What It's Like to Spend the Night in an Ice Hotel
By the end of January, just about everyone is sick of hearing the cliché "new year, new you" applied to everything from wardrobes to diets to spiritual journeys. Everyone, that is, but me-though my motto is closer to "new week, new you" or even "new day, new you." My tradition is to start each new year in a new location, and to try something new and physically challenging in that place that forces me to push my mind and body outside of their comfort zones. It began last year in New Orleans, where I ran a half marathon; the 2016 agenda involved flying to Oslo, Norway and staying in a snow hotel. No one I knew had ever done it and my mother was certain I'd freeze to death overnight, but I wanted to take on the adventure.
Before my trip, I did quite a bit of research (and shopping)-this is not the kind of experience you go into with the plan of winging it. I booked my excursion through Fjord Travel and was given an extensive set of documents explaining how to layer to stay safe and warm, as well as how to sleep in the snow hotel. I got the feeling that the amount of Canada Goose and Uniqlo puffers one owned was in direct correlation with how enjoyable one would find Oslo.
Kirkenes is a small town, population 5,000, in Northern Norway that's home to lots of reindeer, fish and a snow hotel that goes up every December and comes down every April. Adjacent to the snow hotel is a reindeer farm, a dog-sledding operation (my NYE activity) and large expanses of untouched snowy land-all of which makes for great Instagram posts and an increased sense of Zen (or panic, if you're a strictly city girl). Upon arriving to the snow hotel, I checked in at the main lodge and received a wristband and a room number on a sheet of paper-because, oh right, there's no need for a key when your room doesn't have a door. I was escorted into the Gabba Gabba lodge and treated to a drink and a reindeer sausage, which I had to warm up myself over the fire, before touring the property. Inside the hotel was a stunning ice bar and 21 rooms featuring intricate ice sculptures and carvings created by eight Chinese artists flown in for the project for ten days. Charlie Chaplin posed over my bed, while other rooms showcased Olaf from Frozen, Marilyn Monroe and ferocious Vikings.
Dinner that first night was a fine Northern Norwegian feast: reindeer tartare, arctic char and rich beer and wine, enhanced by conversations with guests from all over the world. We were given instructions for how best to sleep in our military-grade sleeping bags and a general list of do's and don'ts for maximum comfort and enjoyment. Nothing is strictly enforced, but as we are sleeping in 25-degree rooms with a floor crafted from snow, warnings were doled out against doing things like showering before going to bed (resulting in frozen hair) and, weirdly enough, having sex (it's been attempted before and left guests frozen in some compromising positions). Post-dinner, you can take a snowmobile rides, play cards while enjoying a cup of tea or get a nightcap at the Viking ship-shaped ice bar. I chose the latter and being that it was New Year's Eve, I was fully prepared to celebrate into the night with an Irish couple I had just met, but as it turned out, the bar is only open for an hour to prevent inebriation and shots are the only option on the menu. I had three and warmed up quickly.
As I made my way to bed, I started to feel a little uneasy. I noticed the doors to the side of the snow hotel were left open, which as a New Yorker who takes her safety quite seriously, freaked me out. The absolute silence of the entire place was also eerie: no cars, no upstairs neighbors, no voices. I almost found myself longing for the sirens and garbage trucks of the city. But I snuggled into my sleeping bag in my balaclava, wool socks and fleece long johns and drifted to sleep for about an hour before the beer, tea and shots came back to haunt me. Three times. Meaning I had to unzip and get dressed in winter gear three times in the middle of the night.
At 7:30 AM, the hotel woke the guests up with a bell alerting us it was time for showers, saunas and breakfast. I felt triumphant for having made it through the night alive, and the shower felt downright glorious, despite it being more like one you'd find in a college dorm than a nice hotel.
As I headed out on a bus back to the city proper that day, I felt renewed in a sense-I met new friends, got in touch with nature and developed a strange mind-over-matter appreciation for the cold. It was an experience I recommend to anyone who wants to push the boundaries on vacation, if only for 24 hours.
