I’ve given a lot of thought to the blog this week after seeing a discussion on PostSecret that I couldn’t ignore. A postcard (with bad grammar… not that it should matter) was posted this past Sunday about an individual who feels like there are those who are “showing off” when they talk about their vacations, and how the submitter did not have the same opportunities in life. This was something that had never occurred to me, and I think it was something worth considering really… I’ve always had the best intentions with my blog posts, and running a “travel business” it’s somewhat required (not that we make money on this… yet!), but at the same time I would like to think that what sets me apart from others in this area is that I’m not out to boost glory from my travels, you won’t just hear about how awesome what I’m doing is; you’re going to read real things. You’re going to read about things like discovering local culture when we’re able, about fears and aspirations that come with these types of opportunities, and the euphoria that comes along with some of the things we’ve been able to do in our lives. I’m here to share a story, to share my experience, to bring Antarctica just a little bit closer to home… and to share my passion and inspiration. I hope this blog inspires you, I hope you’re wondering just what it would take maybe not to visit Antarctica, but to take that trip… apply for that job… pursue that life goal. You can do it, I have no doubt! I’m the first to admit I have been very lucky in life, but never make the mistake of thinking there hasn’t been work put in on my part as well. Luck is an opportunity; you’ll still have to follow through. Do it!
Today, however, is about Antarctica, and with how many times I’ve packed for this trip I’m not sure anymore what I’m bringing and what I’m not… but hopefully that is a good thing. I thought packing for the coldest, driest place on earth followed by the warmest, wettest one would be a challenge, but I underestimated just what that would mean. There are weight restrictions on luggage, I’m carrying a coat (I hate that), I left the rain gear at home, and I’ll be wearing my long-sleeve button-down amazon shirts underneath my layers in Antarctica… because the cotton shirts didn’t make the cut. I’m waiting for them to question my carry-on (it’s a 3-day pack, full of nothing more than a few chargers, my camera, my Surface (on which I write these posts), and a few daily essentials. This alone is enough to be within ounces of being over the limit for the national airline of Argentina. I’ll let you know how this goes. It’s been the cause of a lot of anxiety, and I don’t think I’ll be planning this way again, ever.
At the same time, I’m always nervous before big trips. You can ask Jen if you want, she’s always excited as I’m sitting at the gate for the first leg of my flight with a constant “oh my God, what have you done this time…” line going through my head. A little apprehension is probably normal, I suppose, I’m leaving my daily routine behind and embarking on a great and potentially dangerous adventure, but at this point… all the planning is done, all the arrangements have been made, now it’s just a matter of making the flights, surviving nearly 23 hours of airplane travel over five flights (ugh), and remembering along the way that all of this is worth the end-result. I want to travel, I love it. I crave it constantly and find it hard to explain to people that no matter what day it is or what company I’m in, I’d rather be in another country and learning or experiencing something new. The people in my life are, of course, welcome to join me (I have an amazing group of family and friends), but the feeling never changes. The wanderlust is always there… I’d rather be traveling. Somehow, though, I still get nervous, I still second-guess, and no matter what I always feel under-prepared.
It helped to have someone drive me this morning (Thank you, Dad!), and it helped a great deal to have the check-in attendant stop by my terminal… look at the destination, and say “Ooooh. You’re going to Antarctica, aren’t you?” She recalled a tale of a woman some years ago who went that she still remembered, was familiar (as she is also trying to hit all seven continents) with the trip, and we talked about all of it together. It’s the first time I have been unable to stop smiling about this trip since we booked it. I’m sitting now, well through security and with a muffin and some coffee, still smiling about it. I can be nervous or calm, I can be worried or prepared, and I can have packed everything I need or forgotten everything I own… and it doesn’t matter anymore. The gate’s just around the corner, the plane boards in about an hour, and it’s time. Next stop Miama, Buenos Aires, a small town to refuel, and then Ushuaia. We should be there by tomorrow afternoon (with layovers, etc..), and I’ll let you know along the way if at some point I quit smiling.
