Inside, everone looks the same in their capes and fur hoods. Maybe you'll think that you all look like you just stepped in from the Iditarod. Or maybe you'll think it's a bit odd that you suddenly have no individual identity because you look like every other person who was of the same questionable intelligence as you to pay fifteen Pounds Sterling to essentially freeze their asses off in exchange for the sucker consolation prize of one free drink and the thrill of being able to say, I've been there.
The bartenders will serve you right up with a colorful and powerful vodka concoction in a glass made of ice and your warm lips will melt their imprint into the glass, which is very sexy in a way but it's too cold for those thoughts. Still, the drink is strong and suddenly you're not feeling so cold anymore. Well, except for your feet which you will find are freezing to the point beyond pain that is known as numb. But don't dare sit down because the seats, like the bar and the walls and the tables and the sculptures, are also made of ice. Oh, and looky there, a giant Absolut bottle also made of ice. You can go inside and see what it's like to be, well, inside a bottle. Something everyone wonders.
When you've had your turn inside the Ice Bar and are now in complete understanding as to why there's a 45-minute rule, and at this point you're grateful for it, and you step out into the street to hear your friends say, Let's go to the Living Room, don't think for a second that that translates to someone's couch by a fireplace because boy are you in for a surprise when you discover that the Living Room is a bar with long red leather couches, prompt service, and the world's most challenging bathroom doors. But you manage. And (JOY!) everyone in your little group is so happy to be alive after their sub-zero experience, that you each end up buying a round.
Maybe you should go home now.
If you've done all this and you're invited to go Salsa dancing, refrain. Seriously, catch a Black Cab and head back to the hotel for a good night's sleep. Because if you do go salsa dancing, you're going to have to take a lesson since you can't really salsa dance, and your wobbly legs will tell you that you're asking a bit much since your Vodka and now Champagne(s) are flowing through your veins, but you, you lout, you will likely try anyway, and then initiate and participate in a couple rounds of shots. If you do all this, there is a solid chance that in the morning you'll wake up to find in your purse a membership card to the London Salsa Collective. With your name on it, baby.
If that's not what you're after, then my advice to you is to stay away from the Ice Bar.
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