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|作者：英语点津 文章来源：China Daily 点击数：60 更新时间：2017/3/6|
Of all the hotels I've ever been to, it was my recent stay at Sweden's Icehotel which elicited the most questions.
Are you mad? Isn't it really cold? What do you sleep on? What do you wear?
In short, yes it's really cold, I slept on a bed genuinely crafted from ice, and I kept warm thanks to the strange space-age 'duvet suit' they provided me.
While the Icehotel has inspired copycats around the world, it all started here in the far north of Sweden back in 1989.
Nestled in the small town of Jukkasjarvi, it was first built by hotel pioneer Yngve Bergqvist - who was, at the time, regarded to be mad as a box of frogs.
As it turned out, the concept was a roaring success and each winter since then, artists from around the world have been flying in to construct the 65-room palatial structure from scratch, using ice from the nearby Torne River.
Come summer, when the sun finally wrestles its way through the winter-long darkness, the Icehotel melts back into the river from whence it came.
This year, for the first time ever, its newly opened 365 wing will remain standing all season round, kept cool - although it sounds impossible - entirely using solar power.
My Icehotel experience kicked off with an awe-inspiring tour through the gleaming corridors and vault-like rooms - each one more quirky, it seemed, than the last.
The band of artists spend months with tractors, ice picks and chainsaws to create this architectural feat - and the finished rooms are nothing short of breathtaking.
Following the tour, it was dinner fit for a (Vi) King in the property’s ski chalet-esque restaurant.
The food here is true to Lapland's native staples: chunky slices of reindeer filet served with creamy potato mash, glossy wine-infused gravy, and an array of plump red lingonberries. Desert is served on rustic ice plates.
After dinner followed a lengthy stint in the cavernous, candle-lit Ice Bar sipping neat whiskey from a glass which was not a glass, but in fact an ice goblet. After that? It was finally time for bed.
First, I am assigned a spacious walk-in 'locker' in the hotel's warm building. This is where guests leave their suitcases, change out of their ski gear and wriggle into their snoozing garment - best described as the love child between a sleeping bag and an astronaut suit.
The only thing that comes into my ice bedroom with me is my phone (I can't sleep without noise) and my stuffed monkey (yes, pathetic).
Fit snugly into a groove of my stately ice bed is a waterproof mattress topped with a reindeer hide. I shuffle onto it in my suit. There's a single light switch within arm's reach. I flick it off.
And so begins my strange and glorious night in what is, once it's dark and silent, effectively a large freezer.
I slept soundly, snug as a bug in a rug all through the night, until I was woken offensively early in the morning (7am) with a steaming mug of warm lingonberry juice.
This elixir, I’m afraid, did nothing to ease the grim task of emerging from hibernation. It was the only time during my stay at the Icehotel that I can truly say I was cold.
After waddling back to sanctuary in the warm building and being reunited with my belongings, it was home time.
Seldom few spend more than one night here, and it's certainly a long way to voyage for a single night. It's also expensive, with rooms starting at ￡220 and running up to around ￡1,000.
But was it worth it? Absolutely. And would I do it again? You bet I would.
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