| Sweden:
Icehotel Jukkasjärvi
 Author:
Anders Porter - 2001
Posted: 25 August 2002
Photos
by Arne Bergh
I hear the rap on my
cabin door, but because it's one o'clock in the morning and I'm
in deep slumber, I roll over and slip easily back into dreamland.
For some reason this dream involves a girl from high school named
Jennifer. Scantily clad in only a (unexplainably) wet T-shirt, she
is climbing on to the back of my motorcycle when -
BAM! BAM! BAM!
There's that rap-rap-rapping
on my door again. This time, I sit straight up in bed, wipe my crusty
eyes and look over to see the head of Arne Bergh, Art Director and
Ice Artist of the world famous Icehotel, peeping through my doorway.
This is no dream.
"Hej, Anders...
vi har..." Remembering how feeble my Swedish is, he switches
to English. "It's minus 5 right now. Let's go make some snow."
I nod or grunt or belch
in agreement and he closes the door and leaves me to get myself
together. As I begin the ritual of putting on layer after layer
of clothing, a disoriented and clouded thought crosses my mind:
"What the hell AM I doing here?"
I suppose that's a valid
question. It's the middle of the night and I'm heading out into
sub-zero temperatures to man snow cannons situated high above the
Arctic circle in the small northern Swedish village of Jukkasjärvi.
Sound a bit whacky? Perhaps. But to build a magnificent 65 room
hotel out of ice and snow, or even to have the idea to do it, you
have to be a bit nuts. Maybe that's why I'm here.
When I first read about
this place a few years ago, I knew I had to visit. The idea of sleeping
in lodgings made entirely of ice and snow was one that I found to
be exhilarating. Most people, I have since learned, are not exactly
in that same boat. There is a certain breed that actually WANTS
to sleep in an igloo. I feel fortunate to have been blessed with
those twisted genes.
The more I kicked around
the idea of a visit, however, the more I realized that a few days
just might not be enough for me. I might need a few months. And
I might need to actually help build it. And I might just need to
fire up a chainsaw and have a go at some genuine, honest to God
ice sculpting. Why the heck not? I had previously abandoned my cubicled
career doing business development for an investment firm in San
Francisco, and after a three-month stint in SE Asia, I was ready
for more. Even if more involved a temperature adjustment that might
be a little tricky for this Southern California native, I was willing
to go for it. So, after some brief e-mail correspondence with the
architects of the hotel, I was invited to Jukkasjärvi, Sweden
to try my hand and learn the skills of, well.... igloo building.
The birth of the Icehotel
occurred 11 years ago, as a sort of experiment in alternative architecture.
A close study of the design of the igloos of northern Scandinavia's
Innuit inhabitants (as well as other Arctic Eskimo civilizations)
suggested the idea that snow can be used as a very versatile and
durable building material. The right water content, the right kind
of snow and the proper environment are all that would be needed
to attempt such building efforts. Because Jukkasjärvi is frozen
for about six months out of every year, this small village in Lappland
seemed to be the perfect location. Additionally, the village is
situated on the Torne River, which freezes yearly, producing perhaps
the best ice in the world. The ice from this river is exceptionally
clear and pure, not only due to its lack of pollutants, but also
because the water that freezes is running water, producing ice that
is free from air bubbles. This high-grade ice is not only used in
the construction of the hotel, but is shipped all over Europe for
special events and for sculpting purposes. If you're an ice sculptor,
you've heard of this ice and know how good it is. If you're not,
you'll just have to take my word for it.
I arrived in Jukkasjärvi
in October of last year, anticipating a construction start in early
November. However, the silent but deadly factor we call global warming
pushed the start date back to the third week in November. Every
year for the past few years, the temperature has dropped later and
later, forcing the Icehotel building crew to put in long days and
late nights in order to open by early December. The temperature
needs to be a constant -5 degrees Celsius (23 degrees F) in order
to be able to operate the snow cannons 24 hours a day. While most
of the snow used for construction falls from the sky, cannons are
also used, allowing for the consistency of the snow to be monitored
and the supply to remain ample.
There are about 20 to
25 people involved in the construction of the Icehotel, most of
whom come from the nearby villages or the "big" city of
Kiruna and most of whom are paid for their efforts. (There are,
of course, fools, I mean apprentices, like me, who are there for
the heck of it, receiving room and board for their assistance.)
Many of these employees work as artists or on other construction
projects when they're not building the hotel. The bulk of the construction
takes place between the end of November and the middle of January.
It is usually during this time of winter when the conditions are
right for construction and the guests are eager to visit, so the
construction crew is fully staffed and hard at work.
"So how the heck
is it done?" you ask. Let me try to explain. A few years back,
it was decided that the best way to build the walls and ceilings
of the rooms and corridors is to spray snow onto forms, allow the
snow to freeze over a couple days, and then remove the forms. The
first attempts were with wood, which worked, but were very difficult
to work with and required much labor on the crew's part. So the
hotel hired a nearby steel production company to assemble steel
and aluminum forms on skis that could be easily removed with tractors
after each snow casting. This proved to be quite effective and is
the method still used today. After each casting (when the snow is
sprayed with a snow blower between outer and inner forms) the crew
waits for one or two days (depending on the outside temperature)
for the walls to freeze, and then they remove the forms and begin
the detailed inside work.
One of the most popular
attractions of the Icehotel is the bar (sponsored by Absolut Vodka).
Obviously, it is also made of ice. But perhaps the greatest kick
of all is the fact that the drinks are served in glasses made of
ice. The running joke with the bartenders and the guides is that
"here at the Icebar, we don't serve your drinks on the rocks,
we serve them in the rocks." If you find yourself thirsty for
a brew or maybe a glass of wine, you are unfortunately out of luck.
It's hard stuff only here at the Absolut Icebar. Which seems to
work out well with most guests, who are usually convinced that they're
going to have to drink heavily in order to stay warm and make it
through the night. So it's drink after drink after drink... it's
a good thing the glasses don't melt...
Europeans and Japanese
seem to make up most of the clientele at the hotel. Japanese visitors
come by the thousands each year, not only to experience the hotel,
but to gaze skyward in hopes of seeing the Northern Lights. The
Aurora Borealis phenomenon is considered to be a sign of good luck
to the Japanese, so when darkness falls, straining necks are abound,
hoping to catch a glimpse of the brilliant colors.
The activities are plentiful
and quite memorable. Most people who visit stay one night in the
Icehotel and one or two nights in one of the cabins on the property.
During the day, dog sled tours are available, as well as snowmobile
and cross-country skiing tours. Or ask a guide to drill a hole in
the ice for you so you can do some pimpling (ice fishing). If your
heart is healthy, you can try a little ice water swimming. You start
in the warmth of the sauna, then do a naked scamper to the ice pool
(just a hole in the ice, my friends), claw your way out and jump
into the hot tub. Your guide Hans Peter will be more than happy
to lend a helping hand should you, um, become a popsicle.
 Year
round business for the Icehotel is another reason for its success.
Two years ago, the hotel began work on a 1,500 square meter Art
Center, which is refrigerated inside and maintains a constant temperature
of -5 degrees Celsius. This has allowed for year round storage of
ice cut from the Torne River, as well as a changing display of ice
art. This year, for the first time, visitors will be able to sleep
inside the Art Center in igloos made of snow and ice. I had the
distinct pleasure of working with Åke Larsson to build the
world's first ice igloo in the Art Center; or at least the world's
first ice igloo inside a refrigerated warehouse. Something like
that. Regardless, visitors can choose to sleep in one of the five
snow igloos or in the ice igloo, even during the warmth of July.
And they can still get a little tipsy at the Icebar before hitting
the sack: the Absolut Icebar has been re-built inside the Art Center
amongst a beautiful new art installation which features traditional
northern Scandinavian and Sami scenes.
While the Icehotel is
obviously a one of a kind experience that offers brilliant art and
amazing architecture in a beautiful winter wonderland atmosphere,
perhaps its most valuable asset are its people. The employees at
the Icehotel are exceptional people. Let's face it, Jukkasjärvi
is a little bit off the beaten track, so those people who have ended
up there REALLY want to be there. This is a fact that is evidenced
by the quality of the work and by the atmosphere created by the
employees. Whether you're working there or just visiting, there's
a common reason behind what the heck you're doing there: there's
no place like it on earth.
So I'm finally dressed
in all my snow gear and I grab my headlamp and head out into the
black cold to man the snow cannons. It's simply a matter of watching
them closely to make sure that they don't freeze up, and making
sure that if the wind picks up, the snow is not being blown back
into the cannon. Most importantly, though, I have to check the consistency
of the snow. If it's too wet, it's no good; if it's too dry, it's
worse. As I stumble through the darkness towards the hum of the
cannons, I grin a little grin. I have just figured out what the
hell I'm doing here.
gather no moss... el_loco_grande@yahoo.com
http://www.icehotel.com
|
