It's about -15 Celsius and I'm swimming laps in an outdoor pool in Iceland. Every time my head bobs to the surface, the freezing air electrocutes my wet hair. Through a cloud of steam drifting across the water, I can barely make out the heads of other swimmers next to me. Resting on the side, it's been ages since I swam laps. I turn to a man beside me: "It's exhausting." He doesn't answer, then pulls his ear plugs out. "I said, it's tiring." "Yes," he replies, "but you won't have sore muscles like running." Agreed. It's like he knew what I was thinking. Running has destroyed my feet, but that's another matter.
From downtown Reykjavik, it's a 10 minute bus ride to the Vesturbaejar Swimming Pool.
Oh look, it’s troll toilet paper,” says the Icelandic travel guide pointing to the giant hay bales wrapped in white plastic.
A survey last year revealed that 60 per cent of Icelanders believe in trolls. Construction crews will often build roads around bumps for fear of disturbing a “troll” house. At least this is what I discovered before visiting Iceland.