Polar medals for the Irish Team

Last week, I found myself in Ireland in the front row of the amazing one man show - Tom Crean Antarctic Explorer, sat next to Tom Crean's eldest daughter, Mary Crean O'Brien.

Aidan Dooley brought to life in a magnificent 2 hour monologue, the life of the Irish Polar hero Tom Crean who served on both Scott's and Shackleton's expeditions to the icy South.

This is a must see for anyone slightly interested in the heroic age of polar exploration or indeed anything to do with the Antarctic, I can see why the show is so highly rated.

It also brought back vivid memories of my trip to the South Pole, I cannot believe I was there on the 8th January this year...this year...! I think I have been so busy I hardly give the details of the expedition a second thought these days, I have certainly forgot about the pain of walking 1150km! Aidan reminded me what we went through to achieve success in the face of such adversity.

At the end of the play the Tom Crean society had arranged for a memorial medal ceremony for the 4 of us (myself, Pat, Clare and Shaun) - my Polar medal was awarded to me by Tom Crean's daughter, now 90 years old and still as strong, vivid and articulate as her blood stock would presume - I am honoured, and proud of my Irish heritage.

Watch a clip of the play here

Read a review of the play here

The Tom Crean Society host Irish Explorers

Shaun (my tent mate and Antarctic best friend) and I were invited to give a talk on "Surviving Polar Extremes" recently at a packed out auditorium at Trinity College, Dublin.

The Tom Crean Society was set up on December 12th 2001, the Centenary of Scott's 'Discovery' Expedition. Their aim is to preserve and promote the memory of this great Irish Polar explorer.

Shaun and I gave a detailed and emotional re-enactment of our recent expedition to the South Pole. I believe the audience benefited from the two of us reliving the daily grind and awful conditions of Antarctica, from our own unique perspectives. Whilst we both very much experienced the same conditions, they affected us in very different ways. Shaun and I both agreed afterwards that there were moments when we both felt we were back on the ice and in the tent squabbling about the most mundane of things.

"Dear Jonathon,
I can't express my appreciation for a wonderful evening. The feedback I have been getting is that it was a riveting evening. One man who finds it difficult to sit still never budged all during the presentation, his wife told me!

It was extremely moving on many levels and there was something very important in the experience of being there last night for each and everyone of us. The Tom Crean Society is so grateful to you for coming over and doing this for us. I think it will be the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship with the Society.

The very best of wishes

Eithne Casey
Chair of the Tom Crean Society (Dublin Branch)"

We've made it! - 57 days, 4 hours and 5 minutes

It was a grey smudge in the distance, barely visible on the horizon, at first I thought it was a trick of the light reflecting off an overgrown sastrugi, I knew in my heart what it was, but wouldn't believe it, I put my head down and looked at my skis as they shuffled forward. 10 minutes later I glanced up again, squinting in the bright sun - it was finally the South Pole. For hours it didn't seem to get any closer, by camp time it was 22.85km away, I wanted to continue on, but we were shattered - tomorrow we would reach our goal.

I awoke excited and raring to go, the accumulated exhaustion in my legs was gone, the lack of decent food and clean clothes were distant memories. I was first to have my skis on and harnessed to my sledge like pony and trap. I slowed my pace after an initial rush of blood and made sure I savoured what would be my last steps on Antarctica (well for this year anyway!)

I wanted to enjoy these last moments alone with my thoughts.

Suddenly the smudge became a building, then other black dots joined to become a compound, soon a whole village on the ice appeared before us. Engine noises, the smell of diesel, lone figures rushing between buildings, all strange visions - was I dreaming?

A single shape clad in black, walked purposefully towards us, the first person we have seen in 2 months. Shelly a communications officer at the US run South Pole station, escorted us to the actual geographic South Pole marker, an engraved brass plate atop a nondescript pole, it reads '90 South, January 1 2008 Geographic South Pole, NSF' - NSF is the National Science Foundation, who run the research here (amazing stuff, Dark matter, neutrinos and helio seismology!)

It was -25c, I was overwhelmed, we had done it, defied the critics (there were many in the 'know' who doubted we would do it,) and delighted our supporters, we had walked from the edge of the Antarctic continent to the bottom of the earth. As chief photographer, I had to snap out of it and set up the team shot for the press - the 1st Irish team to ski to the South Pole. None of us really knew what to say or do after so long on the ice, the bright coloured flags, strong smells and people were an overload to our senses.

Shelly kindly ushered us into the space station looking building for coffee and a cookie, I went straight to the toilet and sat on the loo seat for the first time in 58 days.....incredible.....no more cold bum - we have finished!

Finally, the Polar Plateau - Day 52

We have reached the Polar Plateau, the landscape has changed, no more hills or rough sastrugi, no more frozen statues of dinosaurs to weave our way around - just flat snow, perfectly level and even for as far as the eye can see. I'm leading this leg, out in front of our 4 man wagon train. I can only see two things, the top half of my view is a perfectly blue sky without clouds and it suddenly changes half way down to a pure white sea of snow, no other colours or objects, as if an artist had only two colours on his palette and painted one half of the canvass horizontally blue and the other pure brilliant white....it is an incredible sight.

I stop a while to let the others catch up, there isn't a breath of wind, and for a few moments there is the most incredible silence, as if I'm the only person on the planet, in fact it doesn't feel like I'm on this earth at all, at this altitude with the air so thin, and the temperature at minus 25 degrees Celsius, I could be in outerspace, rather than this icy desert.

I look round to see the others and can't believe what I'm looking at, 3 nomads, zombies or skeletons all shuffling towards me, heads bowed, lost in their thoughts, on autopilot, one foot sliding infront of the other, straining against the weight of their sledges as they sink into the soft snow.

We are moving so slowly, in order to make the pole by the 8th January, we have set a daily distance target of 23.4 km, we keep walking no matter how long it takes. This is different to what we've done the last 7 weeks, which is to stop and camp after 7 or 8 hours marching, currently it is taking us 9 hours to do the distance. If we don't make the Pole on the 8th then we might miss the Russian cargo flight off the continent from where we started 1000km ago. We would then be stuck on the ice for at least another week, and we don't have enough food for that, nor the stamina!

Looking at the strangers behind me, I know why we can't do more than 23.4km per day. Pat, previously a robust gentleman looks like a malnourished teenager, Shaun a lanky beanpole with gaunt deep set eyes, he could easily play lead role in a horror movie. Clare, well I can only see her when she is facing me, if she turns to the side then she disappears. These comrades have not just lost fat, but muscle and we just don't have the strength anymore, we have the energy, but our engine sizes have been reduced from 3.0 litres to 1.6 litres.

My 1.15 hours of penance is over and Clare takes over the lead and navigation responsibility. I slip to the back of the line and quickly slide into my trance like state, staring at the back of Pat's sledge and the words 'James Caird' inscribed on the transom (the name of the Scottish businessman that donated so generously to Shackleton's Endurance, and whom he named the famous lifeboat after, that saved their lives.)

I glance up at the 3 figures infront of me, I can't believe they are the same people I started with 50 days ago. I am blown away by their strength and tireless resolve, each step for Shaun is torture, the sole of his left foot has come away from the 'upper' and now just sloughs freely, bunching up around his heel. Pat's back is still in lots of pain, he stops every 10 steps or so to waggle his leg to relieve the pressure. Clare just looks exhausted, her sledge is twice the size of her and she has been hauling it it now for 7 weeks. I realise that physically there is not much left of us and so the last 6 days will be done on mental strength alone - these are the toughest people I have ever met and i'm proud to be here with them.

I look back down at my ski tips and slip into my trance, dreaming of someplace nice and warm and in a few days this will all be over and we will have achieved our goal.

South 88 degrees and 26 minutes - Day 51

Today is a special day, we have passed the latitude South 88 Degrees 26 minutes, this is known as Shackleton's 'Furthest South', meaning the furthest south that he reached in 1909, before wisely turning back to save both his life and those of his men. He could have made it to the Pole and would have bathed in the glory for being the first man to have reached it, but it is very unlikely he would have made it home alive as they were very low on provisions....so he wouldn't have enjoyed much glory!

Whilst we are on a different line of longitude (West 81 degrees ), it is still significant for our 'Beyond Endurance' expedition, that celebrates so much of Shackleton's life, to have crossed this threshold.

Beyond endurance (BE) has several meanings, not only does Endurance refer to Shackleton's ship the 'Endurance' that was encased in pack ice and then sank in the Weddell sea, giving rise to one of the most famous stories of human survival, but also to our stories, mine and Shaun's. BE is Pat Falvey's brain child and for half the team, Pat and Clare; this is their dream to celebrate the lives of the sung and unsung Irish Polar heroes (Shackleton, Tom Crean etc.) by walking to the South Pole. For me and Shaun, we are average Joe's, have both been sat at desks, grinding away in corporatedom for years. We are ordinary people with no particular experience of enduring these environments, and here we are only a 160km from the South Pole....without sounding corny I do feel that I have gone beyond my level of endurance...this has been incredibly difficult but rewarding, in fact the last 10 days have been hell (albeit a cold one) on Earth.

When I'm having a down or low spell, quite a few at the moment! I often think if the polar pioneers who trod the ice where I do now, they suffered the same as I do, a hundred years before me, but with far more basic equipment and clothing, but the snow and the cold is the same. I am proud to be part of an expedition that celebrates the endeavors of Irish polar heroes and I'm proud of my Irish heritage and consider my self very fortunate to have been invited to join this team of 3 fantastic people.

I can't believe I only met them 4.5 months ago in August while crossing Greenland, they have been training together for this for nearly 2 years, at first I felt like an imposter, an intruder to their dreams - not anymore, we have been through so much now.

As I lie in my sleeping bag mentally preparing for the onslaught of the next day, I look up at all the graffiti we have scrawled over the inside of the tent, mainly our position each day, how far we've come and how far we have left to go. But every now and again there is a motivating quote we've written, my favorite is right by my head and its the last this I see at night and the first in the morning. It's a quote from Robert Browning, Shackleton's favorite poet, it reads; "for sudden the worst becomes the best, for the brave." It was often quoted to inspire his men in tough times - it reminds me to stay focussed, strong and to get the job done.

My apologies, a bit of a muddled rant, I'm pretty shattered - 7 more days to go!

Happy new year - day 50

Sorry I didn't get round to posting anything over Christmas but we didn't celebrate ours until the 28th. As usual I did all the cooking and Pat shared out some Baileys which was a treat. I managed to rustle up some potato cakes, a quiche and even managed to make a banoffee pie out of practically nothing. Sitting in the tent atrium for 4 hours on my rest day in -17c prepping all the food was not fun. But all of us being in the same tent for a few hours was the 1st time we have really socialised the whole trip. The schedule of marching and camping isn't conducive to inter-tent communications.

So now it is New Years eve and we are 187km from the Pole - I hope only 8 days away, I can't tell you how ready I am, for this to be over. We have had a jolly awful time of it over the last 23 days, the worst possible weather conditions, I can barely remember what the sun looks like as we see it so infrequently, when it does come out I feel I should drop to my knees and give thanks. The worst was Pat's back issue, I really thought he would have to be medi-ev'ced (so did he), but we pulled together as a team, and the three of us shared out all his weight and just got in with it, the sleds were so heavy especially in the new deep snow - I could hear the South Pole whispering to me - "no short cuts Jon and certainly no hollow victories!"

Thankfully, just like his frostbitten thumb, his back has got better and he is now pulling his full weight again, which is great news as we are all pretty shattered from the additional effort we had to expend.

I've had my share of niggling injuries, but all seem to clear up after a few days, I did awaken my cracked ribs from earlier this year and this caused me 4 days of shortness of breath and I still find it very painful to move around the tent.

Today we saw one of the planes, that will pick us up, fly over head to pick up the team that have already made it to the Pole, from where I saw it, it would take them only 55 minutes to reach the Pole - it will take us another 8 days, this spurred me on, up and over the 4ft high sastrugi (snow dunes), some of them are so steep you get halfway up and your sled pulls you back down.

I might sound down about all this but I'm not really, I'm still in very high spirits, and now really happy to be so close to our goal, as I have had always said, anything can happen but the end is in sight after nearly 2 months on the ice. In fact I was thinking today that by the end of this trip I will have slept 125 days in a tent this year and 95 of them on ice....as one of Shackleton's men; David, wrote in his journal on the Nimrod Expedition (where David, Mawson and Mackay were the first men to ever reach Magnetic South)

"None but those, whose bed for months has been on snow and ice can ever realise the luxury of a real bed."

I can't wait to be in a real bed and to have a bath. I have only taken my thermal underwear off once in 50 days and that was to wash my boxers in a pot on the stove! Combine that with my 'Brian Blessed' beard and I wouldn't look out of place asleep in a cardboard box under the arches of the 'M4 Elevated Section'

Can't believe its 2008 already, seems like only yesterday I was sat at my desk in Bracknell....I wonder if I'll do the North Pole this year, now that would be a New Years resolution!

FW: Skiing blind - Day 38

Distance so far - 746km
Distance to Pole - 394km

I have been looking at my ski tips for 8 hours and 10 minutes non stop today, its the only way to ease the feeling of vertigo. I feel queasy, disorientated and unbalanced. Its hard to stay upright, not that I really know which way upright is, I'm always throwing a pole out to the side to stop myself from falling. This is what skiing in a total 'white out' is like, you can't tell the difference between the air or the ground, like walking in really thick fog, this is the worst we have had in 38 days and we have had no contrast visibility now for more or less 12 days straight - very unusual for this time of year.

So all I can see are the red tips of my skis, and the wind is blowing snow across them at a specific angle based on the direction I'm heading in. I'm trying to walk on a bearing of 121 degrees towards our food cache, but in a whiteout it is practically impossible to walk in a straight line, so I'm using the direction of the wind to help me. When I'm on course the wind blown snow crosses my skis from left to right, if it comes in at 8 o'clock and leaves at 2 o'clock them I'm more or less on the right heading. If it comes in at 9, then I have turned into wind and I'm heading too far North, if the snowflakes cross my skis at 7 o'clock then I've turned too far South. As a double check I have a hole in the zip on the left hand side of my salopettes, if my knee is cold from the draught then I'm on course, if suddenly my shin and calf get chilly, I'm off course and the same with my thigh and buttock.

Its amazing when relieved of one of your senses how you can retune others to work for you, its too cold to use a GPS all the time and to read a compass accurately means stopping every 10 ski strides, which means we would be moving too slowly. For the whole day I have looked at the tips of my skis (actually for most of the last 12 days) my mind is exhausted, concentrating on things to distract me from this featureless monotony.

Then in the last 10 minutes of the final march of the day, I ask Clare who is behind me to call out left or right should I stray too far off course (not very effective way to navigate long term) I'm going to ski the last part of the day with my eyes closed! I also asked her to shout if she sees a crevasse. So for 10 minutes, I led a group of skeletons across the most remote place on earth, with my eyes closed, it was bliss, the vertigo vanished and for the first time today I felt calm and relaxed, skiing in total darkness towards the Pole.

This is getting really tough - Day 37

This is now the test, 8 days to go to reach our food cache and we have 8 days of food and fuel left. The weather has been so bad we are behind our plan a bit. Another storm or too much fresh snow and we'll coast in on fumes. Once at the cache though we'll have 13 days more food and it should only be a maximum 10 days to reach the Pole - adrenaline will get us there even if our bodies and equipment have failed us.

Our equipment is vital to our survival, every piece is here is for a reason, and non essential weight has been shaved off every item to help us. I've lost most of my taste buds, so that has even saved some weight! Our gear is starting to take a battering; tents are ripped, the zip on my jacket only goes up half way when it is -15c or colder, my salopettes have a 2 inch hole in the zip on the right knee, Shaun's mattress has a slow puncture, he has to wake up in the middle of the night to reinflate it. My gloves have been sewn up so many times they look like Steptoe's.

Whilst showing signs of strain, the equipment will last the final 18 days or so, however will we? We are starting to look like skeletons. Clare and Shaun look exhausted, Clare at only 50kgs in weight, has been hauling over twice her body weight now for nearly 40 days, I don't know how she does it - she is incredibly strong. Pat and Shaun have lost so much weight, I'm thinking of setting up the South Pole Diet club, Pat has lost over 1.5 stone, and Shaun and I have lost at least a stone each. Our clothes just hang off us and look as though we have borrowed them. Incredibly we have been eating over 5000kcals per day and now our skin is pulled taught over our faces and is translucent on our arms.

This massive weight loss means we are all fatigued and are needing more and more rest each day. Our bodies are starting to ache aswell. Pat amazingly has recovered from his frost bitten thumb, the end was all black a few weeks ago, and now it is bright pink and new skin has formed, we all thought he would certainly loose the end of it. Also his sloughed foot soles, from massive blistering have healed and the soles of his feet are now reconnected to the 'uppers.' his thoroughbred, and 60+ expedition experience is shining through, as he is now faring the best of all of us.

Shaun and I both have acute Achilles tendonitis of the left foot. It hits me towards the end of each march, like I have a drawing pin stuck under my heel, it is agony and we both have to stop at regular intervals to stretch. As you can imagine, there aren't too many orthotic specialists out here so we have diagnosed and treated the problem ourselves, we have to raise the heel off the ski to prevent over stretching of the tendon. We have achieved this by inserting and stacking the lids off Shaun's 'Snus' tins. Shaun used to be a smoker but nowadays gets his nicotine fix from miniature teabags filled with tobacco that he puts under his lip several times a day, a Scandinavian invention. Anyway the 'Snus' comes in plastic pots and the lids, when inserted under the insole can raise the heel by an inch or so - quite effective. I also rub Arnica oil into the heel at night before bed, this is some natural remedy from dried petunia leaves or something, made by the Druids! Will keep you posted on its effectiveness. I would rub penguin poo on my foot if it would stop the pain, its pretty demoralizing when every step hurts so much.

We just need to nurse ourselves the next 8 days to the food cache, then I'm sure we can soldier the last 10 days to the Pole. Maybe this is what Beyond Endurance means. I console myself with the thought that, with the terrible conditions we have had over the last 12 days and in all likelihood will be around for another week or so, at least our victory will not be hollow - anyone that thinks this Polar exploration gig is easy is a fool......that means you, Jon!

Why am I here? - Day 31

The last day on the Greenland icecap was day 31, easily the hardest mental and physical challenge of my life to date. As I stepped off the ice I was exhausted from too much weight loss and dizzy with happiness for having completed an expedition that, for many days looked as though we weren't going to make it. Here I am now 81 days later and tomorrow I will step out of the tent on day 32, and it will feel like a new chapter, a mini goal will have been completed, I will have gone further than I have ever done before.

This environment is almost identical to that of Greenland (the point where I finished on day 31, is exactly 16,877km from where I lie now (amazing thing a GPS!) This is in part why I'm here now, its a continuation of a journey rather than a new one, I will be in new territory, this is exciting in itself, seeing how far I can push and test myself, how much can I endure? Up until now I have been the 'usual Jon', a bit of a joker, laughing, always talking and making sure everyone's spirits are up, but now I can feel my self fatiguing, I'm not recovering as well each day, and I need to sleep longer and my pace is slowing, I'm also quieter and a bit more withdrawn, I'm being a bit more selfish, as I begin to suffer more. How far will I withdraw and will the hours alone in my head start to wear me down?

31 days, 1 month and I have thought about my past in detail, relived memories long forgotten. The great thing about 8hrs a day alone with your thoughts for 55 days without interruption is that you can go places you don't usually get to explore when in 'normal' life. I have the time to wander the dusty corridors of my mind and re-analyze the things I've done in my life and what I would like to do with my future. I have done enough of this now, too much delving into your past can't be good for you, and too much future envisioning is exhausting, and so I have discovered what places like Antarctica and Greenland gift to those willing to spend real time with them....the time to live only in the moment, to ponder and savour the present, the actual minute I'm in. Its as if the barren icey plains have said you have come this far, now enjoy each step, each breath and live only in the moment, with no more care for days gone by and those not yet spent. In my experience this is a rare luxury in life, and if I take one thing from the ice, let it be thay I enjoy more the day rather than always chasing the next.

I would love to have you all come and join me here right now for just a day to experience what I'm talking about, you could fly in and walk with me for just a day, but I know that this place doesn't give up its secrets that easily, the 'gift' I hope, is only available to those that have gone the whole distance. There are no 'short cuts' out here, believe me, from someone that has spent their entire life looking for 'short cuts', there are none out here!

Day 26 - Polar toilet crisis

Well the honeymoon is definitely over, I was beginning to think this polar exploration was easy, I had reached day 20 and I was feeling strong and the days were passing quickly, I kept urging the team to do more distance each day. Then on day 22 I was struck with a stomach bug/upset of some sort and my world fell apart, stomach cramps, hot sweats, the sudden need to....well you know! Not that I want to go into the detail here on the finer points of polar toilet habits, but whole chapters and internet discussion forums exist on the topic, all I can say is dropping your sallopettes in minus 32c, 3 times a day is a death wish. If your toilet paper blew away, you could be in all sorts of trouble whilst waiting for assistance.

The worst of it has been that I have had to limit my food intake, to allow whatever it was to 'pass', this has had a huge effect on my strength, which in turn kills the morale. Those 2 days were awful, the hours just dragged by.

Now it is day 26, and everything is fine, my strength is back, and I can hardly remember what I was whining about. Only 2.5 days to go until we reach the Thiels mountains, we have had nothing to look at for 15 days since we saw Pirrit Hills so this is very motivating. Also we will reward ourselves with another rest day.

Also in 2 days, we shall have passed half way, I can't believe we have done over 500km. If all goes well, only another 26 days left. The weather has closed in today, and we are stumbling blind through a whiteout, its impossible to see the sastrugi and we all fall several times a day.

The food has become very tiresome, we have now eaten every variety we have with us, I don't think I can eat another yogurt coated raisin for as long as I live, but I still have over 30 bags left. There is quite a good trading market going on between the four of us, currently yogurt raisins are not worth much, and Nescafe Mocha sachets are at a premium, but as people denude their raisin stocks, and in the last week all they will have left are frozen cashew nuts, I'll flood the market and make a mint. I haven't told anyone about the 1.5 ltrs of Baileys I've been carrying with me.....maybe they will name a mountain after me or carry my sledge the last 100 miles for just a sip (need to defrost it first though).

A day of rest

Yesterday was an 'official' rest day, we were just over half way to the Pole, though we hadn't seen the sun in a few days, and our spirits were high, if we have made it this far without serious mishap then we have a good shot at the Pole, no guarantees though.

All during our rest day it snowed (unusual for this time of year) and we awoke this morning to a a full on blizzard and in places, 3ft drifts of fresh snow. Usually with skis on I'm very happy with fresh snow but not when hauling a 100kg plus sledge, it sinks down into the snow and it can take all your strength just to get it moving. So much so that today we have only done 16km in 7 hours, our worst day for progress by far.

I'm in the tent now, brooding, a bit home sick for friends and family, you'll have your decorations up soon, chockies on the tree, Richard Elson will be planning his pre Crimbo drinks party, and I won't be there! There is nothing I hate more than missing a good party.

This storm is settled in for the next 4 days which means I have to mentally recalculate my Pole arrival date as we won't be doing 27km per day anytime soon, I have an obsession with making progress and I don't like putting in max effort for little return.

So to lighten my somber mood, I have made some pancakes, melted some CDM into the mix and added a tincture of Tia Maria, the result has been most acceptable. Additionally this 'South Pole' diet programme is a bit extreme, I'm sure I have lost half as stone already, so it won't be long before my body will start using my muscle for food, not a good thing to happen, so now I add copious amounts of butter, salami and cheese to all my meals to raise the fat content.

I am actually quite happy, only 521km (we've done 615km) to our goal, but I'm enjoying the journey far more than I expected, and have found a wonderful sense of peace out here, 8 hrs a day to indulge in my own thoughts is very therapeutic, whilst tricky to get used to at first, I'm actually quite good at it now.

I had a glimpse of home yesterday, when the BBC called me at 530am to see how I was getting on. I did a live radio interview, and just before they put me through to the DJ, I heard the end of the traffic - is that M25 still causing trouble around Leatherhead? I chuckled cacooned in my sleeping bag, poor devils, stuck in their cars on a dark dreary damp December morning.

Day 12 - Marching

Distance to the Pole - 917km

When I leave the tent each morning with all my gear on I have such a limited field of vision, if I have to adjust a zip or tighten a strap I can't see it through my goggles (to remove them for anything longer than a few seconds would surely freeze my eyes) I fumble with my mittens trying to attach my sled trace to my harness, I feel like I have oven gloves on and I'm trying to thread a needle even the most simple task can be so frustrating here.

Skis on, poles looped onto my wrist, I check my watch and look down at my compass trying to spot some formation in the distance that I can take a bearing on, I see a large piece of sastrugi about 500m away, this will do. I lean forward and feel the tug of the harness and the weight of the sledge, then I haul. For 1hr and 10 minutes I will lead the march until I am relieved by the next in line. Whilst my mind does drift, I have to concentrate on not loosing the mark and finding the next one in line wit it, or I will have to look at the compass again and loose valuable time. The sastrugi formations are incredible, but also lethal if you don't cross them at the right angle, twisted ankles are always a threat. Some of the snow drifts are steep and the sled does not easily run its course, so you lean harder into the harness to pull it over.

Leading a march is I think, the easiest time of the day, when I'm in 'The Line' I just follow the sled infront of me not thinking about where I'm going, it is then when you have to be disciplined with your thoughts. 7 to 8 hrs a day with nothing much to look at other than a white never ending horizon is quite hard on the mind, soul and body - but I love it. The piece, tranquility and being completely self indulgent with my thoughts is a rare thing to experience these days, it is like being able to day dream all day for 55 days. After a while the enormity of the task (20 to 25km per day for 55 days) vanishes and you start to see and experience the details of your surroundings, the way each breath freezes on your lips, the translucent moving carpet of snow that floats around your ankles on the wind, the startling difference between the the white ground and azure sky.

All of a sudden an hour has gone by and it is time for a break. I sit on my sledge, take a swill of water, if I am lucky its still warm, if not I hold it in my mouth for a few seconds to warm it up before swallowing to prevent 'ice-cream head'. I shovel mitten fullls of chocolate and trail-mix into my mouth for fuel, its all frozen and hard to eat quickly - I need to take on 500kcals in these 4 minutes, I can't take my mittens off as it will take another 20 minutes before my fingers will be warm again and I hate the feeling of the blood rushing back into the frozen tips - like someone hitting them with hammers.

Day 11 - Wakey wakey rise and shine

Distance to the Pole - 935km

Each day is the same out here, wake at 6:30am (24hr daylight so I have to remove eyepatches), if it is my turn for breakfast, I slide out of my warm sleeping bag, pull on my clothes that have been in the bottom of the bag to keep them warm overnight. I unzip the inner chamber of the tent and a draft of icy air wakes me from my sleep. I pump the fuel bottles (wearing gloves as the metal is so cold my skin would stick to it) and fire up both burners, in 5 minutes I'll have boiling water and a cup of welcome coffee. I shake Shaun awake and tell him there is water for brekky. I shovel snow into the pots on the stoves to make our drinking water for the day. Even though the bottles live in thermal jackets, I have to fill them with boiling water or they will freeze by the end of the day's march. I pour hot water from a thermos into my boil-in-the-bag breakfast, today is lamb mulligatawny, 800kcals worth of protein, carbs and fat to fuel me until the first break. After only 12 days the 10 different varieties of food all taste the same - it is not food anymore, just fuel and I need 5800kcals per day.

Once breakfast is cleaned away, I put on my outer layers, strangely enough, I only need, thermals and Gore-Tex bibs on my legs, one pair of socks, a thermal, thin fleece and Gore-Tex jacket for my upper body. This is enough clothing to keep me warm in -35c when I'm marching and generating heat, when I stop however a down jacket has to be put on quickly. My face and hands are a different matter, I wear a thin 'buff' to protect my neck and to stop the metal zip of my thermal top freezing to my neck, then a wool balaclava, then a woolen wind proof hat, then a neoprene 'Hannibal Lector' style face mask, then my goggles which also has a neoprene nose guard. Hands, 3 layers some times 4 depending on wind-chill. For those that are into their out door gear, I have no synthetic material against any of my skin, it is all Merino wool. The key difference being that when it is wet, the wool stays warm, sweat trapped between layers will freeze in minutes when you stop, so even when damp you stay warm (well warm out here is relative!)

We have had a string of abysmal days with temps down to -35c, I can't describe what this feels like as the wind cuts through you, there is nowhere to shelter, for even a second - all you can do is quicken your step and put your head down - you could put the tent up and call it a day, but that would be giving into the Antarctic spirits that swirl around you all day long whispering in your ear to give up and call it a day. You can't help but bring to life the heroes that have walked here a 100 years before you, Shackleton, Crean, Scott and Amundsen and use them in defense of the onslaught of the elements.

Day 2 - minus 31 Celsius "Arctic Willy"

Lat. & Long - S80.13.633,W081.04.089
Distance so far - 33.7km
Distance to the Pole - 1091km

Well my worst dream came true. With the wind-chill factor today, the temperature plummeted, we all had as much face and head gear on possible. When we stopped for a break, I had to rip my frozen face mask from my newly formed beard - I won't be doing that again anytime soon!

And so to the explanation of my title. 'Arctic Willy' is a polar explorers worst nightmare. All that prevents your tackle from becoming a Popsicle at -30 c is a pair of underpants (I only have 1 pair for 60 days!) a pair of thermal long-johns and the thinnest pair of Gore-Tex sallopettes. What happens is that the cold slowly builds up and without really feeling it, as the cold numbs it, 'it' just freezes - I felt this starting to happen today, so fashioned in true Blue Peter style a protective 'cup' out of a foam camping mat - problem solved!

We have made good progress so far in quite tough conditions (cold headwind and no visibility) but I am prepared for much worse. The team are getting along well, we are taking it easy for the 1st week, and will steadily increase the mileage, weather permitting next week.

I feel very fortunate to be experiencing this pristine and untouched (relatively) world. The vast open white spaces go on for '000s of km, Antarctica is 1.5x bigger than the USA and it is just white.....everywhere. Without our GPS and compass we would be surely dead, I can't navigate by the sun yet, but I am learning, the sun never sets here in the summer, it just goes round in a circle over our heads.

Polar travel tip no. 1 - never take your gloves off in anything colder than -10 c for any reason. Also don't try and warm your zip up so it will work by breathing on it, if you get your lip stuck to it, the removal process is painful.....!

+26 degrees - the warmest I've been in 15 months!

Wednesday must have been the hottest day of the year so far, and what was I doing when the sun had reached its very zenith? Dressed up in full Polar gear giving a talk about Antarctica to a great bunch of kids at the Primary School in Langley Fitzure, Wiltshire.

This was my last talk of the term - I have visited 15 schools now in 3 months across the UK and Ireland and this school was one of the best. There is nothing more fulfilling than engaging with a 100 or so bright, enthusiastic kids who ask intelligent questions. I was stunned that an 8 year old would know that you could navigate to the South Pole using the sun and the wind, I only learnt about it last year!

I received some interesting feedback after I returned home and I am very flattered to Blog that one of the KS2 girls named a spider after me when she got home - that's a first!

My thanks to Bec Gay for arranging the talk and to Lynn Evans, the Head Teacher for allowing me to dress up in fancy dress in the school hall.

Exhibition goes live in Oxford

A selection of my favorite photos from the Greenland and Antarctica expeditions are now on show at Greens in Oxford. Together with the owner Sharon Rasmussen, we selected the best images that represent the changes to our current global climate. The retreat of the Greenland icecap, the effect of warming Polar seas on the Inuit and of course the breaking up of huge sections of the Antarctica ice shelves.

Greens were kind enough to support my expedition South and I was proud to represent their organisation at the South Pole.

Greens is in St Giles, Oxford.

Snow at last

Harry Emerson Fosdick said, “The world is moving so fast these days that the man who says it can't be done is generally interrupted by someone doing it.” This quote resonates with me this year, as I have been so hectically frantic that I have finally after 11 months of being on the road, stopped rushing around, planning, organising and expeditioning. I am now tucked away in a remote Swiss village, on a hill side in a quiet chalet on my own, a lot like solitary confinement but the views are better. I have no phone, Internet connection (to hand) or television. Just lots of books and great views down the Pays D'Enhaut.

Yesterday it was 15 degrees centigrade, warm and sunny and the whole valley below 1500m was spring green (above that height there was a little snow.) Today I awoke to 20cm of fresh snow filling the whole valley – your perfect winter wonderland, the boughs of the trees bent double from the weight of fresh snow, a still silence that comes with the frozen insulation, the noise of the passing train in the valley below muffled from the fresh veil cotton wool that had descended in the night. I woke in the early hours of this morning from another 'Greenland nightmare', my tent had yet again been swallowed into a crevasse and through the dawn light hear the rain, then at some point in those early hours, the temperature must have dropped and the snow settled.

I am using this time in the mountains to recover from my journey South, as the weeks rolled on at home. I was traveling too much, visiting friends and catching up with family, I hadn't really stopped and rested from getting off the plane and I was worse for it. Not only has my body needed to recover, but mentally I have had to take stock of what has happened this year – 3 major expeditions with hardly a break in between, I have put my body through 7 months of endurance and covered 3000 miles under my own body power on ski and bike. I have not considered really effect if any this has had on my head. The journey to the Pole seems to have left me, I can't quite recall the details or the feelings and to be honest I am a bit scared that the experience might have left me, so this time now is therapeutic in recovering and allowing me to take stock of all that has happened.

Have you ever spent a day watching snow melt? This is what I have done today, when I sat down at my desk this morning there was 20cm of freshies on the slope outside the chalet, there is a picture window infront of me and as I look up from my laptop I can see the snow melting, the sun not quite exposed from the clouds is doing its best to rid the ground of its new white blanket.
On my slope now there are only 5 spots of golf ball sized snow left. The rocks, dead grass and mud are ugly compared to the supreme whiteness of the snow, I miss it. The snow and the ice that is, I want to be back on the plateau hauling my sledge and all my possessions towards a pointless goal on an unending horizon.

Being back has felt like being on a holiday and it is now over and at any moment Clare or Shaun will call to pick me up and we'll get back to work on the ice, like it is where I belong. You know when you have been on a 2 week holiday and over the last few days you are ready to get home and back to work, well I feel like this about the ice.

So I suppose being in the mountains as spring draws near and seeing the snow melt around me is good place to be to soften the reality jolt, a sort of staging post from the extreme to the comfort of friends and family, because I feel I had plunged far too quickly into the comfort of the sofa.

No more snow outside my window now – just green grass.

p.s - if you are wondering how I uploaded this with no Internet connection, it is a 45 minute walk down to the village, where I have piggybacked off an old ladies unsecured wireless network...not so remote afterall!
p.p.s – the picture is my view this morning to the 'hidden valley' so don't feel too sorry for me all alone up here!
p.p.p.s - who is Harry Emerson Fosdick

South Pole - expedition photos

I have finally managed to sort through approximately 1000 photos and condensed them to 50 or so.

Link to the album is here

I only have 34 seconds of fame left

I was stood at the bar of the Green Room in the RTE studios sipping a smooth Chilean Merlot and we got the call to make-up. The poor lady had to use buckets of cover-up to hide the frost bite gouges on my cheeks and the blisters on my nose. A quick briefing from the controller and we were walking down the isle to take our seats in front of Pat Kenny – the host of the longest running chat show in television history.....The Late Late Show.

Not sure what to make of the whole thing really, at the time it was fun but I was desperate to get home for a rest. At the end of the interview I thought I would be a bit cheeky and make an appeal for my lost camera to be returned. Right at the end of the show, Pat holds up the camera, the taxi driver was watching at home, went out to his car and found the camera, he dropped it round to the studio while we were still there - incredibly I got it back intact, and with it a small slice of Irish history has been preserved.

Thanks to RTE for the hospitality and ferrying us around the country.
This is my 14 minutes and 26 seconds of fame - link to Replay of Irish Team interview

Press Coverage

Press coverage of the expedition

Link