...it's still flippin' cold! Don't believe the hype!
In the Arctic circle, when your breath freezes on your balaclava and you think you might lose one, if not all, of your fingers as you've worn the gloves out snowmobiling that you've worn all day, so the accumulated dampness and sweat freezes them, it's more than just rub-your-hands-together cold!
I guess the landing at Kiruna airport and taxiing to the terminal, seeing a snowplough on the snow-covered tarmac, should have been a hint that we weren't in Kansas anymore.
And it wasn't too long before we were out in the elements....
Our first night was the hunt for the Northern Lights. And we weren't disappointed. Look, there it is there....
Coming back from our night of terror, driving (for the first time, and me - solo) our 750cc death machines, it turns out is was between minus 25 to minus 30 degrees. Beyond numb, but captivated by the Aurora Borealis in its bright green splendour, showing itself boldly and brightly at the 11th hour of our night out after a few whispy and underwhelming appearances earlier on in the night.
Thank goodness one of us had the sense to book us in the warm chalet that night. I've never been more thankful for heated bathroom tiles in.my.life.
Awaking from our slumber to a winter wonderland we readied ourselves for our stay in the minus 5 degree room in our super-sized igloo, the Ice Hotel. We explored the hotel's foyer, hall and many decorated and themed rooms...
beofre heading out for another adventure in Swedish lapland.
Thankfully, this time we didn't do the driving.
Then it was back to more humble accommodation for our night on an ice bed before being woken for a morning cup of warm lingonberry juice.
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