On top of the mountain plateau in Norway, close to Dyranut Turisthytta, is a place seems to be frozen in time even though it’s summer. The land is covered with snow and ice with a single shack in the middle of nowhere. How can anyone live in this environment? I wonder how long has one to wait for the elements to melt and show a field of grass and wildflowers?
In the book of Paradise Lost, the vision of hell is not fire and brimstone but being buried frozen in ice. Cold, pure cold.
Here are my royal subjects, the priests, enjoying their time in “hell.”
This place is an IceBar Hotel in Stockholm. One of a kind. It took 40 tons of water to build the facility. The temperature all year round minus 5 degrees celsius. Quite warm actually when parka is provided by the bar.
I must admit when traveling on a pilgrimage, there is precious time waiting. Knowing this, I brought a knitting project to keep my hands occupied. Pilgrims were wondering what I was working on. Secret. The secret was who will receive this project at the end of our trip. Should I raffle it amongst them?
After all the praying and discernment, I gave the shawl to our fearless leader. She deserves it.