Hôtel de Glace // Straight Chillin’ at Québec City’s Ice Hotel

Winter is a hideous, ugly monster. This has been my stance for about… oh… my life? Maybe more. Most of which was lived in the American South where “winter” means occasionally having to wear a hoodie and that Kroger is sometimes out of bread. Now, I live in New England and I know what winter really is. It’s casually crashing your car into things (“Nothing to see here, people! Move along.”), being scared TO DEATH that you’re going to slip on ice, and the horror of accidentally bumping into your car – your black outfit suddenly stained salty white. Winter is a hideous, ugly monster. Enter: the ice hotel.

2016 marks my fourth New England winter and I’m finally at the point where I’m attempting to embrace it. Attempting. I promise nothing.

This is major progress. I’ve tried denying its existence through the copious use of space heaters, tropical island computer wallpapers, and coconut scented air freshers – that didn’t work. I’ve cursed it, spat on it, kicked it, and cried hot, angry tears for ruined car bumpers and pale skin. That didn’t work either. The locals insist, “Just learn to ski and you’ll love winter.” To which I say, “Screw you and screw your skis. I will never love winter.”

However, four years into this mess and I’m beginning to understand what they’ve really been trying to tell me. Not “Get outta the way, slow ass!”…. but the other thing…

Typically a hardcore hibernator, I leave my house for nothing less than the essentials, work and beer and because sometimes I know there’s a Victoria’s Secret catalog in my mailbox with a coupon for free panties. I don’t even attempt to travel in the winter because the air travel and black ice situations are utterly out of control. You think fishtailing in your Honda is scary? Wait until it happens to your airplane. On a runway that drops sharply into the Atlantic Ocean. “OH MY GOD WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!! I’m never gonna get my free panties!!!”

This year, I threw all caution to the blustery wind and booked a trip to Québec City in January. CANADA. In JANUARY. What was I thinking? Well, I was at Disney World when I got the email so I was knee deep in international cocktails and I guess I was thinking I will give this winter thing a try. Easier said than done when you’re in Florida and it’s 1 billion °F. None of my methods to end winter’s existence have worked so far. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? That sorta thing.

I’ve had three years to figure out how to dress to not die and to stock up on thermal underwear. God bless you, Uniqlo. Maybe this winter thing won’t be so bad? Shit, do not tell 2015 Ashley I said that; she’d kill me.

And you know what? I still have all my fingers and toes. AND some color on my face! OK, it’s actually pretty serious windburn, but pink cheeks are pink cheeks!

Part of my adventure in the Great White North was touring the magical Hôtel de Glace, Québec City’s own ice hotel, with my travel blogging pals from Camera and Carry On. And – I am snow in love with this place. It’s an ice palace. A winter playground for dorks of all ages. A short-lived monument to some of the greatest talent around. Most importantly, it has shown me that winter is not always a hideous, ugly monster. With the right design team, winter can be quite charming.

This is me, trying to be nice. I’ve found that when you’re nice to people (or seasons, sure) sometimes they are nice back. And sometimes (in Massachusetts) the person you stayed back and held the door open for walks right through it without an ounce of acknowledgment.

Also, I asked for 70 °F for Christmas and I GOT IT!!! I think winter wants to be friends.

Hôtel de Glace is the western hemisphere’s only ice hotel and it’s located in one of my all-time favorite cities, Québec City, Québec, Canada, the birthplace of poutine.

It’s 30,500 tons of snow and ice expertly molded into one of the most unique hotels you could ever visit. It’s more an ice art gallery than an ice hotel, really. But none of that modern art, I could totally make that, garbage. More a fantasy land, a playground for grownups, a dream world. A cold escape from an even colder reality.

How often do you drive six hours with three sleeping passengers and a box of Ritz Bits Sandwiches to another country to visit a hotel simply for the sake of looking around? Probably not that often. A hotel is a hotel – I spend most of my time trying to find ways to keep out of them. But this one is different. This one is close to a lot of poutine.

Thousandssss of people visit Hótel de Glace each year just to see it for themselves and I’m sure to act out scenes from the movie Frozen. It’s an incredible, temporary m-ice-terpiece that is built from scratch each year, enjoyed for just short of 3 months like all Rihanna songs, then violently destroyed by a snow monster named Marshmallow. The ice hotel’s design is unique each year awarding over a million visitors since its opening in 2001 with a literal once-in-a-lifetime ice-perience. I’m gonna do this until it’s not cool anymore. See what I did there?

Each December, massive snowblowers churn and, well, blow 30,000+ tons of snow over molds in a design completely unique from the previous years. The result is a building material hard as concrete. I know this because I punched it. I’m weak to temptation.

Case in point – you would think deconstructing the ice hotel would be simple, right? It’s snow. Just let the spring sun do the damn thing. WRONG, fools!

Come spring, the hotel must be deliberately destroyed, a task much harder than it sounds. One year, a bulldozer was brought in for just this purpose and instead of plowing through the structure with ease, the ‘dozer drove right up and over the hotel effortlessly. That’s how strong this shit is, yo. Also, I feel this is an appropriate time to remind you that this is WATER.

Hôtel de Glace offers tours perfect for exploring all the ins and outs of the ice hotel as well as learning all of their icy little secrets. Our group took the behind-the-scenes tour to learn about the hotel’s construction, visit the ice workshop where the elves work, and to make our own ice glasses for the bar. Because nothing says fun like the combination of alcohol and power tools! Man, sometimes the Tennessee just oozes out of me.

Each year, Hôtel de Glace is designed with a different theme in mind. For 2016 the theme is: Rivers. Underground rivers, African rivers, river animals, people who like to hang out near rivers, on and on and into every hotel detail. Thankfully they left out the muddy Mississippi River, Joan Rivers, and Matt Foley’s motivational speech about living in a van down by the river. The water used to create the hotel was borrowed from the nearby St. Lawrence River. Full circle here. I’m sure they fully intend on giving it back.

Eventually I stopped whining, did what she said, and got my mind blown. Because there is no humidity inside Hôtel de Glace, the ice is completely dry. It felt like touching glass or a granite countertop only with less spilled Ovaltine powder than mine. It wasn’t the slick, wet surface you’d expect from a chunk of ice. Your lips don’t stick to the ice glasses and your tongue doesn’t stick to the ice columns. I was told. I didn’t lick it. I thought about it.

Pierre is teaching us about ice. Pierre is about to show us how to carve our own drinkware from solid ice blocks without harming our neighbors or ourselves. Most of us will listen. One girl will not and will send a block of ice flying around the room. Listen to Pierre.

I am now a trained ice artisan. I will soon be drinking out of this. It’s whatever.

Soon enough it was on to the Amarula and my husband’s “Ski-Doo Accident.” Since nothing at Hôtel de Glace is half-assed, there was a whole presentation involved. The pine branch represents the tree you hit and the grenadine, poured slowly over the pine needles, dripping red into the liquor, represents your blood. Yay!

Each of the suites is an architectural masterpiece of its own built upon the river theme and was probably not created using plastic food containers. I’m not positive. This is all speculation. These are the questions I always forget to ask until it’s too late. The rooms are all cleaned, prepped, swept, and stocked with arctic-grade sleeping bags before the overnight guests arrive at 21:00. That’s French for 9 PM.

So you see, that bitch winter isn’t always so ugly. Sometimes she surprises you with snowflake walls and polar bear beds. On the rare occasion that I’m dressed appropriately and mentally prepared, winter isn’t such a monster and can actually be fun. If my husband were here as I write this he may be like, “What? I never thought I’d hear you say that!” or “Wow, that’s shocking!” He would also, most definitely, ask, “Are you ever going to give me my sweatshirt back?”

NOPE.

Wanna know what it’s like to actually sleep here? Read these reviews!

MORE INFO

Heading to Québec City? Read hotel reviews on Tripadvisor or book your room now!
But where do I recommend? The Fairmont Le Château Frontenac, but of course!
What else have I covered in Québec City? Check out these posts.
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