The Land of Ice and Snow
Paradise has been found. But it looks nothing like you’d imagine. Devoid of foliage or warmth, this Shangri-La is a spirit lifting collage of blue, grey, utterly untouched white, snow, penguins and whales. Paradise is Antarctica, and it’s flawless.
Not necessarily on the top of most conventional holiday lists, Antarctica can only be reached by travellers in the fleeting, light-drenched summer months and remains almost completely untouched. Most of the human residents are scientists, who inhabit brightly coloured, eco-friendly research stations, and you’re unlikely to spot another ship, except for the ever-moving National Geographic Explorer. As a result, the wildlife simply assumes humans are larger version of themselves. This explains why penguins (when not doting on their fluff-covered chicks) chose to nibble your gumboots rather than maintain their mandatory five-meter distance.
It’s difficult to describe the beauty that surrounds you here. Even the photos don’t quite do it justice. Expansive snow-covered mountains, breaching humpback whales who find boat-dwellers fascinating, glaciers that roar and crumble into the sea, cacophonous penguin colonies, seemingly endless amounts of sunlight, sleeping seals and icebergs that take on a fluorescent turquoise hue as the day progresses. You feel so small here, so in awe and so full of joy. Looking around everything is simply stark, cold perfection.
But there’s a certain bizarreness to this place too. In the middle of nowhere you’ll stumble upon a British research station/post office, set up during World War 2 to keep an eye on the Germans, that’s now exploring the effect of tourism on penguin colonies (using penguins who refuse to stay within the boarders of their ‘control’ environment). If you’re interested, the station is called Port Lockroy and you can apply at the end of the month for a year-long posting. Miles away are the ruins of an Argentinian station, burnt down by a doctor who refused to spend yet another year alone on the ice. And then there are the bizarrely inspiring creatures you travel with.
In my two weeks I encountered a novel-writing expedition leader, wilderness-seeking doctor, a barman turned zodiac hoon and a superstitious chef with a remarkable ability to avoid parking fines and elections, simply by never being in his home country. Add to this the fact that you’ll most likely be travelling on a Russian ice breaker, that began its life as a Cold War spy vessel, and the Antarctic appeal only grows.
Uniting past and present, the bizarre and the serene, Antarctica is inspiring, incomparable and sure to leave you with ice, snow and future expeditions on your mind.
