But one of the unique and wonderful experiences to be had in Antarctica, actually is most delightful a few months later.
If you secure a postcard and stamp either from your expedition ship or on land in Ushuaia the possibility then exists for sending that postcard home or to a loved one, FROM ANTARCTICA.
I know, I know. I told you there were no stations that were inhabited when we were there. That's because only the British have a post office on the Antarctic Peninsula. In true South Pole spirit, they allow people to drop their postcards here and they promise to send them along "when able".
We never got to land at Port Lockroy. Time, weather and/or our more southern route meant that we sailed on by. However, also in the spirit of all things Antarctic, our ship crew told us that the next voyage would likely stop here and they'd mail them for us. Just a few days after dropping us back in Ushuaia, the Ocean Endeavour made it back to Port Lockroy and faithfully mailed our postcards.
The expectation is that they can take as long as 3-6 months to arrive at their final destinations. The British post office sends mail back to the UK and from there it's dispersed around the world.
We heard from other Endeavour ship-mates that postcards began arriving just 6 weeks later.
Ours - mailed to friends who took care of our pets and of course, to our pets themselves, arrived this week!
It's the little things in life!
I'd like to think our fur-babies were as delighted by the arrival of mail addressed to them as I was. Alas, Teddy gave it one good sniff and went back to watching "New Amsterdam" on Netflix, Wrigley thought it smelled funny and made a face and Rusty just glared at me like I was wasting his flippin' time, tucked his head and resumed his nap.
Traveling home from Antarctica was, as it turns out, the easy part.
Re-integrating in real life involved a "hard landing" and I found myself feeling some sadness, a touch of guilt and just being super-aware of my choices and the impact I might have on others, the planet and my future. Not all completely rational of course, but definitely all worth taking time to think more deeply about.
I also took extra time to review pictures of animals, landscapes and people that we had met along the way as well as those who leapt in with both feet earlier in 2022. My initial impressions were that the pictures were not great and I was disappointed. It has taken a MONTH to realize that there are no pictures that measure up to the memories I made and the experiences my eyes helped capture. Weeks later I can look back at the pictures and they bring great joy... I'm proud of them. They evoke memories that include smells and sounds and the temperature. All the things that my camera couldn't possibly add to the images, but my brain retains. I feel better now.
And when all was said and done, this blog was brought up-to-date and I finished a photobook in record time. I had promised Mark I'd make one if he traveled to the bottom of the world with me!
Our journey map:
The book looks like this:
240 pages of my best efforts to capture the bluest icebergs, most dramatic geography, quirkiest penguins and breathtaking whale encounters. A book that features few words and lets the pictures speak for themselves - evoking feelings of things that are not necessarily even seen in them. The few words are simply travel-related quotes that speak to me and of this journey in particular.
Note: The book is actually for sale on Blurb.com It might be just right for those who go to Antarctica but have more memories than pictures - or maybe those for whom the in-person journey might never be possible but who would enjoy a more virtual experience and can also appreciate the natural world as seen through someone else's eyes.
At the end of the day though, the person both least likely AND most likely to approve of what I've captured of the White Continent is me... and it turns out that's just fine too.
We left the Ocean Endeavour mid-morning on the 3rd. Steve, Kelli and Todd all went straight to the airport. Gail hung with us in Ushuaia until after lunch then also made her way north.
Team Antarctica was officially disbanded and while I enjoyed every minute just Mark and I, I also felt some form of lonely as the group split and by midnight, was thousands of miles apart again. Even later, as I write this there is an emotional twang that is hard to explain. We had shared something so magnificent. Getting there, being there, witnessing each others giddiness - it was all better together.
I have experienced tears of gratitude (and will likely continue to do so) for these 5 who willingly and enthusiastically joined me in the most arduous journey, the most expensive vacation, the longest countdown... to Antarctica. A voyage to the coldest, driest, windiest, most exquisite and protected place on earth would NEVER have been the same without them and I will never forget that.
So... Ushuaia. A little different than how I remember it in 2009 but still quaint, not really gentrified, colorful and interesting. Artistic and outdoorsy. A gateway to wildlife viewing, national park exploring and of course, Antarctica cruising.
We spent the day shopping for gifts. During the darkest days of pet-sitter stress, many of our friends had stepped up and gone above and beyond. There was never going to be a gift that measured up or represented our gratitude aptly, but we also wanted them to know we appreciated them.
Later that night we took Gail's recommendation and ate at Maria Lola. Great view, fabulous food, cozy and elegant atmosphere. How lovely!
Back at the hotel, an early night was in order. I could still feel the boat rocking gently beneath me. Waking in the night I found it hard to recall where I was and why. My brain was starting to transition back to the "real world" with internet and responsibilities and having to organize our own days again!
On the 4th, it was all about getting some walking in, making the most of our last hours and relaxing because tonight, we were sleeping upright in economy class or transitioning across Buenos Aires by car during the wee hours. It was not going to be pretty!
This was our boutique hotel on the hill. Worth the walk!
We found interesting places to eat. Not the least of which was this Triumph Cafe. I could almost imagine starting an epic motorbike trip from Tierra del Fuego and taking it all the way to North America. In another life, perhaps. My thoughts went to my British motorcycle guru/friend, Roger, who would have been in heaven here.
This dog knows where the good stuff is. Argentinian beef, cooked to perfection over the coals. The way he waited patiently outside lead me to believe it had and would pay off.
A little bit of silly is good for the soul!
And just like that, our time here in Ushuaia was over.
We departed Tierra del Fuego around 8:30pm, a three and a half hour flight to BA. It took most of the 5 hours on the ground there to gather bags, transfer across town, recheck bags and clear security again. The flight to Panama City was about 8 hours I think. I was thrilled to have clear weather most of the flight and spent way too much time staring out the window at the Amazon jungle over Brazil and Colombia. It's beautiful! Vast and thick and alive, with tributaries feeding smaller rivers, feeding larger rivers.
When the river changes direction, the jungle quickly fills the gap again... takes back the real estate! It feels like the natural order of things.
Somewhere near or in the Gulf of Panama came this view of paradise and shortly thereafter, we landed at Panama's Tocumen Airport.
Sleep was always going to be a bit of a moving target today. We only had 90 minutes in Panama before the third and final flight, direct to Denver - barely enough for a bathroom break!
Then... Welcome home to us! Denver turned on it's famous blue sky. Kathy and Mike picked us up at the airport with smiles.
I'd say that the first day back at sea wasn't so bad... As the forecast predicted. I spent the day engrossed in lectures, trying to squeeze in just a little more info, history and awareness of Antarctica. There was always something new to learn and the crew who specialized in areas were so enthusiastic about their topics.
Just when you thought plankton or krill couldn't be interesting - you found out otherwise. These building blocks to the entire food chain had me captivated. All that I thought I understood was actually a tiny part of the story and I was happy to expand my brain a little.
Our crew mixed it up with games such as "how big is it?" where you may or may not learn something new about the natural world but definitely learned something new about the crew!
In this particular game, we were in teams. Each team had a peg and when the question was asked, your team put a peg on the rope that was tethered across the room, with your guess on the length. Now sometimes it was "how big is the dorsal fin on an orca?" Other times, you had to guess the height of a ... Rune! (Our Norwegian Viking photographer.) Chaos ensued but hilarity hit its peak when points were awarded to teams coming in 1st, 2nd and 3rd. Arbitrary is an understatement. 1st place could get all of 17 points and 2nd place might be given 675.... A lot depended on what you asked for, if you were a first time winner and what (if anything) was going through the mind of the game host right then and there.
Then there was the charity auction. Donated items ranging from an "Antarctic $5 coin" to original art, souvenirs and THE flag that had flown on the Ocean Endeavor during our voyage. Scattered around the room were crew dressed in penguin outfits known as "champenguins", who were tasked with refilling the Champaign flutes of anyone who bidded. Yep... bidded, not won. It was a riot. Champaign was unashamedly being used to lubricate the bidding arm of anyone who looked like a reasonable bet. Our auctioneer was comical, fabricated details at will and was clearly unqualified. I laughed 'til I cried! In the end more than $11,000 was raised for the World Wildlife Fund. Success!
On top of that, I had photography meetings. I loved my photography group. Like-minded people who were happy to share and learn from each other, very supportive and encouraging too. Our "classes" covered topics like shutter speed and aperture partnership and composition (framing, reflection, contributing fore or background, disorder in order, silhouette, linear perspective, decisive moment, selective focus, panning, rule of thirds and color in a monochromatic scene). Each day we had been asked to lend some attention to one or two of these compositional focuses.
One of my favorite sessions featured a discussion about the word sublime; its meaning and how it could well be the word to describe Antarctica. A place that does exceed the limits of one's capacity to comprehend, describe and interpret. For me Antarctica was a bit on the transcendental side. I experienced it in a different way than a lot of my other travel.
There's a moment when you realize you are but a tiny part of the immense universe. Where your actions are barely causing a ripple in the grand scheme of things and become almost overwhelmed with a feeling of anonymity. I remember the first time I felt it and every time since. It IS sublime. I actually enjoy this feeling and love the freedom it offers my mind. It's dizzying - in an untethered way.
Ok, so there was another part of this particular class that was also one of the more deep and meaningful take-aways for me. Rune presented a slide show of some of his favorite images - art.
Let me preface this paragraph by saying all around the ship, hung large photo images taken by a professional. Landscapes of great beauty and isolation. Wildlife that stared into the camera with whiskers sharp and eyes sparkling. Mark and I had been talking one night as we ate dinner under one such piece. I described it (and all of them) as technically great but not very interesting to me, personally.
You can imagine my delight when Rune began his presentation stating that sometimes a picture can be made with focus, lighting and composition all catawampus (my words not his) and still be interesting... or more interesting because of it. It can tell a story, ask a question or just plain captivate you. YES!
We went on to visit some such art and I enjoyed having my eyes opened to all things that I was yet unfamiliar with. This "outside the box" enjoyment of something technically incorrect but compelling, was also freeing for me. His final message was for us to "find the human in the wildlife and find the animal in the human" when taking pictures. Love it!
As for me...
I love the wildlife in Antarctica. Finding the quirky faces and awkward postures, weird relationships across species etc is what makes it most interesting for me.
When it comes to landscapes I tend toward contrast, shadow, reflection and pops of color rather than scale and perfect composition.
And as you will have noticed... I loved, loved, loved icebergs and bergy-bits. No good explanation I can honestly give except that every one is different, captures the light differently and has a different story. Maybe 10,000 years of coming to be, right here and now. And tomorrow, it will be somewhere else, a different shape, perhaps rolled over already and for sure will never be captured by anyone else the same way that I capture it right now. I knew penguins floated my boat before I got here... but the bergy-bits and the emotional energy that I found in them, were quite a surprise.
The last day at sea was among the roughest as we neared Cape Horn. The ship made its way through high swells, rocking and rolling dramatically. For most people, walking was "fun" and keeping drinks and food on the table a challenge. For me, sitting upright for any length of time was the problem and I stayed mostly in my cabin - horizontal.
We entered the Beagle Channel after dinner and the seas calmed. I rejoined the other passengers for lively goodbyes and the swapping of contact details.
It was bittersweet. The images I captured from the deck seem fitting. Salt spray and waves left it shiny and clean. Just in time for sunset, the clouds parted and cast a beautiful light and reflection on it as we cruised through the channel and land came into view once more. The moon was full.
We were most definitely Ushuaia-bound... This journey soon to be just a memory and tomorrow night a fresh group of excited passengers would be starting out on the Ocean Endeavour.
I hoped the sun would shine brightly on their voyage and they would laugh 'til they cried with new friends, too. They had no idea of the memories they'd be making and how changed they would feel two weeks from now... How could they?
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