Antarctica is another planet. When I leave Ushuaia, I feel a sense of alienation from the world, the ship is a spaceship that brings me to another planet, the white planet. We are 60, but I'm alone, in the waves of the blake passage , only wind and water, sea and clouds.
Antarctica is a place to live, 24 hours a day, with all your senses. monotony of white: there isn't, it is one of the most changeable place that exist, with so many colors, shades of gray, blue, green, red, standing out in bright white. a place no place, where the life of the rocks, ice, animals flows for millions of years, indifferent to the rest of the world and to man. time doesn't matter, except in that shell in the infinite that is the ship, the only remnant of "civilization" on that planet, unfortunately necessary.