Each winter,
deep in the boreal forests of northern Sweden, a hotel is built anew, all of
ice. Reindeer hides cover the ice beds, where guests are ensconced in down
sleeping bags. There is even a wedding chapel, akin the Snow Queen’s palace in Hans
Christian Andersen’s tale. Or so I imagine, for the touch of frostbite I got at
the Norwegian Olympics in 1992 has left me with little inclination to sleep on
ice, no matter how well insulated.
However, I was
still curious, so I did the next best thing and visited the Ice Bar in downtown
Stockholm.
“Your feet will
freeze,” the attendant said with a laugh, looking down at my sandals. The
weather in Stockholm was unusually warm, 80 degrees and no wind, practically sweltering
by Swedish standards. But we were about to leave all that behind, as my 26-year-old
daughter and I pulled on blue hooded ponchos that hung below our knees with
attached gloves - but no foot coverings.
Nonetheless, we walked
through the double doors. About a dozen people were standing around, including
a group of women from Southern California. The room lived up to its name: the
bar was made of ice; the shelves behind were ice; there were blocks of ice
topped with reindeer skins to sit on and more blocks of ice forming alcoves and
walls. Some of the blocks had designs carved into them. And yes, my feet were
rapidly cooling.
The first drink
was included in the entry fee, and the beverages fit the theme, with such
evocative names as Torne River (a
version of a lemon drop named for a northern waterway), Wolf Paw (lingonberry jucie and lime with Absolut 100), and Snow Flake (vodka with coconut, peach,
pineapple and cranberry juices). All but the three virgin drinks were based on
Swedish Absolut vodka. Tina had the Husky
Sledge (vanilla vodka cinnamon, and apple), while I went for the Northern
Light (raspberry vodka,
crème de cassis, lime and raspberry puree).
This piece first appeared in the travel blog, e-Picaro (http://epicaro.com/hp_wordpress). Please check it out.
