Cold Comfort Hotel

I'm slowly realising that when I say "Do you remember when we were young we used to....." no one actually remembers doing any of the things I say. So I may be alone, but, do you remember when we were young we used to ask 'What would you rather die of, being too hot or being too cold?' I think I always said cold because I had heard of cryogenic freezing.

I'm trying to embrace the weather at the moment, in whatever form it takes. I have always wanted to go and stay in one of those Scandanavian ice hotels. I like the romantic image of keeping warm by curling up with someone on reindeer skin while slaves bring piping hot loganberry drinks to our bedsides, then up we would get, jump on a couple of huskies, ask them to take us down to the local ice mall for a spot of shopping before getting riotously drunk in bar ice. Then nightfalls and it's back on the dogs and home sweet -9 degrees home. The problem is, I have the same romantic image about holidays in the sun (minus huskies, plus donkeys) and when I get there all I do is moan about the heat!

I don't want to waste my cold holiday of a lifetime (not yet booked but in it's 9th year of being discussed) moaning, so today I decided it's time to start training in order to be fully prepared. I chose the moment when I thought the rain had reached it's heaviest and stood out in it. (ok so summer rain in St Albans isn't exactly a night in a glorified igloo but it's a start). Result? I liked it, I actually did enjoy it. I was cold and wet and I suppose uncomfortable as the rain filled my pants and shoes but I looked up, embraced it and felt all the better for it. Next stop a night in someone's freezer (we only have an icebox).
NB: If I do actually turn up in someones freezer it was NON CONSENSUAL unless it was my friend Cath who did it under test conditions.