'Why Antarctica?" was the question from friends and family when we chose the "bottom of the earth" as a holiday destination.
"Going to chill with the penguins," was what I replied, but I imagined natural floating ice sculptures, massive surreal white mountains, and the random glacier.
The truth was that I wasn't entirely sure what to expect apart from the fact that we were to travel through Antarctica on the luxury cruise ship, the Marco Polo, thanks to the generosity of my grandmother who forked out more than a hundred grand for it all. It was a once in a life-time opportunity you simply could not turn down.
We flew from Durban to Johannesburg, to Buenos Aires and then onto Ushuaia, spending two nights at each location. Of course our luggage, which consisted of specially purchased meant-for-sub-zero-degree-temperature clothing, got lost en route.
Our specialised gear, which cost thousands, included thermal underwear, thermal socks, a thermal tracksuit, waterproof gloves, glove liners, waterproof pants, and a whole bunch of other warm clothes. The bright red parkas and rubber boots, which were also mandatory for the trip, would be supplied by the ship.
So my father and I arrived at Ushuaia at the bottom of South America, which has snow on its mountains in the summer, with nothing more than our electronic equipment and our subtropical climate clothes. Thank goodness for our leather jackets.
After much misinformation from the airline in question, whose phones are very seldom answered, our luggage arrived at Ushuaia airport two hours before we boarded the ship.
How did we know it was at the airport? We didn't. We went to the airport out of desperation in the hope that our luggage would be there. We even went so far as to price all the items in our luggage in the event that it would never arrive.
A few hours after boarding the cruise ship, it became clear to me that if you are not accustomed to your centre of gravity constantly rotating 40 degrees in alternating opposite directions, then a ship sailing through rough waters should not be your choice of travel.
A new found friend on board told me that apparently the younger you are, the more susceptible you are to sea sickness. A day or two later, however, the sea sickness subsided.
The ship itself was relatively small as far as cruise ships go with about 500 passengers. On most days the view from the ship was majestic.
Standing on the ship's deck, breathing in the beauty of the surroundings, I deeply inhaled what I anticipated would be the cleanest air of my life when I gagged at the stench of cigarette smoke emanating from a single passenger on the other side of the deck.
I was so affected and vocal about the experience that my father, an ethnographic film expert, began writing an essay examining the culture of smokers versus non smokers onboard the vessel.
An abundance of food was available on board with a choice of either a buffet or gourmet meal and various snacks in between.
There are some things to bear in mind when travelling by ship towards sub-zero conditions: the freshly boiled coffee is always lukewarm, the sun doesn't move, and standing in the front of the ship renders your lips cold and immovable and the cold air manages to get through that little unzipped pocket on your thermally insulated parka.
We encountered our first iceberg on the second day of sailing - the first of hundreds to come. I was looking forward to landing at one of the few research stations situated in Antarctica, but was told that landings were dependent on the weather conditions which were unpredictable. I fortunately had the opportunity to land twice.
The first was at Port Lockroy. Dressing up in my mandatory bright red parka and with as many layers of clothing as I could fit, showed my lack of knowledge of the climate, prompting a Ukrainian ship staff member to comment: "This is South Pole. Is not North Pole."
Feeling like a giant red penguin I then departed on the Zodiac, otherwise known as a rubber duck boat, travelling from the ship to the port against a 17 knot wind which means ice cold water splashing into the boat and onto the passengers, which finally gave me the opportunity to break in my expensive waterproof gear which I only needed for those few minutes of the trip.
We were told earlier that the wildlife had not had much interaction with humans and therefore have not been taught to be afraid of us.When I say wildlife I mean penguins.
They stared back at us, as if to ask, "So what species are you anyway?"
Unknown to us at the time, the short half an hour we had to walk around almost turned into a few days as the captain had considered leaving behind the few of us who had managed to land on the island when the wind increased from 17 knots to 34 knots in a matter of five minutes. The cut off allowance for travelling in the zodiacs was 20 knots.
We were taken back to the ship despite the rough sea conditions, a few passengers were nearly thrown overboard, whereupon four attempts to dock at the ship had to be made before passengers eventually climbed aboard.
The most memorable time for me was that spent on the Lemaire Channel.
The sights of vast floating ice structures up close were a welcome change after not being able to enter Deception Island due to poor weather conditions.
This was an investment in unforgettable memories in an almost spiritually cleansing glacial utopia.