Chris Jones went on an expedition to Antarctica with Lindblad Expeditions, and wrote about it for travel guide Afar. This kind of trip is one of the things on my bucket list. It is prohibitively expensive, and might remain so for the rest of my days, so I must rely on Google, books and articles in the mean time.
If you enjoyed Stephen Pyne’s article on the Antarctic for Aeon Magazine, you will enjoy this one. Jones likewise struggles with the otherness of the place, the overwhelming whiteness of the ice:
Months later my memories of that trip aren’t like my memories of other trips. They aren’t even like my other memories. There are no colors, no tall buildings, no roads or signs or music, no snapshots of indigenous faces, none of the usual time stamps given us by day and night. There was always light, the sun setting spectacularly before changing its mind at the last moment and rising again, true darkness just one more of Antarctica’s vast repertoire of apparitions. When I close my eyes, there are only shadows and blurs, a hundred shades of blue and white, snow and ice, sleeplessness and awe. I don’t really remember specific locations, and I can’t say I fully remember moments, even. I remember the gooseflesh and lumps in my throat.
Read the full article here.
