St. Augustine once said “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” I’d argue further that new places allow you to transform the pages of your own writing. My recent inspiration: The Hotel de Glace in Quebec, Canada.
The snow could be so fine that the flakes looked like glitter, sprinkled by some second grade angel with an art project in the sky. When you stand outside in negative nine degree weather, the chill isn’t a slap in the face. It’s a fog. The sensation of cold wraps around you, stripping your sense of touch and smell. Inside a structure made entirely of ice, though, there is surprising comfort. Staying the night in such a place brings fears of frostbite and (admittedly for over-reacting me) death, but waking up in the morning, triumphant in my negative twenty degree sleeping bag, reinforced this new inspired vitality. I know that in my head, there is a character yet to be written that will feel this pain and glory.
The Hotel de Glace was such an amazing piece of artistry that I had to include pictures in this blog.
Ice sculptors carved every wall, every piece of furniture, and every chandelier.
A new story is coming from our adventure, a story tinged blue from the cold and draped in Nordic furs. I’ll keep you updated with where it goes.
