Very far up North: The Ice Hotel

Not one week had passed after I came back from Malaga and I found myself in the northern most reaches of Sweden, in the mining town of Kiruna. Of course, we did not travel 1,000km to the 67th degree latitude to survey the centennial iron pits.  For some time now, Kiruna Airport has been the scene of international tourists coming to sleep in the Ice Hotel.

Situated on the Jukkasjärvi (part of the Torne river), the Ice Hotel is a 20 minute drive from the airport.  Expecting to load our things on a taxi, I was getting increasingly suspicious as we seemed to be walking the opposite way and closer to the din of barking Alaskan huskies. We would be going to the hotel on dogsled! And what a wonderful way to travel. That is, if we exclude the dog at the back left who managed the art of running on its front legs to take a s#%@ while on the move, bringing a waft of fresh poop over us (at least we were saved from the physical matter). Despite this, it was impressive to watch as the dogs pulled our combined weight across the snowy landscape.

The northern Swedish landscape, home of the Sami

I came to realize that northern Sweden is a vast and empty place. It feels somewhat like being, "beyond the wall" for anyone who watches Game of Thrones. So much so that for the first time, flying back to Stockholm felt like coming to a densely populated area. However, what it lacks in population it makes up for natural beauty.  On a snowmobile excursion we went on, the guide took us to a gorgeous viewing point on the top of a hill. Kiruna and its enormous but deserted open mining pit could easily be made out between the white and green hills and frozen lakes. In the distance, one could see the mountains that border Norway.

The reindeer

It all inspires to think of a time before conquest and geological discoveries divided the land. In fact, after having a Swedish 'fika' (coffee and cake) we sped across a lake at thrilling 100km/h to a Sami reindeer farm. The Sami are (or used to be) a nomadic population of Lapland that would follow reindeer herds according to their migration patterns.  Today's Sami have largely integrated into Swedish society and often live off selling reindeer meat, like our guide.  He told us of reindeer and their near perfect adaptation to the Polar Circle. They have large hooves and always have three feet on the ground while walking so as not to sink in the snow. Their sense of smell allows them to find a special moss, high in energy, meters below the snow. And since everything is frozen the majority of the year, they drink by eating snow. After showing us his animals he lead us to a traditional Sami tent where he made us 'reindeer kebab' as he like to call it - a typical Sami cowboy lunch.

I want one of these

Driving snowmobiles only came second in providing an adrenaline kick that weekend, number one was ice driving.  Taking a step aside from polite wording, it was a hell of a lot of fun! Taking off the electronic systems meant to control the car in slippery conditions and speeding around a corner of a rally plowed out of a snow covered lake and pulling up the hand brake to drift around is what I am talking about. Even if that meant crashing into a wall of snow, facing the wrong direction. 

Posing after tearing it up on the rally

Least adrenaline filled of these arctic activities and yet curiously fun was ice sculpting. We were given a block of ice and a chisel from a Florentine sculptor who had designed the entrance hallway of the Ice Hotel (the Italian is fortunate enough that the girl of his dreams should come from Kiruna - I really hope she was worth it!). Hacking away at the ice, I eventually sculpted a bust of a man with a hole on the top of his head suggesting the absence of a brain. Throughout all of the poor excuses of art I had made during school, I had never been as excited to make something.  The mind becomes filled with ideas of how to turn something as a dull as a block of ice into something creative. Maybe it was just the though of smashing something with a chisel.

Making myself comfortable
for the night

Another question entirely is how one spends a night inside a block of ice. The inside temperature of the Ice Hotel is kept at a constant -5°C, providing the humorous warning, "please don't sleep in the refrigerator".  Well, the truth is that it really isn't that bad.  You sleep on a mattress, covered by reindeer fur and inside a mummifying sleeping bag which is guaranteed to keep you warm. So the biggest problem really is the numbing silence, giving the sensation of being inside a sarcophagus. There literally are no sounds. No cars outside, no drainage pipes, no one flushing the toilet, no voices... and yet, I survive to tell the tale.  

All in all, it was an amazing weekend. I tried a lot of new things and spent some valuable time with family after all that time away. With good weather and temperatures averaging around a comfortable -1°C, the trip up north is certainly worth it.

And so ends my Andalusian Advenuture

Well, after 11 weeks spent living in Malaga, Spain, the time finally came to return to Stockholm. It was a difficult parting. I had certainly become accustomed to warm weather, beach and a general lack of any pressure.  Sunday breakfasts at our usual cafe, sitting in the sun, were hardly a punishment.

Cooking paella at the school

In case I'm conveying the wrong message, I didn't only spend my time dilly dallying in beach cafes.  I was also there to learn a language. In fact, if I do say so myself, my Spanish has improved a lot. Better said, from A2 to about B2 (The EU has created a standardized system of language understanding. A1 and A2 is for beginners, B1 and B2 for intermediate levels and C1 and C2 for advanced language skills). I've gone from hesitating and having to think about everything to simply speaking and applying more complicated grammatical structures to my expression.

The courses were good, but it was the teachers that made the difference.  One teacher in particular, Patricia, practically taught me everything I'm taking away from there. She would thoroughly explain new verb conjugations and vocabulary through her enthusiastic and interactive teaching. Furthermore she provoked us to discuss controversial topics like religion and the death penalty to have real discussion as opposed to talking about reality TV and paparazzi. However, some weeks with other teachers the pace became so slow that it felt like I was becoming worse at Spanish (essentially the times where we would talk about the latter two of the aforementioned topics). Nonetheless, I would recommend the school to others wanting to learn Spanish.

Drinking a "jarra" in Malaga's popular 'El Pimpi'

My knowledge of the language was put to the test when on my last weekend in Malaga, I was visited by good friends from Freiburg - Joaquín, Judit and Borja (my old roommate). Together we ate tapas, went to the beach, drank cerveza, and were up very late at night for activities provided at such times on the weekend. All in all it was too short but I think I speak correctly when I say that it wasn't the last time we see each other. After saying goodbye I gave myself a little pat on the back for having spoken Spanish with them the entire time :)

My fried sandwiches got quite good
towards the end

Leaving was difficult.  Realizing that I will no longer be drinking 5 cups of tea a day together with my flatmates and playing ping pong on the hostel terrace on nice days after school abets a melancholy not so easily amended. I leave Malaga behind with what I came for and much more. A conversational proficiency in Spanish, a host of new experiences and great friends.