When introduced to actual water the reaction of this crumbling, spherical cake of blue and white bath crystals is impressively volatile: The lively 360 degree fizz propelling the fast-disintegrating, cratering nugget from one end of the bath to other, ejecting in its wake what appears to be a trail of fat grass cuttings and opaque, powdery blue clouds that resemble the ink jet defence of a fleeing cephalopod. Clearly this is the James Dean of the bath bomb world, hell-bent on living fast, dying young and leaving behind a tub of warm, sapphire-blue water that gives off a strong antiseptic bouquet, reminiscent of dental surgery mouthwash.
The grass cuttings (actually seaweed clippings) strewn across the bottom of the tub momentarily take on the approximate shape of a dragon's head, provoking a dash across the corridor to the nearest computer to consult a website on tea leaf reading. Here we are informed that the appearance of a dragon signifies “great and sudden changes about which there is an element of danger.” I privately resolve to take great care when getting in and out the bath.
One detects a nautical theme buried in the list of ingredients: Coarse sea salt and two different types of seaweed - Arame (Elsenia Aborea) and something called Seaweed Absolute (Fucus Vesiculosus) which I desperately want to be seaweed vodka. This coupled with the strong medicinal scent gives the false impression of Big Blue as a tonic aimed at addressing lingering health concerns, as opposed to being an aid to relaxation. If you told me that the dual purpose of this clear azure water was as a delousing agent and stimulant, mitigating the effects of scurvy on sailors following long sea voyages, then I would probably believe you.
You will emerge from the bath infusion smelling like you have recently been intimate with a dentist. A suitable gift then for the kinky, erotically-inclined oral hygienist in your life.