Antarctica was worth every cent, every contraction, every wave of nausea. It was a bewildering variety of epic experiences: blinding snow, ethereal beauty from what felt like another planet, gentoo penguins, humpback whale tails, zodiac safaris, and Antarctic coastline.
And then, suddenly… concrete.
Stepping back into Ushuaia, I was grateful for what we had just experienced… but also ruined for the rest of the world. Ten days of ice, then abruptly a sidewalk and a trash can that didn’t appear to be sculpted by the wind. Reverse culture shock hit us like a snowball in the face and re-entry was surreal. As soon as our boat pulled up to dock, Patrick, Helen and I understood why the crew would want to turn around on the very same day the boat arrived, say goodbye to us, welcome a new set of passengers, and immediately set sail back across the Drake, straight for the uninhabited, snowy continent. Yet we had spent our whole trip whispering, “I can’t believe they do this over and over again.” But when we saw the America’s after Antarctica?
Oh, we got it.
'mi, my doctor, my backpack, & Pingüina encountering...ew. Concrete.
The tres amigos were yearning for white, evolving nature.
Back to the cold.
Back to the ice.
Back to a place where life made perfect sense.
Welcome to installment 7, the final blog. Seven posts: one to represent each continent. Except they’re all Antarctica and I regret nothing.
Logistics
Before Antarctica: Go to Patagonia, Argentina, Chile, Ushuaia, anywhere you plan on exploring during your entire trip. Roam through towns. Wander. Hike. Backpack. Cloud watch. Appreciate trees.
But do it before Antarctica.
Because afterwards?
Afterwards, Helen and I felt nothing but… polite, professional respect for all of the sights that we saw.
“Technically, yes, it’s beautiful.”
We tried to muster enthusiasm. We really did. But our retinas had been recalibrated to icebergs glowing that color blue.
Antarctica real estate.
———–
After Antarctica: Give yourself one night in Ushuaia. Most people fly out the very day their boat arrives but we recommend staying. Take a hot shower that lasts longer than two minutes.
Then go to the mall (yes, the mall). Visiting malls in other countries is always fascinating, and more importantly, it’s very self-aware to do something that doesn’t compete with Antarctica’s beauty. See a movie. Eat at Mostaza, the mall’s fast food joint. Get the dulce de leche milkshake.
Fly out the next day, ideally mid-morning, to avoid the cruise-ship-passenger bottleneck at the airport.
Should I fly over the Drake Passage?
If you can afford to fly over the Drake Passage, yes, do that.
If not, do what we did: go by sea and earn your Antarctic badge the old-fashioned (nauseated) way. Either choice is the right one. If I could have levitated above those waves while pregnant, I would have. Believe me.
“Not only does our baby have two eyes and ten fingers,” I wrote in my journal, “but her imagination has all of its fingers and toes too. She has known the jostles of daily life and the jostles of extraordinary life.” Turbulence, I concluded, is character building.
Bring as many friends and family as you can.
You’re going to want to share this beauty with everyone you love. But make friends on the boat, too. Some of the coolest people on earth are en route to the bottom of it.
Go during Antarctica’s summer.
I don’t usually (ever?) say this, but peak season is peak season for a reason here and it is worth the extra money. The Drake Passage isn’t as rough, daylight lasts longer (basically all the time), and the weather tends to be cooperative.
Book directly with the MV Ushuia (if you can).
They didn’t fully sell out the way I’d read they would so you don’t actually need to book far in advance. In fact, if you’re spontaneous (and not six months pregnant), showing up in Ushuaia without a reservation would give you more leverage.
Save all your money and go.
Truly.
Antarctica is a love I’ll miss forever. I dream of going back and will urge anyone who asks (and many who don’t): Go. I don’t know when I’ll return. I don’t know if I ever will. But part of me still lives there. Part of my baby does too. Thank you for indulging us.
Carrying Antarctica within,
‘mi & Pingüina
Adventuresam 
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