Harbin - Stairways of Ice

Visiting the Snow and Ice Festival has certainly been one of the highlights of my life. It was staggering to witness what Man is able to create using the natural resources of the area - the clear ice that the Songhua River provides each year. 

In 1963 Harbin was battered by a series of natural disasters. The Mayor of Harbin encouraged the community to create ice lanterns. His aim, to restore happiness and bring peace of mind to all. The result was incredible. The community stood together. Worked together. In doing so, they created the biggest snow and ice festival in the world. Each year nature’s resources are transformed into objects of sheer astounding beauty.

After our lengthy walk-about in downtown Harbin, we headed back to the hotel for hot showers. Whilst preparing for our visit to the Ice Festival, doubts flooded our minds. After all, why would anyone choose to walk around on ice for three hours. In beyond freezing temperatures. Just to look at ice. Layer upon layer of clothing went onto and around our bodies. Heating pads were placed in all the strategic places. Smothered under our clothes. Adhering to every piece of available skin. Under each foot. In our pockets. Stuffed neatly into our scarves.

The journey to Zhaolin Park took about fifty minutes. It seemed an eternity. Our driver negotiated the treacherous icy surfaces with expertise. The traffic was heavy. As it always was in China. Humanity once more on the move. Despite being apprehensive about being on the roads, we felt safe in our cocoon of stale garlic and heated air. The man behind the wheel was intrigued by our blue eyes and our height. He fired questions at Debbie about our heritage. Often turning around in his seat to take a closer look at us. I used my best Mandarin to remind him of the cars in front of us.

On seeing the vast frozen landscape, I started thinking about heading straight back to the hotel. To that duvet. Stepping out onto the ice, I remembered my fear of slipping and falling. Daunting as that was, I gripped Debbie’s arm.  For a few seconds my fears subsided. Standing transfixed. Balancing precariously. What stood before us was a sight never to be forgotten. Statues, buildings, walls, towers, bridges. Everything, as far as the eye could see, had miraculously been carved out of solid ice. By Man. The brilliance of Man to create such splendour. The power of creativity. In which we are held captive. In awe. At times, in disbelief of what Man can achieve. That day on the ice, I stood in wonderment of the skills and genius of which we are capable.

Time stood still. The realisation of exactly where in the world we were standing pierced our bodies through the protective clothing. Right down deep into our souls. At that moment, the far northern part of China presented us with her most treasured display of art.

For over three exhausting hours, we plodded over the treacherous ice. Taking care as to where each step was planted. Securing balance. Debbie supported my every move. We stood motionless at times. Locked into the moment. Within each second, a new  icon came to the fore. At times Debbie would brave climbing staircases of ice to capture the right image. Or to be captured as the right image. I remained rooted on the spot. 

The natural beauty and sheer magnificence of that blue-white ice was breathtaking. Feeling the excitement of a child, my eyes darted from one magical scene to another. Wanting to capture each one forever so as to share with friends and family. The insanely freezing temperatures ripped at our heavy jackets. Piercing our exposed cheeks. Sheer exhilaration enabled us to shriek with delight at being so cold. A sense of utter madness combined with the thrill of experiencing life on another level wrapped us in a blanket of euphoria.

As the weak sun bid farewell to the ice, the sculptures were bathed in golden light. A symphony of coloured lights transformed the environment into one of fairy tales. However, we both preferred the natural colours of the ice. But now the scene was one of pinks, blues and yellows. Still utterly magnificent. The touch of magic captured in each ice block. Imaginations stretched beyond limits.

Wandering slightly away from the crowds, we came upon the Night Goddess. Exuding an aura of supreme power, she gazed out across the expanses of ice. Her elegance commanding respect. The subdued lighting around and below her provided a sacred space. At her feet, dozens of ribbons wafted gently in a bid to protect her space. The warm perfumes of incense filled the atmosphere. It was a beautiful moment. To be there in silence. To truly appreciate such art. Such creativity. Emotions became overbearing. Shedding the odd tear of gratitude for experiencing those extraordinary sights. The night sky was a deep indigo. The goddess was virgin white. The painting was complete.

It was time to head home to dinner and duvet. The magical heating pads were in great working order. After hours of heavy plodding we felt as though we were walking on hot coals. We ended up prancing around lightly so as not to provoke more heat from them. Incredible how, when one’s feet are warm and snug, one is empowered to take on the world. That was until we sat down to dinner in a well-heated restaurant. The warmth and the ambience mingled with the captivating exhaustion of the day. The cold beers added their own delicious hint of amusement as we sat giggling at the sight of Debbie’s hair once she had removed her thermal beanie.

To be continued …