Antarctica - Day 5 - The Last Sip

12/31/14

Orne Harbor, Antarctica

Of all the day datelines I have ever written, this one trumps them all.  Why, then, am I crying?  I am not fighting back tears of joy.  No, it’s the five words I just uttered and the reason I uttered  them.  “It’s been Official, my friend.”  It is a water bottle that has travel all over the world, has joined me on all five continents I visited, and 43 countries.  I have taken the last sip I will ever take from that water bottle.

I suppose now is as good as a time for a confession as any, something that only me and my parents know.  This water bottle was not the same as I lost at security at JFK on my way to Israel.  No, that water bottle wound up in some landfill somewhere.  My mother went to the camping store and bought a new one to send to me in Israel.  I will soon be sending her an email asking her to purchase Mark 3 for me.  I guess, if I had to choose some place to take the last sip, here on the continent of Antarctica, smoking my Cohiba is as good a place as any, better than any, in fact.  I knew it was foolish to expect that this water bottle would last another 15 years, but I had at least hoped it would see 2015.  No, I have taken the last sip.  It will come home with me of course, and it belongs in a freaking museum.  Alright, enough about my water bottle.  That story will be told in its proper time.

The adventures of the evening did not end with sunrise.  As I was publishing my entry, Davie told me that they were all up on the 4^th Deck discussing politics.  I promised to join them in a few minutes after I got myself situated.  I thought they were outside, so I dropped off my laptop and picked up some cigars.  I went back up to the 4^th Deck and saw Davie with Beth and Frances in the lounge.  We discussed all the issues of the day, and I was once again back at MathCamp engaging in profitable intellectual debate with new friends at the wee hours of the morning.  I knew that the four of us could rationally discuss any issue, and we did exactly that, and it turned out we were all libertarians.  What are the odds?

Well, we looked at the scenery and the sun and the whales and half-heartedly suggested going to sleep.  It was, to repeat the word I keep using, magical.  We then went to the bridge and kept the officers company.  It was then that the quote of the morning occurred.  We were trying to remember some character from Greek Mythology, and I asked, as if this was too unreal to believe, “Are we really discussing Greek Mythology at 4 in the morning on a boat in Antarctica?”  Beth was quick to respond, “What else are we going to discuss at 4 in the morning?”  In the end, we decided to go to sleep at 4:30 AM, get three hours, reconvene for breakfast at 8 AM, and then get the rest of our sleep between the landings so that we would be refreshed for New Year’s Eve.  We did just that.  This magical night had come to an end.

Beth was sitting at her usual table when I went down for breakfast, and she greeted me warmly, but the rest of the group was nowhere to be found.  She said that her family was sleeping in, and her plate was almost empty.  I had gotten my favorite, corned beef hash with fried eggs.  I knew that eating that next to her with chopsticks was asking for trouble, but she found it to be somewhere in between amusing and impressive.  She was on the earlier group for the landing, so she apologized for leaving me alone at the table and excused herself.  I then went to join John and Kathy and Frances, but, no sooner had I sat down, than they, too, had to excuse themselves.  I then saw the rest of Beth’s family, so I went to join them, and they stayed a little longer, long enough for me to finish my meal.

I went back up to my room and got ready for the expedition.  This time I would make it Official: suit, cigar, water bottle.  What’s the worse they could do to me for smoking on the continent?  I was all ready to go.  Wait, I forgot my water bottle, so I ran back for it.  I put it in my pocket, but it was loose fitting and would not zip all the way.  We headed outside, and as I stepped in the disinfecting solution, my water pants were falling down, so I adjusted them.  I heard a crash, and John Frick, I think, handed me my water bottle.  It did not look right.  Was that ice inside?  No, why was it spilling on me?  Hmm, I inspected it.  It was cracked beyond repair, making it practically useless.  This would be the water bottle’s last great adventure, and where better place to take the last sip? 

I have just had to relocate to a more visible location, which means that the rest of my cigar is off the table.  Anyway, I smoked a cigar in Antarctica, and I have my Official picture with the suit, cigar, and water bottle.  I have taken the last sip, and Mark 3 will be waiting for me in New York when I get back.  Well, I showed off my broken water bottle, and no one had ever before seen or heard of a Nalgene breaking.  It must have been the perfect combination of the cold, the drop, and possibly the disinfecting solution.  Denise (Sam and Danny’s mom) told me to take it back to the store where I bought it so that they could replace it.  Even if they couldn’t, the cost of a new water bottle would be inconsequential compared to the cost of this trip.  She was right, but she was also wrong.  Somehow I had had a feeling that the water bottle would not survive this landing, and I was right.  But that is not what is important.  What is important is that I have Officially visited five continents.

When we landed, I asked where I could go, wanting to find a secluded place to smoke my cigar and write my entry.  I had brought my laptop along in my sleep machine bag, it barely fitting.  I was told I could wander off a little but to stay visible.  Not being one to much follow the rules, I found a little cove where I was hidden from the landing party but visible from the water.  I lit up my cigar, took my Official pictures, took the last sip, and said, “It’s been Official, my friend.”    As I emptied the remaining water onto the rocks, the tears welled up.

I sat down to write my entry, doing my best hide my cigar, having to put it in the cigar saver when Zodiacs got too close.  In the end, I only wound up smoking about half of it before having to call it quits.  I will finish the rest of it when I get back to the ship.  I then relocated, where I continued to entry, which I will now close so that I can head back to the landing site and shortly thereafter go back to the ship.

Oh, wait, I’m in Antarctica, this entry can’t just be about my new friends and my water bottle.  This site looked much the same as the one from yesterday, and it was much more immense, but I had different goals.  Yesterday was about enjoyment, this one was about fulfillment.  That one picture was why I spent so much money on my ticket.  The enjoyment value I have received has been pure bonus.  It is beautiful here, but it all starts to look the same very quickly.

Aboard M/V Corinthian, Anchored, Port Lockroy

Once again, I am forced to compare this trip to the New Year’s trips of the past two years, and there is no comparison.  This is a trip without compare.  As I smoke my 2011 Christmas Pipe, I know with absolute certainty that there is no comparison between the events of today and New Year’s Eve in Quebec two years and New Year’s Day in Vienna and Instanbul a year ago.  While the New Year’s Eve meal that preceding the smoking of my 2011 Pipe in Quebec had better food, this one had better company in conversation, but first, the rest of the adventures of today.

After I closed on the continent, Dom passed by me asking if I was on my laptop.  By the end of the day, word had passed around the whole ship that someone was sitting down during the landing, writing on his laptop, completely oblivious to the penguins that were marching in front of him.  When Beth came down, I told her that I had did what we discussed last night.  Remembering our debate early this morning about what the worst was that could happen to me if I lit up a cigar on the continent, she knew went I meant.  I went back on the Zodiac with her and Davie.  Once we got back, true to my new vows to be true to myself, to never try to impress someone by being someone I was not, or, for that matter, be someone else for anyone else (cue “Complicated” by Avril Lavigne), I did something I had not done in front of Beth since we left Ushuaia.  I lit up the rest of my cigar.  She didn’t care, and Davie got a kick out of it.  Once Andy got off, I showed Davie and Andy the picture of me with the cigar and water bottle on the continent, which they found most amusing.  Davie said that he would do it with me next time if we had a chance.

We decided that we would nap and meet up again for lunch at 1 PM.  When I got to my cabin, there was an officer outside on the radio.  He said something about false smoke alarms and, when I walked by, said that he definitely smelled either cigarettes or cigar.  I told him that that smell was me and invited him into my cabin.  Yes, that was the smell, but it didn’t explain the false alarms.  I was able to honestly tell him that I had been smoking outside the whole trip.  He left, and I took a very brief nap.  It was not enough, and I was not able to enjoy lunch.  Besides, Davie and Beth were nowhere to be found.  I ate sparingly and was done before they got there.  I think I then had an Ashton ESG, another top ten cigar of the year, and it was deserving of the ranking.  I went up to the club, where I found some of my friends, including Kathy, who, finally, after 5 days, told me she preferred to be called Katherine.  Dom and Danny played a very sloppy chess game, and, afterwards, the oldest of the high schoolers, who said he was really good at chess, challenged me.  I played sloppy, but he played sloppier, and I had no trouble beating him.

It was then time to make our next landing.  We were anchored in Port Lockroy, and there is a small museum/post office/research station, which is visible to me as I write this entry.  I got my souvenirs and mailed some postcards back to New York.  There was no need to stay any longer.  Beth’s mother wanted to take some family photos, and Andy excitedly greeted me.  They asked me to take some pictures, a task I gladly accepted.  Afterwards, Beth’s mother insisted that she take a picture for me, in contrast to all of my selfies.  I obliged.  Beth took and earlier Zodiac back, but the rest of us were all on the next one.  I lit up an OpusX Angel’s Share when I got back to the ship and uploaded my photos.

I hung out in the club with Davie and Andy, and we all went down to dinner together.  There was no question about me joining them at dinner again.  We laughed and joked, as Beth’s mom made fun of Beth and Andy, them both for their picky eating habits, and then Beth’s dad and I had a grand time teasing Beth for getting Australia and Africa mixed up on the map.  Davie offered Andy a small amount of money if he would try the chicken liver, and I offered an even smaller amount to the pot if he would eat it with chopsticks.  He agreed, and I produced a pair of chopsticks.  He ate the whole plate and decided that he would eat the rest of the meal with chopsticks.  Beth refused to touch the liver, neither with a fork nor with chopsticks (Would you, could you, on a boat?)  Davie then asked if he could eat her liver.  The phrasing was “Can I eat your liver?”  I could not stop cracking up, and I explained that I thought of Prometheus.  Davie got the joke, but Beth missed, she not having heard of Prometheus.

Well, next up, we got our venison, and I knew that Andy would be wanting a second portion.  I also wanted one, so I asked if we could get a few extra portions.  They brought one for me but not one for Andy.  When my second portion came, just as I was finishing my first portion, he shot me a murderous look, but they gladly brought him some more venison.  It was so good, and I was starting to get toasted at this point.  After they cleared our plates, Davie and Andy started playing loudly with their utensils.  Beth’s mom was none too pleased.  I then started beating my new pair of chopsticks like drums.

Expecting me to the older and more mature one, she was even more disappointed with me than she was with her stepchildren.  “You may be excused!  Back to your room!” she reprimanded me.  Catching her tone, I started cracking up.  Andy and I both got seconds on our dessert, and I asked if anyone wanted more wine.  Beth’s mom insisted that we could not handle any more wine, and she was probably right.  Beth and Davie were drinking white wine, and I was drinking red, so I went to get a carafe of each, definitely against the rules.  Beth’s mom insisted that Beth had had enough wine, but Beth said that she was 21 and could have as much wine as she wanted.  I poured the wine for her and put the carafe in the center of the table.  I then poured my red wine and saw the waitress coming up, not looking happy.  Between rushing to pour it and my inebriation, I made quite the mess.  “I can’t take you, anywhere!” she admonished me.

The waitress said that they had to serve the wine.  I handed her the carafe and my now half-full glass of wine and asked if I could have some more wine.  Everyone excused themselves except for Beth’s parents, and I walked out with them when they left.  As they were about to get on the elevator, Beth’s mom got serious and asked me to do her a favor and “make sure the kids don’t stay up too late.”  I heard my aunt’s voice in that sentence.  (My mom’s sister would have definitely known better than to trust me with that task.)  I joked that I would try to get them to go to sleep before 3 AM.  She asked me to just be a “good role model.”  I said that I would try and started cracking up as soon as the elevator doors closed.

I  headed to my room to rub out my tobacco.  I headed to the smoking deck, lit up my 2011 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, so that I can join the New Year’s Eve festivities.  2014 has been amazing year, and I had thought there was no way it could have been better than 2013.  I was wrong.  With a wonderful girlfriend and great new friends, in addition to all of the incredible travelling I did this year, I can say with absolute certainty that 2014 has been the best year of my life.  For 2015, I only have one New Year’s resolution: to be true to myself.  I will never again be someone that I am not, not for anyone, not for any reason.  With that, I declare my Travelogue closed for 2014.

Antarctica - Day 4 - Land Ahoy!

12/30/14

At sea, M/V Corinthian, Bransfield Strait

Well, we have survived the Drake Passage, and I can see the South Shetland Islands off to my left.  It is quite possibly the most remarkable sight I have ever seen, and I am still sitting on a boat.  We have not even set sight on the mainland.  I have also just been informed by one of my new friends that we will make a landing on the Islands today.  I guess we made good time.

As for my new friendships, they are thriving, and, while I compared them to MathCamp last night, I realized that it was NYU that would provide a more apt analogy.  Hmm, we have slowed down, so I guess we are making port now.  Anyway, at NYU, I was forced to sit out in the courtyard to smoke, and people approached me, and easy friendships were formed.  With WiFi only available in the public spaces, it was exactly the same here.

After I closed last night, I continued my search for the memory card.  I could not find it.  I had a nagging suspicion that it had fallen in somewhere rather than on something.  I checked again the memory slot on my camera.  Something looked off.  I looked more closely.  Hmm, the battery definitely did not look right.  My memory card had been wedged in with battery instead of in its correct slot.  It was no easy task to retrieve it, but I did.

I reorganized and headed back out around 3 AM with a Cohiba.  I lit up the Cohiba and looked at the port side of the boat towards the fore.  I believed that we were travelling due south, and I knew that the sun would rise not in the east but approximately 35 degrees off of south, somewhere between southeast and south by southeast.  Hmm, no, this wasn’t right.  3:25 AM came with no sunrise.  That was when I figured out that we were travelling southeast.  I ran to the fore deck, and there it was.  The glimmer of red and orange.  The pictures were not the best, but they were decent.  I headed back inside, only to immediately go back outside.  This was sunrise.  In Antarctica.  I was really going to only stay for a few minutes?  Well, the view didn’t change, and I started to get bored, so I headed inside.  I was going to stay up until breakfast, only four hours off, but I wound up falling asleep at 5 AM, and I was down to breakfast a little after 8 AM.  I only got three hours of sleep, and it was nowhere near enough.

I found myself next to Davie, whom I learned was Elizabeth’s stepsister.  I knew with absolute certainty that if I roomed with my family for ten days, one of us would not survive the trip.  Breakfast was not as good as yesterday, but it was filling.  We next had a mandatory briefing, which would be followed by boot disinfecting.  John Frick had found me a pair of boots, which was a lifesaver.  We were soon joined by Andy and Molly and Elizabeth and the three parents.  It was seven of them travelling as a clan.  It cost more than my annual gross salary for their three cabins, much more.  Molly was Andy’s girlfriend, and Andy’s parents paid for her fare as well.  While I am either the oldest or second oldest in the group of my new friends, I believe that I am the youngest person on the boat who paid for his own ticket.

After the boot disinfecting, I took my much needed nap, waking up when the announcement was made for lunch.  I threw on my suit pants and headed down, finding myself behind Elizabeth and Molly and Andy at the buffet.  Elizabeth and I exchanged greetings, and she invited me to join her family for lunch, an offer I gladly accepted.  Elizabeth started talking about our epic game of Charades, and the mom looked at me and said that she heard that I was really good at Charades.  I guess word travels fast on a small boat.  I took a fork and started eating my meal.  Andy asked me where my chopsticks were, remembering the first lunch we had together.  I said that the last time I used chopsticks in front of Elizabeth, I got chicken all over her.  She laughed, saying that it didn’t leave a permanent mark.  No, I was no longer the stranger who splattered her with chicken in Ushuaia.  I was now the new friend that absolutely schooled her at Charades at 1 AM in the Drake Passage.

The mother asked if Andy could have any chocolate mousse, but they didn’t have any.  Instead they brought him an ice cream sundae, which he shared with his girlfriend.  Elizabeth stole the cookie that came with it, which she shared with me.  She didn’t like the cookie, saying that it tasted like an ice cream cone.  Andy and Molly did not much like the ice cream, so they gave the dish to Elizabeth.  I explained that she probably needed to use the cookie to scoop the ice cream, which I did.  Once she realized that there were raisins in the rum raisin ice cream, she gave the rest to me, explaining that she is a purist and doesn’t like raisins or nuts in her ice cream.  Afterwards, I then wondered aloud why we only got one dessert for the whole table.

I have now realized that the buffet had desserts on top, I think, but I was fine.  The ice cream was plenty, and I still had lots of pastries in my room.  The mother went to a photography class, and Andy and Molly excused themselves, as well.  Elizabeth said that she was going to return to her knitting, and I went back to my room to get my cigar and computer.  I went to the smoking deck, where a bunch of people were assembled to see the land off to the starboard side.  I lit up my Santana, uploaded a bunch of photos, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, since my cigar is almost done, and I need to get ready for the landing.

Once again, I find myself smoking my Christmas Pipe, with sunrise fast approaching, after an epic game of Charades.  How can Quebec or Istanbul, where I previously smoked my 2010 Christmas Pipe, compare to the magic of this night?  It can’t.  It seems ironic that setting foot on Antarctic land for the first time in my life was not the highlight of the day.  Of all my new friends, I am the only one travelling alone.  Everyone else was travelling with their family or their significant other’s family.  Instead of spending my time smoking and writing my philosophy, I am now very glad to make new friends, to constantly throw my structured plans out the window.  I am enjoying this trip, and I have no doubt it will make the top five if it continues like this.  My theme for my 2014 Year in Review entry will be about the people in my life, the people on my trips, but first I must recall the adventures of today before the sun rises and before we leave the Bransfield, either of which would require a new dateline.

It is past 2 AM here, and I am wide awake.  I have drunken about a bottle of wine today, along with two glasses of champagne, yet I feel as sober as a judge.  Davie might be joining me out here soon, so I will need to go quickly for that reasons, as well.  After I closed, I started to get ready for the landing, no, that’s not right.  I went up to the library, where all of my friends were hanging out.  We parted ways to get ready for the landing, and John Frick came up to me, telling me he had some pants for me.  Perfect.  I had boots and pants, I would be waterproof.  This was on one of the islands, so I was not going to make it Official.  No cigar, no water bottle.  I just wanted to see how the landing would work.

We went down into the Zodiacs, which took us ashore.  Fuck this island/continent business.  With the wondrous view ahead of me and the wildlife ashore, I didn’t care about Official or unofficial.  As soon as I set foot ashore onto dry land, I uttered one syllable: five.  There were only two continents left: Africa and Australia.  Danny was taking his time with photography, but I soon saw L---.  No, she was walking slowly to keep pace with her grandmother, so I walked off alone.  There are no words to describe what I saw.  Only pictures can suffice.  I will not even try.

I got to the end of the trail, where there were the same seals and penguins we saw on the way in.  I wanted to do my cigar/entry before dinner, but I realized that the smoking deck would be off limits due to the Zodiac operations, so I might as well just stay ashore until the last Zodiac back.  I then saw Danny, Beth, and Davie walking in the opposite direction, so I tagged along with them for the rest of the time.  As we were heading back on the Zodiac, Davie saw a whale, so we tried to find it, and we did.  Then we saw three more, but my camera was dead, which was perfect, since it meant I could just watch with my own eyes.

After we got back, we needed to change for cocktail hour, which meant that we would all be dressed to the nines, me in my trademark suit.  Beth, of course, looked gorgeous in velvet and Sam, as well.  Nevermind, if I play Joan Rivers I’m not going to finish this entry in time.  We met the crew and played a game at trying to figure out who the captain was, as we drank champagne.

Afterwards, we headed down to dinner, where I joined Beth's family, us all in the same seating arrangements from lunch.  Davie went to join, I think, Danny and Sam, leaving an empty seat, which was taken by John Frick.  When he sat down, I gave him, literally, a hero’s welcome.  I reminded Beth about the chicken incident and Ushuaia and said that I was going to use the chopsticks again.  She told me to go for it, saying that I couldn’t burn her with cold duck salad, but she didn’t think I could eat the duck salad with my chopsticks.  She was wrong.  It was a veritable feast, and I drank too much wine.  After dessert, Andy and I ordered more veal, Andy because he was hungry, me because it amused me and because I’d rather have a cigar after veal than after dessert.  I took out two pairs of chopsticks, and we ate the veal with chopsticks.  I could not finish the veal, so I handed him half of one of my pieces with my chopsticks, and he grabbed it with his, which very much amused Beth.  She excused herself for a nap, saying that she would join us later for charades.

I went out to the smoking deck to smoke my Epicure and write my Locke.  Afterwards, my friends were nowhere to be found.  I figured that they were all tired from our epic session last night and had went to bed.  I was going to smoke my pipe, write my entry, and do the same.  However, I needed to find out our location so that I could write the proper dateline.  The place to do that was on the bridge.

Lo and behold!  All of my friends were there and had been there since dinner.  I got our position and course, and we soon went down to play charades.  Beth and Dom joined us right as we were getting started, and it was another epic session, lasting two hours.  Afterwards, we decided to head up to the 6^th Deck.  It was approaching 2 AM.

Okay, this was a problem for me now.  I could not not write my entry and smoke my pipe, no matter how much fun I was having.  I knew that, in this case, I would choose fulfillment value over enjoyment value.  I figured it out.  I would get my laptop and pipe and do it up there with them and then hang out with them afterwards.  I ran back down to the 3^rd Deck, rubbed out my tobacco, got my smoking gear and laptop, and headed back up.  I asked if anyone would be offended if I smoked, it being totally off limits up there.  They were pleased by the idea and a few wanted to share the pipe with me.  Okay, I could smoke with them until 30 minutes before sunrise and then write my entry.  Well, it was too windy to light the pipe, no matter what I tried.  Beth suggested I go inside just to light it, but there were smoke detectors right in the entrance, so that didn’t work.  Fuck it!  I went back down to get my torch and came back up.

Everyone was on the very top deck when I got back, so I went up there, where there were flammable materials.  It probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but I didn’t care.  I lit up the pipe easily with the torch and gave Danny and Davie their puffs.  Well, it was late and cold, people were tired and freezing, so everyone but Davie and I called it a night.  I didn’t want to delay my entry any longer, but I had a problem.  The 6^th Deck outside area was not connected with the rest of the outside.  How would I get my lit pipe to the 5^th Deck?  There was only way.  Put my hand over my pipe and make a run for it.  I did exactly that.  The hot smoke hurt, but I had no other option.

I went down to the 3^rd Deck, got the cord to recharge my now dead camera, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can watch the sunrise in 4 minutes, publish, and get a few hours of sleep.  Oh, while I was writing, some of the officers came up to me, not surprised to find me in my usual spot but surprised to see me smoking a pipe instead of a cigar.  They wanted to try the pipe, so I gladly obliged, but it was too strong for them.  I would have loved to chat with them longer, but I was on a tight schedule.  Okay, now I need to close.  2 minutes to sunrise.

Antarctica - Day 3 - The Drake Passage

12/29/14

At Sea, M/V Corinthian, Drake Passage

The Drake Passage, it is a place of legends, a name that evokes stories of horror, and today was the roughest sailing day of my life.  The crew kept telling us how lucky we were to have such a mild crossing of the Drake Passage.  When I woke up this morning, I did not know who would be leaving Cabin 341.  Would it be the new persona I had created for myself yesterday, or would I return to my old self and relegate myself to Locke and cigars?

It was a mixture of both.  I woke up and got ready for breakfast.  I put on shorts and a t-shirt.  Hmm, what shirt did I have that would be the least frequently visited location among this well-travelled group?  Ah, Guatemala.  I headed down to breakfast and sat down next to, I think, John.  It was someone from the dinner table last night.  The breakfast was not excellent, but it was good enough.  After my main course, I saw Sam come down, and she went to join Danny and his new friend, Kathy.  Since John(?) was about to leave, I took my coffee and sat down with the people my age.  The waiter then brought me my chopsticks, which I had left at my old seat.

After breakfast, we all went up to the 5^th Deck to do some wildlife watching.  Well, in my shorts and t-shirt, even with my overcoat, I was freezing, but there was a problem.  The only longs I packed were my suit pants and my pajama bottoms.  I was not going to wear the suit all trip, and I was not about to spend the entire trip in my pajamas, either.  Aha!  I had a solution.  I would use the pajama bottoms as leggings underneath my shorts.  It worked, but it looked ridiculous.  I asked Sam what she thought of the look, and she said that I should do whatever I needed to do to keep warm.  I liked her attitude.

I soon got bored of the socializing and excused myself to go downstairs.  I lit up my Cohiba and started on my Locke.  Hmm, this would be no good.  I was freezing, well, my legs were.  I decided I wear my parka and use my overcoat as a blanket.  It worked perfectly.  After my cigar, I went back inside, maybe rested for a bit, and then I think I went back out for a Fuente as I got started on my writing.  I started out just analysis of Locke’s Essay, comparing and contrasting his ideas to those of his predecessors and successors.

It was then time for lunch.  I sat down with John and Kathy, whom I then realized were father and daughter, and we were joined by the Colorado College group, which included Nancy Baxter (who of course did not remember me), L---, and L---’s grandmother (the other Nancy).  It was a veritable feast for lunch, and the conversation was good, though nowhere near as good as the one from dinner last night.  The other Nancy asked me where I was raised upon production of my chopsticks.  When I said Manhattan, she asked if I was raised in Chinatown.  The food was not enough for me and too much for her, so she offered me some of her turkey.  I impressed the group cutting the turkey while holding it with my chopsticks.

After lunch, I lied back down and then had my Ashton VSG as I continued my writing.  My desire for socializing was expended at that point, the social experiment all but over.  I just wanted to smoke and write and message my friends back home, the same four people I text every day.  Actually, well, technically they were not back home, one in Israel for two weeks, another lives in Florida, another in New Jersey, and the other was upstate for the weekend.  I continued to work on my writing as I answered the responses.

Afterwards, I went upstairs for some coffee, and some of my new friends were up there, so I mingled a bit before heading back down to lie down again.  At around 6 PM, I went out for a RP Royale, another one of the top ten cigars of the year.  This one was not worthy of the rating, and I will ditch it as soon as I am done with this entry.   My plan was to write my entry, change, and go down for dinner.  Well, two problems.  First, my computer was not charged.  I had plugged the cord into the laptop, but the cord was not plugged into the wall.  Okay, I would charge it for 30 minutes while I read another chapter of Locke and then write my entry for 30 minutes.

As I was about ready to go back for the computer, I was told there was a mandatory briefing.  Ugh, I hate that kind of stuff.  It got to be 7:15 PM, which meant I would be late for dinner if I finished my cigar and wrote my entry.  Once they started showing pictures of whales from this morning, I just walked up and left, got my computer, headed to the smoking area, relit my cigar, and wrote this entry, which I will close so that I can get ready for dinner.  When I next write, we will have Officially crossed the Antarctic Convergence, and we will be in Antarctic waters.

It is 1:30 in the morning, and it is as bright is day outside.  Sunrise is in two hours.  I will find no sleep tonight.

How can my first nights in Mont Tremblant or Vienna compare to the magical night I just experienced?  No, this smoking of the 2008 Christmas Pipe beats all others, and I don’t even care that I just lost my memory card. Well, I do care, but it pales in comparison to the wonder of the night.  When I went down for dinner, I tried to find my new friends, but the few that were there were all sitting at occupied tables.  What would I do?  Well, I made more new friends.

After dinner, I had my Avo, and while I was smoking it, watching the sun set, I realized that I did not like this new person I was becoming.  It was not me.  No, I would go back to my old self, and I swore then and there that I would never be anyone I was not.  John came down, and we chatted a little.  I actually liked him, so I didn’t mind chatting with him.  After the cigar, I went to the lobby to get better WiFi, and my plan was to go back to my room, rub out my tobacco, smoke my Christmas Pipe, finish this entry, and be asleep by midnight.

That was almost four hours ago.  Danny said that they were playing charades and invited me to join them.  All my new friends were there, Sam, Davie, Elizabeth, Kathy, and some new faces.  I literally had my Marius Moment.  Do I stay or do I go?  Do I socialize or stick to my plan?  I chose the former, and we had a great time.  It was an epic three-hour session of charades, and apparently I was really good at it, everyone calling me the MVP.  I made new friends with Luke and Frances, and, when it was time for the tie breaker, one last epic clue, our team went outside.

It was past 1 AM, and it was not yet dusk.  We agreed on The Origin of Species, and we won in the end.  We all said our good nights, and I went back to my room, knowing I would have to stay up until sunrise.  Unfortunately, sunrise will denote a new day, so I will not be able to include that in today’s entry.

I got my tobacco ready and headed outside.  I lit up my pipe and proceeded to write this entry.  I was going to send the picture of the twilight, but the memory card was not in the tablet.  I checked the camera.  It was missing.  Wonderful.  It was only like two photos that were not posted to Facebook, but the camera can only take 12 photos without the card.  I frantically searched for the card, but it was nowhere to be found.  I’m not too worry.  I’m sure someone on board can lend me a memory card.  Otherwise, I can make do with 12 photos per landing or just take smaller photos.  After I gave up my search, I continued to write this entry.

The events of this evening marked a change in me.  All I wanted to do tonight was smoke my pipe and go to bed.  I was ready to end my social experiment, but why did I go join my new friends?  It was a now or never moment.  If I didn’t join them now, I would not be doing any more socializing the entire trip.  I stayed because I was having fun, but why did I go in the first place?  I do not entirely know.  I think I went because I knew I might regret more not going than I could ever regret delaying my pipe.  After the first round, I bowed out.  I brought my coats back to my room, and took a U, planning to have my pipe right then.  While I was in the Uer, I decided that I would go back, and everyone was glad to see me.  We kept playing for another two hours, and it was fun, very fun.  I will stay up to the sunset, just like I did at MathCamp so many nights, because that is what this experience most reminds me of.  This is MathCamp in the Antarctic without the math.  On that note, I will close so that I can look for my card again and publish.

Antarctica - Day 2 - By Bus and By Boat

12/28/14

At sea, M/V Corinthian, Beagle Channel

And we’re off!  With my first puff of the Davidoff Nic Toro, our voyage has Officially begun.  That is always my first cigar for my first long drive a trip, and it is the cigar I smoked en route from Zagreb to the National Park a year ago.  This trip, it is the cigar I smoke as we navigate the Beagle Channel.  Last night, there was this woman going around introducing herself to anyone, “Hi, I’m Nancy Baxter.”  I had no desire to make new friends.  This trip was, for me, supposed to be about smoking cigars and writing philosophy, well, that and setting foot on the Great White Continent.  I didn’t even bother to dress or shower before I headed down for breakfast, deciding instead to save that for afterwards.  These were strangers whom I intended to remain strangers.

When Nancy Baxter approached me last night, I shook her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Mike.”  It was then that I realized that I could be anyone I wanted to be on this trip.  These people didn’t know me, didn’t know my personality, didn’t even know my name, and I would never have to see any of them again.  It was a very similar realization as I had in Israel, but it was not until 12 hours later, when I saw Nancy Baxter on the bus that I realized the potency of it.  “Hi, Nancy, good to see you again.”  Would she remember me?  Would she remember the fake name I gave her?  Of course not.  She asked me how I slept, and I responded.  It was at that point that I decided that, for the next 9 days, I would be someone else.  No, I would not be “Mike,” but I would not be the shy, introverted person I typically am.

I got off the bus, lit up my Cohiba, and took some photos at the first stop in Tierra del Fuego National Park.  We had 20 minutes, which was not enough time to finish my cigar, so I put it in the cigar saver and got back on board.  Well, how far would I take this social experiment?  I extended my hand to the woman sitting next to me.  “I’m Steven, by the way.”  “Vanessa.”  We exchanged pleasantries for the next minute or so.  Who was I?  This was not the same person that flat out ignored the couple sitting across from him last night.  We got to the second stop, got my brochure stamped, got coffee that was no better than awful coffee from breakfast (just like Israel), and smoked some more of the cigar.

The last stop was, literally, the End of the Road.  We could see Chile not 4 km away.  I finished my cigar by the time the group finished their little hike, and we got back on the boss.  Our next stop was lunch.  It was served family style, and I left my coat to take a U, my last Official U for quite some time, certainly not until we set foot in Antarctica.  When I got back, the girl who was, by far, the most beautiful girl in our group was sitting next to me with her family.  This was not about flirting.  This was about socializing, forcing myself to socialize in ways that I do not typically do, so I started making small talk with her step-brother, who was sitting across from me.  I then took out the chopsticks to use as a serving utensil.  Someone on the other side of me wondered out loud why she didn’t have chopsticks and then realized that I brought my own.  It did not go well, and I splashed Elizabeth trying to take a piece of chicken skin.

Yeah, I learned the names of, I think a dozen people today (Nancy, Vanessa, Dom, Elizabeth, Andy, L---, Sam, Dennis), okay, so eight new people.  Wait, that’s not me.  What good was coming out of this social experiment?  Would it really make my trip any more enjoyable than relegating myself to my philosophy and writing?  I could hardly see that as being possible.  The odds of seeing any of these people again is slim to none, so why should I care?  Anyway, I had no further interest in talking with Elizabeth and her family and instead went outside to smoke my Padron 50^th Anniversary, one of the top ten rated cigars of the year.

Dom and Vanessa followed shortly with some grand plan for her to take a picture of him scaring some birds with his drone.  I was not interested in that.  I just wanted to finish my cigar and stare at the pretty mountains.  That was exactly what I did.  When we got to town, I realized I would need lighter gas, as it was already empty, and it was only Day 2.  I got eight butane lighters and a tin of gas.  I also picked up two beers, a bottle of Malbec, and an opener.  They would not go to waste.

It was then time for us to board.  I checked in and went to my tiny cabin, which did not have operable windows and had a very sensitive smoke detector, along with numerous sprinkler heads.  I knew that I would not be smoking in my cabin.  I realized I still didn’t have access to the WiFi, so I went to the lobby.  There were two people about my age sitting down.  Actually, they were exactly my age.  It was a brother and sister (Dennis and Sam).  It turned out that Dennis was in my same year at NYU, and he majored in Philosophy.  Well, maybe I could use a new best friend for the next 10 days…

Anyway, the three of us formed a quick bond, and, when they brought me the code for my WiFi, I had no desire to use, not until our conversation came to a natural close.  This was not like Israel.  No, in Israel, you could not get a word out of me edgewise while I had my phone with me and connectivity.  Well, one person was able to, but that’s another story.  Actually, a few people were, but that’s not the point.  I put the password in, and I checked on my statuses and what not.  I sent out a bunch of messages, posted some updates, and then went back to my room.  I had to get a new code for my laptop, which I used to upload the last batch of South America photos.

It is almost dinner time, so I will wrap up.  We had an introductory briefing and a safety drill, and it was soon time to set sail.  I was going to go the smoking area, read some Locke, and smoke my Nic Toro.  Once I heard Sam’s voice call out, “Hi, Steven,” I knew that plan was out the window.  I followed my new friends up to the top deck whence we watched the harbor slowly fade away.  She is extremely well traveled, this being her seventh continent.  Actually, I will probably never see so many members of the Seven Club assembled in one place ever again in my life.  This was making seven for Vanessa, as well, six for Dom.  We were talking with three high schoolers, for all of whom this would make seven as well.  I felt poorly traveled this trip only taking me to four and five.  I really need to do that weekend in Casablanca as soon as possible.  Anyway, we chatted some more, joked around, and admired the views.  After the conversation started to falter, I excused myself and headed down to the third level, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my cigar and get dinner.

After the adventurous drives that brought me to Ottawa and Budapest, this boat ride through the Beagle Channel seems almost a let down, but, as I light up my 2007 Christmas Pipe, just as I did in Ottawa and Budapest, this view puts to shame the view of Parliament and the streets of Budapest.  It is close to midnight, and, off to my left is a sunset as beautiful as any I have ever seen.  Straight ahead a half moon rises (or maybe sets) over a dark sky.  The weather is pleasant enough for me to be sitting outside in my pajamas, flip flops and overcoat as I write this entry.

I suppose I shall start with dinner.  If my reader will allow me a bit and immodesty, I will call upon my favorite quote of Kennedy, “I think this is the most extraordinary collection of talent, of human knowledge, that has ever been gathered together at the White House, with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone.”  It was the greatest and most stimulating intellectual conversation have ever experienced at a meal since my summers at MathCamp.  There was not a single person at that table that could not hold their own in the conversation, no matter where the conversation veered.  All eight of us were up to the task and engaged in this fruitful and profitable debate and discussion.

When I entered the dining room, I sought out my new friends, Danny (not Dennis as I had previously written) and Sam welcoming me to the empty seat at their table.  I had missed the salad course, purposely, and ordered the John Dory.  I asked who John Dory was when they brought my fish.  Catching my jest, the person who was sitting next to me, John, pointed to my plate and said, “Him,” and made some joke about John Dory not being quick enough on his feet or something.  The conversation ranged from the ethical implications of Dom’s drone to what cameras will be like in 20 years to what public transporation and cars will be like in 20 years to the past and future of video games to people who like to use retro technology to the first computers and programming language.

When I took out my chopsticks, Danny and Sam’s father asked where I got them.  I acted all confused, but John had to spoil me fun, saying I had them in my pocket.  Danny and Sam got a kick out of the idea.  If I take all of my meals with them, one of two things will happen.  Either they will get bored of it, or they will want to get in on it.  In either case, it means I will have to start using a fork by the end of the trip.  After the meal, we excused ourselves and went our separate ways.  Sam went outside to see the penguins, and Danny went up to the 4^th Deck.

I checked my social media updates and then went to catch up with them, but they were nowhere to be found.  Instead, I went back to the smoking area to smoke my Partagas.  After it was done, I looked around again for them and was about to head back to my cabin when I heard a familiar voice call out, “Hey, Steven.”  She was bundled up, only her eyes and nose visible.  If it were not for her trademark nosering, I would not have recognized her.  We headed up together to the bar area where they had free coffee and where Danny was waiting.

This was not me.  Why wasn’t I smoking cigars and writing my philosophy?  I think Sokol summed it up best.  He asked how dinner was, and I said that the food was okay but the conversation excellent.  His response, “You actually spoke to people and made friends?” was spot on, so I referred him to my forthcoming entry.  L--- was there chatting with Danny, and when Nancy Baxter came over to ask where her grandmother was (Nancy, L---, and L---’s grandmother all being part of the same group), L--- said that her grandmother went to the room to read her book and insisted that her granddaughter go find “the young people.”  I realized that I was doing exactly the same thing.  The young people in their 20s had found each other and chatted with each other.

Why was I here?  This was no longer a challenge or a social experiment.  I was there because I was enjoying it, because I’d rather be up there with them than down in the smoking area with philosophers who have been dead for centuries.  What could the texts of Locke hold against Dom’s realization that maybe using the drone was not the best idea on this trip?  Did I want to read an Essay Concerning Human Understanding or did I want to interact with actual humans.  I made my choice.  It was the latter.  We talked and chatted for hours.  At one point, Sam said she was going to bed, then she looked at some pictures of penguins.  A new friend had joined us, Davie, possibly the youngest of the group.  An hour later, we had all rearranged ourselves around the table where the tablet that pictures of penguins was.

Eventually, we all decided to go to bed, but I knew I would find no sleep, certainly not until I wrote this entry and smoked my 2007 Christmas Pipe.  I changed into my pajamas and went to the smoking area to test the weather.  Davie was there and was shocked to see me outside in a t-shirt.  It was perfectly bearable, but I got my coat just in case and rubbed out my tobacco.  We are now turning out of the Beagle Channel, so I should wrap this up.  Anyway, I sat down out here, lit up my pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish it, finish my pipe, maybe have a beer, and get some sleep.

Antarctica - Day 1 - The South

12/27/14

Aeroparque Jorge Newbery, Argentina (AEP)

It’s a checklist I’ve gone through a thousand times probably when I travel: passport, water bottle, laptop, cell phone.  In theory, I do it every time I change locations, especially when I am leaving a vehicle.  Well, I thought I did, at least.  By the time I got into the airport, I realized that one was missing.  Granted, it was the most easily replaceable, the one that had the least practical value for the trip, and the one that had no sentimental value other than the data on it.  Yes, reader, I lost my cell phone.  I had planned for this entry to be a bit of an essay on the south, but that will have to wait until I am en route, I think.  Anyway, the main problem was that everything I would do to attempt to recover my cell phone required the use of my cell phone.

I immediately went running out, but my driver was gone.  There was a slip of paper I was given with the cab company and the car number on that.  I left that in the cab.  With that paper, it would have been an effortless process to recover the phone.  Instead, I had to rely on my broken Spanish to approach a cab driver and ask him to call out to the fleet to try and find my phone.  I would learn an hour later it was the wrong cab company.  In the meantime, I did everything I could to try and recover my phone, but it was all to no avail.  I begged strangers to let me borrow there phone so that I could try to call the wrong cab company and my own cell phone.  I had no luck.  I ran up to every portly driver in a van, hoping it was my driver coming to return my phone, only to be greeted by a look of bewilderment each time.  There was nothing to be done.  After waiting for an hour and a half, I went inside to the information desk.  They found out the name of the right cab company, but they had no way of tracking down the driver without the slip of paper.

In the end, I realized that I only would need the phone to take pictures (and maybe to use Instagram), the rest could be done on my laptop or wait until I got back to New York.  I did, however, lament the loss of the text messages since my last backup.  I like to keep text messages for archival purposes, so losing three weeks of text messages (probably around 2000 messages) really hurt.  I got angry at myself for forgetting to do a backup before I left, as I typically do.  It was so stupid.  I always do a backup, and, the one time I needed to do it, I forgot.  Well, resigning myself to never seeing the phone again, certainly not before I got on the boat, I went upstairs to the shopping area to buy a new camera.  They had one better: tablets.  Well, that would work.  I could access all of my social media, and I would be able to take and post pictures.

That solved that problem.  I just wouldn’t be able to get back my text messages unless my phone was miraculously recovered.  It’s not impossible that it will be waiting for me at EZE when I get there in 11 days, but I’m not counting on it.  I will most likely need to replace it when I get back to New York.  With his erratic driving, the phone has probably slid underneath the seat and is lost for the foreseeable future.  Then, to make matters worse, as I sat down while I was setting up my tablet, I split the seam of my pants.  I suppose that is something else I will need to replace once I get back to New York.

Anyway, I guess I have time to talk about the south.  In all of my excitement about setting foot on the Great White Continent, I had forgotten that I will actually be checking two continents off my list on this trip.  The other, of course, being South America.  In fact it will be the first time I am south of the equator.  I say will, despite the dateline I have just written.  I got to Kennedy at 3 PM Argentina time, and it will not be until 26 hours later, 6 hours from now, that I will Officially be able to say that I have been south of the equator.  I landed in an airplane, got directly in a taxi, which took me to another airport, where I will take another airplane, followed by another taxi, so it will not be until I reach my hotel in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world that I will Officially have set foot in South America, that I will Officially have been south of the equator.

My list of continents is still at three for the moment.  It will be five soon enough.  The flight was awful, the entertainment system lacking, the food options being not much more than junk food, the legroom too small, but I managed to get enough sleep that I felt wide awake when I landed.  The lines for immigration was immense and slow moving, but, at 5 AM, they opened up more stations, and it breezed through.  It was a perfunctory process.  It was then time to get the cigars.  I needed an Official cigar of the trip, and I knew just what I wanted, though I knew it was unlikely they would have it.  They only had like 5 different boxes, but one of them was, indeed, the Cohiba Siglo II the very box I had wanted.

I was shocked that I didn’t have any trouble with my card.  It seems as if every time I tell Citibank I’m leaving the country, my card gets blocked anyway, so I didn’t bother this time, and it worked, shocker.  Once I got in the cab, I lit up my cigar, and the jovial and erratic driver took me from the international airport to the national one, in the time it took me to smoke the cigar.  Between all of my hand luggage, the cigar, and my coat, I didn’t do my customary check.  I felt something against my left thigh, so I figured I was fine.  However, it was just the cable for the phone that I had been keeping in the pocket with the phone.  I have already recounted my failed attempt to recover it, and I went to a phone station to try calling my phone, but there was no answer.

As I was going up the escalator, I saw someone running towards me with my duty free bag.  Wow, if I had lost the box of Cohibas, that would have actually been almost as bad as losing the phone.  Well, I left my luggage on the escalator, ran down to get the bag, and ran back up before the luggage reached the top.  I then got the tablet, split my pants, tried the information station again, resigned myself to defeat, and went through security.  Once I got to the gate, I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get something to drink, not having had a drop of liquid since I landed at EZE five hours ago.  I might need something stronger than Sprite Zero…

Aboard AR 1858, En route AEP-USH

It is usually not a good idea to ask what else can go wrong because, invariably, something else will go wrong.  As soon as I closed at AEP, I went to take a picture of the airport with my new tablet.  I looked for the button to switch from the front-facing to the rear-facing camera, but I couldn’t find it.  I then looked at the back of the tablet.  No camera!  Fuck!!!  All it had was a 1.3 MP front-facing camera, which was basically okay for video chat or rudimentary selfies.  It was entirely useless for taking pictures of glaciers and penguins.  I’d be just as good enough taking out a pencil and sketching the damn penguins!  I went to the shopping area, prepared to buy a new camera, but they didn’t have any.  The place where I bought my tablet was on the other side of security.  No, I didn’t think I’d have enough time.  I figured that I would be able to find a camera at a tourist shop in Ushuaia.

I meant to write about this when in my previous entry when I was discussing about giving into panic versus find your courage, but I almost never made it to Jerusalem two years ago.  After I left my water bottle at security, I went through very similar stages as I went through today.  It started with checking every single place it might be to no avail.  The next stage was to see what I could do to recover it.  With the water bottle, there was not much I could do 7000 miles away, so I trusted the task to my mother’s capable hands.  As soon as I landed at Ben Gurion, I sent her an email explaining what happened.  In the end, she pulled through, but, at first, it appeared to be lost forever.  I sank into a deep depression.  I certainly did not want to be forced to make friends with those 40 or so strangers, to be forced to have a good time, to be forced to engage in those stupid nightly socializing activities.  I just wanted to smoke Cubans and cry.

Well, I’m not much one to cry in front of strangers, but I will smoke Cubans with strangers, and I started to form some easy friendships that way, which began to raise my spirits.  Once my mother confirmed that it was lost, I told her I wanted to come home.  Enough was enough.  Well, if I had gone home after the first couple of days, Aliyah most likely would not be my girlfriend now.  In fact, anyone who finds my phone will see a picture of me on the lock screen, of Aliyah, me, and the water bottle.

When my mother said that she would be shipping me the water bottle to my hotel, I started to cheer up.  I’d have to check my journal from the trip, which I did not bring on this laptop, but I do not think it was until we arrived in Jerusalem that I was truly cheered up.  It was the elevator incident, no doubt.  A bunch of us packed into an elevator, and, when the door closed, it started to sink.  Well, everyone but the soldiers and I panicked.  The girl literally fell right on my lap.  Once the doors opened, we started to climb out, and this guy who was completely nuts handed me his coffee.  He then shoved me out of the way, causing me to spill his coffee on one of the soldiers.  Thinking quickly, I patted the soldier on the shoulder and told him that, in America, it was considered good luck to have coffee spilt on you.  He bought it.  I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve told that story and recounting it again cheers me up once more.

Anyway, once I got on the plane today, again, totally depressed, unable to blame heat or hunger or exhaustion or tiredness, knowing that I was depressed and knowing exactly why, I realized that I didn’t have my scarf.  I have had that scarf for the better part of a decade, and it has literally been to hell and back with me.  I have lost it so many times in so many countries, only to retrace my steps each time and find it.  Well, this time it appeared lost for good.  I was past caring at that point.  Then, as we were about to take off, I saw a flash of gray at the front of the plane.  Was that it?  I saw it again.  Yes!  It was.  I told a passing flight attendant, and she brought me the scarf, my spirits immediately missing.  I don’t even care about the phone, anymore, though it would be nice to have the text messages back, but all that matters now is finding a decent camera to use to take pictures of penguins and glaciers.  Once I get to Ushuaia, I will check the airport.  If they don’t have one, then I’ll try going into town, at which point I will be able to say that I have Officially been south of the equator, and it will be in the southernmost city in the world.

Ushuaia, Argentina

I have at long last come to the end of the world, and it was all that was promised.  I had always wondered if I would find the extreme south as wonderful as magical as I find the North.  Now I know.  I have not yet crossed the 60^th Parallel, yet this small city at the end of the world is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited.  It is Juneau on steroids, and that is saying a lot.  Back in my hotel, staring at this scenic vista out my window, fully fed, an empty bladder, and smoking an OpusX, with my new tablet and camera plugged into my laptop, I am happy once more.  I have Officially checked a new continent off my list.  The last time I did that was when I had breakfast that first morning in Israel.

This will likely not be the last time I draw a parallel between these two trips.  I was a very different person when I first got off that bus in Israel than I am now, and I like the person I am now far better.  I have seen the world since then, and I have matured greatly.  In fact, it all started when I got my water bottle back, the first time I used it in when we were hiking in the Negev.  That was the day that changed my life.  No, it didn’t change my life because I had gotten my water bottle.  It changed my life because that was the day that I started judging people for who they were rather than what they were, finding myself attracted to women because of how they thought and talked and acted rather than how they looked.  When I woke up that next morning in the Bedouin camp, I was a changed man, and I knew I would never go back.

Once we got to Ushuaia International, I found my tour guide, but they were waiting for a bunch of other people, so I went to see if they had a camera at the duty-free.  They did not, but they did have something else I needed, a three-pack of Hoyo de Monterrey Epicure Especial, the #4 rated cigar of 2014.  Perfect.  I sent out some emails, did some Facebook chatting, checked on my notifications, and got on the bus.  It was a beautiful bus ride though it pained me not to be able to take pictures out the window.

When we got to the hotel, the guide told me exactly where to go.  I had a taxi called and got myself situated.  I took a picture outside the hotel and posted it to Instagram.  Once I was in the cab, I lit up my Epicure, and it was absolutely deserving of the ranking.  There was an ashtray outside the camera store, and I got what I needed, a cheap Lumix with the smallest memory card they had.  It looked like something you’d get out of a prize machine at the arcade, but it had 12 MP for 16x9 photos, so it would do the trick.  I could take pictures of penguins and glaciers to post to Facebook.  That was what mattered.  That was what lifted my spirits.  I took a bunch of pictures after I relit my cigar and then wandered around town, getting souvenirs and gifts for my coworkers and girlfriend, along with a crucial necessity: a bottle of Argentinian sparkling wine for New Year’s Eve.

I then got my first Official meal south of the equator, which was and always will be the southernmost Official meal of my life.  It was an Argentinian beer, steak, and these delicious fried potatoes.  Technically it was lunch, not having eaten in 12 hours, and I was starving.  It fit the bill, and I relit my cigar once more before getting a taxi back to the hotel.  Once I got to my room, I saw that my tablet had blown up, more Facebook Likes and from people who rarely Like my photos.  I did what still needed to be done to Officially check South America off my list, lit up my OpusX, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, as they will soon be serving dinner.

A treacherous drive through an awful blizzard to Toronto in 2012, a late-night drive that took far longer than expected to Sarajevo in 2013, and losing my cell phone en route to Ushuaia in 2014?  What do all of these adventures have in common?  They were Day 1 of my New Year’s trip and culminated with me smoking my 2006 Christmas Pipe in my hotel room at the end of the adventure.  This is the first time it has been before midnight.  This is the first time it has been light out, even, though it is approaching 11 PM here.  What adventures will the Beijing, China dateline recount in 2015 as I smoke this pipe once more?

The past is the past, the phone is lost, and I have moved on.  I am once more happy.  I have, in fact, been very happy since I got the camera in town, and my life, right now, is pretty much perfect.  Tomorrow, I will be getting on the boat and heading to Antarctica.  We will attempt to make landings on the continent on the 31^st of December and the 1^st of January, which will make for an epic New Year’s.  I have my sparkling wine, and I have my Davidoff Year of the Sheep for midnight, just as I have had each of the past two years.  Well, there was a kink two years ago, but my travelling companions and I will take that story to the grave.  We did not technically get to drink sparkling wine that year, but we had plenty of whiskey.  In Vienna I had my bottle of sparkling Austrian wine and the Year of the Horse, so that is the tradition that will continue in Hong Kong, in Sydney, and wherever I choose to ring in the New Years of my 30s.

Dinner was slow and awful, the steak overcooked, and the potatoes soggy, and the service atrotious.  They should have just done a buffet style rather than trying to serve plates to everyone at once.  At least breakfast will be buffet style, but if this is an indication of how the meals on the cruise will be, I will get very grumpy very quickly.  Tomorrow morning we will be exploring the National Park before we get on the boat.  I just want to get on the boat.  I’m ready for this.  I have carefully picked out my cigars for tomorrow, and I have chosen Locke to be my first philosopher to read.  Apparently, he was the predecessor to Hume, and I have never read his epistemology before, so it should be interesting.

After dinner, I went back up to my room to finish my OpusX and pack for the morning, consolidate my bags, rejigger my electronics cables, yada yada yada.  After I was done, I went back to the dining room, and I was not surprised that people were still eating dessert.  I sat down where I had been sitting and asked for my dessert, only to get a confused look.  “Mi postre, por favor.”  That worked.  I am nowhere near fluent in Spanish.  I won’t even say that my Spanish is good, but it’s definitely decent.  I can get by and make myself understood.  My Spanish is definitely better than the English of most people I will encounter in Latin America, so we will typically converse in Spanish.

I’m not even sure why I brought this up.  When I go to Beijing next year, I will certainly not be able to get by on broken Mandarin, nor was I much able to get by on broken French in Quebec last year.  Anyway, the dessert was good, and I came up to light up my 2006 Christmas Pipe and write this entry, which I will now close so that I can edit it down to size and publish it before getting some much needed sleep in a real bed.