Neither food nor drink except water is allowed ashore, along with any gear that hasn’t undergone biosecurity checks. In the morning all footprints must be scuffed out with our boots. It’s an odd introduction, in part because leave-no-trace practices don’t cut it in Antarctica. Gunilla Lindh / Quark Expeditionsīesides us and the guides, few of our companions have ever camped before. My sisters and I are curled in bivvy sacks on a frozen beach on the Antarctic Peninsula, surrounded by some 30 other tourists and a couple fat Weddell seals. Humpbacks spout in the channel all night long. A small avalanche of rock and snowmelt cascades from nearby cliffs into the sea-not a danger, but loud enough to make you jump. Instead, the emptiness amplifies everything. There is no breeze, no rustling leaves, no buzzing insects or hooting owls. IT’S NOT THE endless daylight that prevents sleep, but the stillness.
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