Our planet’s most southerly continent is notionally one of those awe-inspiring places I would like to visit.  At least for a couple of hours.  Ideally it would be as one of those C17 aircrews that flies in a load of gear and people, then jets right back out an hour later.

Of course there is the incredible visual poetry of the place, which is no doubt part of the enchantment that drove such as Amundsen, Scott and Shackleton to hazard their lives in exploration of it.

But it’s not all sweetness and light. The weather has rough days.

And so does the sea, too.

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