love those cupcakes

Lately

Outside: Garden tidying has continued (where do all those twigs come from and how do we stop next door's cats using one of our borders as a litter tray?); the cherry blossom has finally put in an appearance at the front of the house; lambs are now in residence in the field at the end of our road.

Inside: The sewing machine has been dusted off and a skirt of sorts has been made (yes, it fits and no, I won't be wearing it); cheap and cheerful flowers from the supermarket are still filling the vases; the Boy has evidently been whipping up frittata for packed lunches.

In other news: A deliciously long lunch enjoyed with a friend; the bedside cabinet renovation has gone from bad to downright embarassing (this has to be the worst paint job in the history of, well, paint but, by hook or by crook, it will receive its wax finish); a charity shop drop off resulted in buying stuff (a couple of books, one of which I suspect was probably mine originally, a necklace, a glass vase) that really isn't needed and kind of defeats the whole decluttering effort here; watching a gripping ('Captain Phillips: There's got to be something other than being a fisherman or kidnapping people.  Muse: Maybe in America, Irish, maybe in America') film ; managing an umbrella on a windy day.

Oh yes, and a holiday has been booked.  More on that later.

  

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 9)

“All the world loves a penguin. I think it is because in many respects they are like

ourselves, and in some respects what we should like to be. Had we but half

their physical courage none could stand against us . . . Their little bodies are so full

of curiosity that they have no room for fear. They like mountaineering and

joy-riding on ice-floes; they even like to drill.”

 

Apsley Cherry-Garrard, 'The Worst Journey in the World',1921

 
The last day before beginning the journey back to Argentina via Drake Passage, that notoriously unpredictable body of water between the southern tip of South America at Cape Horn and the South Shetland Islands. 
 
Early morning. The Lemaire Channel and a zodiac tour of the icebergs off Pleneau Island.  Later, a landing on Petermann Island, with its Gentoo residents, the southernmost colony, many of which were busy feeding their babies.  A glimpse of a darker side of nature as several adult birds repeatedly attacked one of the smaller chicks, pushing it off the rocky outcrop.  Unable to intervene, we watched as the poor creature  slowly clawed its way back up the rock, only to experience the same aggressive behaviour.

 A hike in deep snow up to a small colony of Adelie penguins, resplendent in their glossy tuxedos and with their distinctive white rimmed eyes.  A cairn and large cross commemorating three members of the British Antarctic Survey who perished in 1982 as they attempted to cross the sea ice from Faraday station to Petermann.  More penguins surrounding an Argentine emergency hut, a remnant from the 1950s.

 And, of course, a champagne toast. 

 

To the Antarctic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 8)

Day 17.  The Antarctic continent. The southernmost, coldest, windiest, driest, highest and most remote.  Waking very early to snow, peaks, icebergs, reflections, stillness. 

After a quick breakfast, a landing at Neko Harbour and opportunities for Gentoo penguin and Weddell seal watching on the rock strewn beach.  Taking time to put the camera down and just absorb, just relish the strange light, the silence.  Then a hike up through deep snow to reach a vantage point overlooking Neko Glacier.

Snowfall (and the other kind of fall whilst moving out of the way of a determined Leopard seal) in the afternoon as the zodiac negotiated a tricky landing at Danko Island.  Mingling with yet more Gentoos and a glimpse of a baby or two.

Later, the chance to get up close to icebergs and an ice whale.  Much much later, the real thing as the ship, making steady progress through the night, was escorted by a pod of Humpbacks.  So big.  So magestic.  So very difficult to photograph.

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 7)

'It's just that there are some things women don't do.  They don't become Pope or President or go down to the Antarctic'.

Harry Darlington, chief pilot on Finn Ronne's 1946-8 Antarctic Research Expedition

 

So. Onward towards Antarctica, the highlight of the trip.  Waking up to glorious weather and a very different landscape.  Sailing past icebergs larger than the ship, crawling with ants which turned into penguins when viewed through a lens.  

Just off the Antarctic peninusula is Deception Island, an active volcano.  Another early morning landing by zodiac at Telefon Bay and a welcome committee of a perky Chinstrap penguin or five and a basking fur seal.  Then a tricky hike up a steep hill of volcanic ash to view one of the craters. 

In the afternoon, a landing on a cobbled beach at Half Moon Island.  Once the haunt of sealers, now home to a colony of Chinstraps high up on a rocky outcrop, a lonesome Gentoo and the Argentine summer research station Camara with its giveaway national flag on the roof.

Next stop:  the Antarctic continent.

To the bottom of the world and back (part 6)

Final day in South Georgia.  An early morning zodiac ride to Gold Harbour, at the southern end of this stunning island, with the Bertrab Glacier at its head.  Tussock hillside, hanging glaciers and vertical cliffs which rise straight out of the sea create a perfect backdrop for the gobsmacking abundance of wildlife.  Along with the brown Skuas, which were on constant lookout for scraps, we walked amongst fur seals, enormous battle scarred elephant seals, Gentoo families, King penguins. Hundreds, probably thousands, of King penguins.  Penguins as far as the eye could see.  Some still moulting, some with the telltale bulges of eggs still being incubated, some with their giant chicks, the so called Oakum Boys, sporting brown fur coats.  Unforgettable sights, sounds, smells.

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 5)

'For scientific discovery give me Scott; for speed and efficiency give me Amundsen; but when disaster strikes and all hope is gone, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton'.

(Sir Raymond Priestley)

Second day at South Georgia and an early morning zodiac tour around Godthul on the eastern side of the island. Unlike the Falklands, South Georgia has no permanent population, it never has had (no runway, no railway, no roads, this is the sub-Antarctic after all), though there are several active research stations (staffed by people working one or two year contracts) and evidence in a couple of areas along the coast of a long since abandoned whaling industry.

The first and most significant whaling station was established at Grytviken (also the base for the island's very limited government), which operated through the season each year from 1904 until the 1960's when whale numbers were so low continuation was unviable.

The weather was glorious on the day we visited (the pictures are straight out of the camera).  We hiked  a very boggy mile or so up to Gull Lake, toasted Sir Ernest 'The Boss' Shackleton, who is buried in the little whalers' cemetery, at his graveside, mailed postcards (they've yet to arrive) in the hard to locate postbox, visited the little museum, marvelled at the amazing cloud formations which looked for all the world like flying saucers and remembered my dad on what would have been his birthday.

(Pin tailed duck)

 

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 4)

'South Georgia is for those who grew up dreaming of a Garden of Eden, where you would walk unharmed among abundant and fearless wildlife in a beautiful wilderness - an oasis of serenity in a world increasingly out of step with nature'.

(Tim and Pauline Carr, Under the Spell of South Georgia)

 A spectacular island in the South Sandwich group, South Georgia was first spotted (maybe) in 1675, though the first landing didn't take place until a hundred years later when someone else from Middlesbrough claimed British sovereignty.

Salisbury Plain and Fortuna Bay on the north coast.  A heavy, early morning mist covering peaks towering almost three thousand metres above sea level, muting colours, muffling sounds.  Colonies of magnificent King penguins in both locations.  Penguins on the beach, in the sea, in glacial ponds, zig zagging in the far distance along rivulets down the mountainside. Large boulders turning into feisty fur seals.  Inquisitive seal pups, one of which (let's call him Alan) became rather attached.

on the far hillsides, on ragged rocks near me, in the valleys and in the glacial streams. - See more at: http://www.goworldtravel.com/travel-a-walk-with-kings-south-georgia-island-antarctica/#sthash.w3mKu95y.dpuf

on the far hillsides, on ragged rocks near me, in the valleys and in the glacial streams. - See more at: http://www.goworldtravel.com/travel-a-walk-with-kings-south-georgia-island-antarctica/#sthash.w3mKu95y.dpufFeisty fur seals.  Inquisitive seal pups, one of which (let's call him Alan)  I, erm,  became rather attached to.

 

 Oh, Alan...........

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 3)

 'But if it's peace and quiet you are after, rugged, windswept beauty, with ever-changing light, the most wonderful wildlife and fishing......, then you'll find them all in abundance in the Falklands.'

(Falkland Islands Government, 1973)

Plans to visit Sea Lion island had to be changed due to sea conditions which would have made landing (our first) via the zodiac inflatables a tad tricky.  Instead, feeling somewhat awkward  (too warm, even) in bulky bright red parkas, waterproof boots and life jackets, we found ourselves on Bleaker, a long, thin, mostly flat island situated south of Stanley in East Falkland.

This is actually a privately owned working farm which is also home to several colonies of penguins.  Magellanics, easy to miss whilst exploring the island with their preference for burrowing and nest building under shrubs, the distinctively orange billed Gentoos and, on the more rocky side of the island,  the smaller, cheeky chappie crested Rockhoppers (possibly my favourites of all the penguins we mingled with on the entire trip).  It was the perfect time to visit as the chicks were still evident in the various rookeries and time passed all too quickly as we sat on the rocks, watching the to-ing and fro-ing and attentiveness of the parent birds.  

The following two days were spent sailing the Scotia Sea and then the next landing:  South Georgia.

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 2)

 So.

Tierra del Fuego. 

Or more specifically its capital, Ushuaia ('Ush-why-a'). 

At the southern tip of the South American mainland.

The southernmost city in the world and, at a distance of 4,000 km north, the city closest to the South Pole.

With a fast growing population and sprawl of housing as Argentina has sought to strengthen its position in the area.

Nudging the border with Chile, Ushuaia is stunningly situated on the Beagle Channel where the Andes meet the ocean.

The so called end of the road.

It was very cold and pouring with rain when we arrived.

And our hand luggage, containing amongst other essentials our passports and jackets, had disappeared. (The overhead lockers in the small plane from Buenos Aires were full when we boarded so our carry-on bags were swiftly removed to be stored in the hold.)

Needless to say, sightseeing was largely limited to whatever could be viewed through the steamed up bus windows.

But the weather is constantly changing in Ushuaia and our main reason for being there was to meet up with the French ship which would take us further south.

That hand luggage?  Miraculously, it was awaiting us in our cabin.  Along with someone else's suitcase.

Next stop:  The Falklands and first encounter with wildlife.

 

 

To the bottom of the world and back (part 1)

First stop, 24 or so hours after dropping off Boo at his holiday home, was Buenos Aires.

Capital of Argentina and associated with Maradona, protests and public demonstrations, Evita, dulce de leche, fileteado, the River Plate, ice cream and tango.

Oh yes, and beef. Vegetarian/vegan food was not easy to find.

With no obvious centre, Buenos Aires has a number of very distinct neighbourhoods, including Recoleta, with its European feel, architecture and cementario, San Telmo, one of the oldest comminities in the city offering a wide choice of tango clubs and the lively and colourful,  if touristy, La Boca.

Most areas were largely walkable though it was very hot and street crime (tourists are a main target) is a real problem.  I have to admit I didn't fall in love with Buenos Aires but it was worth visiting and handy for catching a flight to our next destination:  Tierra del Fuego.