We have spent over 2 days on the Drake Passage, infamous for being the roughest water in the world. I thought seasickness was something that happened to other people. Something that happens to the weak, but I am strong. I was wrong. Very wrong. I am ready to stand on firm ground.
But the third morning we wake up with anticipation in the air. And finally we approach land.
The first echo of land is a cloud in the distance. As illusive and imaginary as the White Continent itself. It is stronger in folklore than substance. It’s the land of penguins and ice, far away, the most remote place on earth, but now it is a cloud on the horizon.
Chunks of icebergs bob in the sea, more expected than the hardness of rock that solidifies to sight. The cliffs rise up in the mist as mysterious as the whispers and ghosts of the stories, books and photos of this place.
The dance of description pales in comparison to the freezing wind on my face, butting painfully like a frozen knife through warm butter. But the shrouded rocks glimpsed behind the clouds stand firm. I am here. The place you always hear about but never dreamed I’d venture too. Antarctica- even the word sounds foreign yet familiar on my tongue.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment