Emma Cook 

Well cool: yoga on ice in Swedish Lapland

Northern Sweden and the frozen Baltic provide a stunning setting for a yoga retreat that delivers as many thrills as it does chills
  
  

Frozen yogis: yoga practitioners assume a pose in the Arctic.
Frozen yogis … yoga in the Arctic. All photographs: Ted Logardt for the Observer Photograph: Ted Logardt/Observer

A small part of me longs to be in a hot yoga class right now, sweating it out at 43C. Scorching heat, any kind of heat in fact, feels appealing when you’re hanging upside down on a frozen ocean in Swedish Lapland.

Welcome to Ice Yoga, the polar opposite, promising a “more immersive experience in nature”, according to its creator Rebecca Björk, yogi and founder of Active North. And I couldn’t get more immersive than lying on reindeer skin in -17C with only a sliver of fur between me and the icy depths of the Baltic. We are a small semicircle of figures with arms raised, surrounded by tea lights as the sunset turns the ice from grey to lilac. “It’s all about what’s around you,” says Björk. “This is not just about the yoga.”

She has been practising yoga outdoors for years and now includes it in her new wellness programme, along with snow walking, ice sculpting and mindful meditation. I’m less convinced by the health benefits of ice yoga that Björk lists, from boosting blood circulation to making you more alert and energetic. What’s more therapeutic for me is simply lying here in the darkness surrounded by ice, star gazing and listening to the gentle clink of sea ice against the rocks. Physical sensations are more intense out here. Even breathing deeply through each pose is exhilarating, like inhaling crushed ice. Entombed in thick layers, a snow suit and rubber boots, you can forget your fast flow vinyasas. Moving into the simplest pose takes time and effort. Glacial yoga is more like it.

After a half-hour session, we sit on the ice drinking steaming herbal tea and then it’s back to our cabins for a home-cooked supper. Over an organic buffet of cured salmon, prune, orange, rocket and beetroot salad followed by goat’s cheese lasagne, Björk explains that the focus of her programme is to spend as much time as possible outdoors. Initially, I’m perplexed. Surely there’ll be a bit of hygge and hibernating around a roasting fire? Apparently not.

Panic buying base layers in London, I couldn’t begin to imagine what -25C would feel like and the prospect seemed daunting. But I needn’t have worried. The Swedish view keeping warm as an art, offering endless advice on the subject: never stay still outside; fidgeting is good; shake your hands down to get the blood from your core to the extremities; if you’re sitting outside, keep your feet off the ground.

By day two I feel like a pro, strapped to my snowshoes and hiking through freshly fallen snow. We stop for lunch on the edge of an ancient birch forest and, over an open fire, our guide prepares a gourmet feast of reindeer stew, new potatoes, wild mushrooms in cream and lingonberry sauce. It dawns on me that after two days in the wilderness, I’ve yet to meet another hiker, or anyone, in fact. Not so surprising when our guide reminds us that Swedish Lapland is the size of England but with a population of just 250,000 – not forgetting 120,000 reindeer. The smaller population could explain the level of affluence and efficiency here. In the nearest town, Skellefteå, even the outdoor shopping area has underfloor heating. Everything from the coffee cups to the local burger chain looks enviably stylish.

Inevitably, however, it’s the scenery and the weather that are most memorable. Turns out that what I dreaded is what I miss most now that I’m home. The dense, crisp cold and complete isolation – and both are in abundance at the Aurora Safari Camp on the outskirts of Luleå, perched on the edge of the Arctic Circle. It might be camping, but it is anything but basic. The tipis come with comfortable mattresses, duvets and a wood-burning stove, which is stoked hourly through the night.

Any remnant of fear I had about surviving in a snowy wilderness vanishes when I meet the camp’s founder Fredrik Broman. “To enjoy a holiday like this you have to stop getting stressed by the cold. It’s about coping with uncertainty and the unknown. The truth is, you will freeze a bit, and you should. It’s easy to come here with a Disney notion of what the cold is, but you will be fine,” he says, refilling our wine glasses. It’s 11pm by now. “So who’s going to try the sauna and ice plunge?”

We’re horrified, but somehow he persuades us. I wrap myself in a towel, sweat profusely in the sauna then plunge into a small hole in the frozen lake. The contrast of heat and ice is electrifying and completely addictive. Afterwards we stand in our swimsuits staring up at the stars. He’s right, there’s nothing to be afraid of – feeling this cold is perfect.

Way to go

Arctic Winter Yoga Retreats are run by Active North at the Aurora Safari Camp, Munkviken Resort and Byske Resort, all are in Swedish Lapland. All retreats are 4 days/3 nights and include full board and all activities. Prices per person are 6,500 SEK (£582) at Byske Resort, 6-9 April; 12,500 SEK (£1,100) at Munkviken Resort, 9-12 March; and 18,000 SEK (£1,600) at Aurora Safari Camp, 23-26 March. For more dates, visit activenorth.se. SAS flies from Heathrow via Stockholm to either Skellefteå or Luleå; or by Norwegian from Gatwick. Prices start from around £160 return

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*