To the Edge of the World

Can I just say that the fact I can share this live from the literal end of the planet is amazing? What a world we live in. But yes, I am in fact on the continent of Antarctica. I realize this is something that not many people will be able to say, and I think it appropriate, if not necessary, for me to share my experience and let those of you who can't make it down here know what life is like.

And the first question I want to address is: how the heck do you even get here?

I flew.

Thanks for coming, see you next week.

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Okay, obviously it's more than that. My initial destination was New Zealand. That was a standard enough trip. I flew from Albany to O'Hare to San Francisco. And from there it was a thirteen-hour international flight to Auckland, New Zealand. I stop our tale here to talk a little bit about getting through customs.

I think most of us who have gone international agree that customs might be the most daunting part of any trip, even more so than the many hours of flight time. The thought that you might get turned away because you didn't understand all the ins and outs of paperwork is a normal human's nightmare, and probably a professional bureaucrat's Christmas wish. Coming into Auckland at around 2 a.m. and needing to go through a bunch of government paperwork and inspections is not my idea of a good time. As is to be expected, a lot of it was waiting in lines and slowly shuffling forward to the eventual goal of one of the kiosks. I had the good fortune of seeing some other people with paperwork similar to mine, so I kept an eye on them and when the option arose, I went to the same customs officer that they did. Luckily she was a very friendly sort and understood when I showed her the letter and said "Just like those guys. Help." And can we just agree that customs declarations is a psyop? I had to declare one bottle of hot sauce and my hiking shoes. And to do so required that I go through an hour and a half long line to get told, "Yeah it's fine," and shoved on through in like thirty seconds.

But whatever. One more flight over to Christchurch, New Zealand, and finally I'm staring down the barrel of the Antarctic flight. While walking over to the hotel I'd be posted up in for a few days (more on that later), I saw sitting on the runway a cargo plane. It was like an ominous sign saying, "This is where you'll be soon. And there's no turning back when you get inside." I may be dramatizing a touch.

Either way, I was given my room key in the Sudima hotel and instructions to be at the Antarctica Center at 8 a.m. the next day for on boarding (again, more on that next week). And so we were ready to go. Kinda.

See, here's the fun part about traveling to Antarctica: the weather is not your friend. Wind, snow storms, freezing cold, they're all to be expected down here, but more than that, they make flying down to the Ice an incredibly challenging feat. When we first arrived in Christchurch, and even when I was interviewing for the job, we were all told that there could, and likely would, be delays to the flight. They would keep us up to date on what was going on, but just be prepared to chill in Christchurch for a bit if things weren't going our way. I arrived in Christchurch on August 13. I took my first steps onto the Ice on August 26. So yeah, you could say there were some delays.

Though in fairness, Christchurch is a lovely city. I wouldn't have minded some more time hanging out there.

Delays aside, yes, I did get here. We flew out of Christchurch in a C-17 cargo plane, with a cadre of US Air Force running the flight. Despite most of the passengers sitting along the sides and big pallets of whatever strapped down to the middle, it was a surprisingly normal flight. But Uncle Sam, listen to me, can we get more than one bathroom on the plane? I get that you're all about efficiency and whatever, but when some of the passengers had to be cut off as we began our decent--an hour before touching down--because the line up was too long, I think some improvements could be made.

And so we landed in Antarctica. While this whole post is mostly about the travel, I would be remiss to not share what it was like to step off that plane. The air field is in the middle of nowhere. All around was just a flat white field and mountains way off in the distance. I was filled with a tug of war between "There's no way this is real" and "Hell's bells, it's real and I'm here." Like it was hard to accept my reality, but the cold and wind and the sights meant that I had no choice but to face the truth.

There you have it, a few flights, a long delay, and one cargo plane later, and you too can get to Antarctica (mountain of paperwork before and during not withstanding). My world here is pretty small, mostly consisting of my dorm room and the kitchen, but every time I look out the window, I still get that feeling. "I can't believe this is real."

Stay tuned for more details about life here. Gonna talk a bit about my time in Christchurch next time.

Just something to chew on. (Man I missed that catchphrase.)