloud-like geothermal steam bursting from the ground at frequent intervals.
Pulling up to the harsh, angular mass of sleek grey slate, you'd be forgiven for thinking you'd just woken up in the middle of a movie set on Mars, were it not for the small pool of milky blue water below a sign for ‘The Retreat’ providing something of a foreword as to what was hiding behind the giant wooden entrance door.
As we waved our driver off we spotted his rear numberplate; VIP 1. We looked at one another and raised our eyebrows, our expectations as to what we might find behind that wooden door suddenly doubling.
Our expectations could've been infinite, however, and The Retreat would've had no trouble exceeding them. Entering into the enormous double-height lobby with a sunken seating area and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the perfectly still blue lagoon, I was immediately struck by the unusually reassuring, cocoon-like cosiness of such an impossibly vast space.
This contradictory feeling of snugness amidst such soaring, spacious surroundings continues throughout The Retreat, with a total of 60 guest suites situated in a structure which could easily house many more serving to enhance the feeling of privacy and exclusivity.
The suites have a similarly slick interior aesthetic which pays gentle homage to its surroundings, with beautifully-finished monochromatic design details that feel almost more Japanese in their contemporary minimalism.
Arranged on two levels, ground-floor rooms feature terraces running alongside the surrounding lagoon - many of which offer direct access to the mineral-rich waters - while the upper-level suites are complemented by a deep balcony with endless views of the lagoon and centuries-old lava covered in either moss or snow, depending on the season.
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After a few minutes of more dumbstruck, jaw-on-the-floor action, we quickly took a few pictures of our new surface-of-the-moon-like bedroom view before heading straight for those tempting blue waters.
The Retreat's own blissfully quiet private lagoon is less of an open expanse of water than the larger public one - which overnight guests also have easy access to - with more secluded, smaller pools and warm, arctic blue geothermal water-filled walkways and hidden corridors leading from one to another, sheltered by natural ridges of lava rock.
Tapping into the privacy of the space, phones are not permitted in this section of the lagoon. But if your really itching to share (read: gently brag about) the beauty of this space fear not, as there'll always be a super discrete member of staff somewhere nearby with The Retreat's own phone specifically positioned to take pictures whenever requested and email them over - providing, of course, that no one else is in shot.
The perfect blend of nature and human ingenuity, the lagoon's mineral-rich seawater was first discovered when it burst out of a geothermal power plant in 1976 and locals began noticing skin improvements after bathing in it. Fast-forward nine years and the lagoon opened its doors to day visitors, before 30+ years later The Retreat built on the pools' ever-growing popularity and created its own wellness-led luxury world surrounding the opalescent waters.
Lending itself to a spa-like focus on beauty there are a handful of serene treatment rooms which house some of the most skilled therapists I've ever come across, while the ‘Blue Lagoon Ritual’ chamber offers up more of a DIY experience of slathering yourself in various different muds made from the geothermal seawater's bioactive treasures: silica, algae and minerals.
There are also submerged treatment options, with in-water massages and ‘float therapy’ providing the opportunity to to soak up all the expertise of ‘bodyworkers’ without having to leave the lagoon.
If that all sounds far too relaxing, you can call on any member of the infinitely-attentive - yet in no way intrusive - team of hosts to book you on one of the many external excursions, ranging from helicopter tours of the Reykjanes Peninsula to guided photography tours, volcano tours, snowmobiling, snorkelling among the subaquatic hot springs at Kleifarvatn lake and ATV adventures.
We opted for the latter one morning, and quickly found ourselves motoring across lava fields, black sand beaches and insanely lunar-like mountainscapes before stopping-off to warm our freezing hands in one of those puffs of volcanic steam; the unmistakably eggy sulfur smell being the only thing to bring you back to reality during an otherwise entirely otherworldly experience.
Whether you spend your days white-knuckling your way around the island's outdoor activity scene or soaking the day away in the lagoon, your worked-up appetite is in no danger of being left wanting.
With a cosy, universally dressing gown-clad breakfast served in the sunken lobby seating pre-sunrise (fear not the lie-in was safe - sunrise isn't until 11am in December) and afternoon tea served daily in the same spot, other mealtimes offer up the impressive choice between the spa restaurant (serving an exceptional burger), Lava restaurant (relaxed dining with stunning views out onto the shores of the Blue Lagoon) or the jewel in the crown: Moss restaurant.
Having been awarded a Michelin star earlier this summer, Moss, led by Head Chef Aggi Sverrisson, sees 5 and 7-course set menus take you on a diverse tour of the heritage of Icelandic cuisine.
Switching effortlessly between food from the mountains to the farmlands, via rivers and oceans, dishes are almost Oscar-worthy in their visual theatrics, with dry ice tumbling over salt-fresh prawns and perfectly-seared beef served atop a smoking lump of authentic volcanic rock.
After heading back through that vast-yet-cosy lobby - complete with Christmas tree and the ever-nostalgic smell of a crackling wood fire - to our room on the final night, we received our first much-anticipated ‘wake-up call’ while packing. The Northern Lights had finally appeared.
We'd been told on arrival that if we were fortunate enough to receive such a call to act fast, and I felt as though I'd had one eye on our bedroom phone ever since.
We immediately threw on the plaid woollen ponchos that were hanging in the wardrobe ready for such a moment before running out of our bedroom, approximately ten metres across the corridor and up the 15 steps onto the roof's viewing platform. I hadn't set a timer, but if I had I'd guess that from phone call to rooftop around 19 seconds may have passed. Alas, no lights.
As more and more couples, and two young families, joined us in hurried panic, we must've said ‘no, nothing yet’ at least ten times. It then became a waiting game, and we weren't prepared to give up. Luckily for us, the biggest meteor shower of the year provided us with the perfect distraction.
Ten minutes - and five shooting stars - later and the group had halved. As more and more people gave up, I became more determined than ever not to. But after almost an hour on the roof in -8°C we chalked it up to a false alarm and called it a day.
We may not have seen the Northern Lights, but we experienced pretty much every other wonder that the Blue Lagoon could possibly offer.
Our skin was softer, our bellies - and camera rolls - fuller, our imaginations wilder, our minds calmer, our bucket list smaller…
Just be aware that if it's ‘the coldest month on record’, with snow up to your elbows as you arrive back at airport departures, you could be in for a somewhat bumpy ride home.
Prices start at £1300/night and flights are available from most major UK airports.
For more from Glamour UK's Fashion Editor Charlie Teather, follow her on Instagram @charlieteather.