Admiring the view from the summit of imaginatively named peak N26
My humble abode 
Another Antarctic summit, this time I descended in style, snowboarding
The glacier front of the Sheldon glacier, source of many of the icebergs in the bays around the base, as it retreats.
Tom roping up on the ramp above base ready for some survival skills training.
Tom enjoying one of the first rock climbs of the summer.
Southward Bound Once More
Yes, I’m off again.
But before I go on, first please let me apologise for my online absence. Now that I’m off to the back of beyond to resume my adventure in the name of science, I plan to write much more frequently.
The first time I went to Antarctica most of my friends and family were really excited for me. I think they shared in the nervous anticipation of the unknown. Each step I took on my adventure was thrilling.
Now though, a lot of them seem quite puzzled. Why do I feel the need to go back, again and again? Haven’t I seen what I need to see, had my adventure, had enough of the cold and the snow?
I must admit it feels different now than it did when I was planning my first trip. And my motivations have changed. Now I want to go so badly not to find out about another world, another way of life, but because I know I love that way of life and the freedom it gives me. Here's a poem I wrote last time I was south that might help explain what I'm talking about:
ANTARCTICA
To be here, to come here
This place with its view
Means so little to so many
But so much to so few
Who’ve been here, who’ve seen it
Who’ve felt it and lived it
Who’ve kept it inside them
And can’t live without it
Who know its uniqueness
Its whiteness, its bleakness
Who crave its togetherness
And love its remoteness
Who live with the secret
That others can’t know
That this place is special
More than rocks, ice and snow
A world in its own right
That floods all the senses
Such that nothing else matters
Outside of its fences
And each day I wake up
And feel it take hold
There’s beauty in isolation
And there’s warmth in the cold
And I know I’m in love
As each time I depart
All that I think of
Whilst we are apart
Is the day I’ll be back
On this floating ice shelf
Or this snowy mountain
And I smile to myself
Certainly not a work of literary genius but it does talk of that feeling that keeps drawing me back to Antarctica, the feeling that there's nowhere I would rather be in the world!
After a day out enjoying the stunning weather, including carving some turns on my board at the local ski resort - Vals, I prepared for a night spent weather watching. The recent bad weather has left us with a back logs of field parties to fly out so today 24 hour operations were called for. I'm duty met tonight and it suits me just fine as I can enjoy a few more shades of magic as the light slowly shifts and the clouds start to roll in. Soon the splendour will be hidden behind a veil once again so I'm happy to catch every moment. 
Below you see me making the most of a sunny interval amidst what seemed like a neverending storm. The high winds that day were creating some excellent flying saucer like 'lenticular' clouds over the ridge behind the base. I skied out for a spot of wildlife watching around Rothera Point and bumped into (almost literally) a few cuddly Weddell seals and some Adelie penguins, waddling their way through life in what appears to be a charmingly oblivious fashion.
My first voyage to Antarctica involved 10 weeks on board a ship, crossing the equator then on southwards via various little known islands and eventually bashing through ice nall the way to the ice cliffs of mainland Antarctica. This time, I left the UK on Wednesday afternoon and touched down on the Antarctic Peninsula in time for lunch on Friday.
Muchos giraffes
Above- Crazy Namibian rocks, Below- Crazy Namibian skies
Namibian Rock Art 
Susie chimney head in Barcelona 
Some building I quite liked
Me escaping a city, as usual
