Anybody who knows me is well aware that I’ve spent most of the last few decades in pursuit of somewhere warm. When Jimmy Buffett sang about being “umbilically connected to the temperate zone” I could identify. When I chose to spend the last two Christmases with grandchildren near International Falls, MN., the renowned coldest place in America, there was great climactic sacrifice.

Why then would I allow myself to be coerced into visiting the Svedka Ice Bar on the Norwegian Epic, the first “ice bar” at sea? Sure beats an ice berg, doesn’t it?

But why indeed!

Let me tell you a little bit about the Ice Bar. It serves vodka-laced drinks. I don’t drink vodka. The “cups” are made of ice. I prefer drinks without ice in them. Furry “coverings” are mandatory for survival. I used to wear a fur coat, but it’s not even remotely practical for my adopted climates.

How cold was it?

So cold that my hands were shaking when I took the picture below, of the bartender.

The temperature inside the Ice Bar is 17 degrees. That’s Fahrenheit. If it was Celsius, I don’t imagine the ice would survive (but I would). Oh yes, and people pay $20 to do this. For $20 they get (a) two drinks and (b) to stay for 45 minutes.

Who would stay 45 minutes?

Uh, me. I enjoyed it. I wasn’t that cold…maybe because I drank vodka. It was as comfortable as 17 degrees can be.

“I love it,” our daughter said. “My parents, drinking vodka!”

People tend to go in and out of the Ice Bar in groups, once they don the appropriate icewear. Our group was about 10 people. If we weren’t the last to leave, we were almost the last.

Bob would’ve stayed longer, even though he’s not a vodka drinker either. There was a football game on the Ice Bar TV, and he’s used to watching football games in the cold.

As for me, I figured if the bartender — who works a five-hour shift in the Ice Bar — can stay that long and live to tell about it then I wasn’t going to bail. After all, he’s from the Philippines.