The Westman Islands, like much of Iceland, has pool centers filled with all manner of hot pools. This is where you can see Icelanders undergo a most significant transformation.

In the almost scalding waters, you can see a local begin to thaw ever so slightly. The effects of a lifetime of snow, rain, biting winds, and Ikea furniture washes away. Here an Icelander comes to socialize, many of them every day, even in the 24 hours of darkness in winter.

Still, for some travelers it might be hard to tell that there has been a change. But if you watch closely you will see them give you a head nod or if you are lucky, strike up a conversation as happened between me and a large Viking named Oshkar.

I learned that he was 5th generation Westmanian (Westmaniac?), lived in the same house he was born in, and had been 17 when the Eldfell volcano erupted. He'd been one of the men who worked the fishing trawlers to evacuate the townspeople to the mainland as well as manning the water cannons on the boats in order to slow the lava flow. At risk was that the expansion of molten lava would pinch off the entrance to the protected harbor, crippling the islands fishing economy.

We soon got to the crux of the conversation. "You try standing on water slide." It was a statement.

"Yes, yes I did."

You might think standing on a water slide is foolhardy and perhaps more in the realm of 4 year olds than my age. But you forget we are in Iceland.

Iceland is survival of the fittest and lawsuits aren't a hobby or business like they are in America. Thus, building a water slide that ends halfway down spitting you onto an angled trampoline that you bounce down into a shallow pool is par for the course.

This bouncing deathtrap is not enough for the younglings of Iceland. Instead, they must come up with ever more complex tricks including back flips, barrel rolls, and backwards canon balls. It is obvious that your social standing in this town and island is based on your mastery of the trampoline slide during your youth.

Therefore, on my first trip to the Westmans a few years ago, I thought perhaps I could gain honor amongst these people by mastering their dangerous art. I came close.

Only one trick eluded my grasp and it was a subtle one. Even the majority of Icelanders hadn't attained the ability to shoot out of tube and landed on their feet on the wet, bouncy, unstable trampoline, and skate down the entirety without falling on their butts.

I once made it. Almost.

Ugly, wobbly, I had hit the water only to fall back. It was only a graze of the derrier, forgivable, but not forgettable. I would never come closer On that first trip.

Now I had a second chance.

My attempts met the same defeat. And it had not gone unnoticed.

“Easier for small children. Less bounce on the landing." Oshkar told me.

I laughed, “Any tips?"

"Stand straight. No fall backwards."

This made sense because it was the one thing I hadn't done. I always landed in a half crouch position with a wide stance.

I gave it one last go. I gritted my teeth, waved to my wife who looked a bit embarrassed to have her husband standing in line with 8 year olds to use the slide.

I did it. On a technicality. By the rules I didn't fall on my bottom. Instead about halfway down I fell forwards and rode down on my face. this made the little kids laugh and ended any chance of another attempt.

I think from the subtle smirk on Oshkar's face I had truly gained acceptance amongst the Westmaniacs.