Felicity Aston

My Travels

I was going to die in Antarctica that much was certain. The image of my frost covered body, blanched and lifeless, filled my mind as I glanced around at the scene of my inevitable death. In all directions the empty wilderness of Antarctica stretched away from me, the only feature on the landscape being the division between snow and sky.

I gazed mournfully at my team who were rapidly disappearing over the horizon. The six individuals skiing in single file had already shrunk in size to become a single indistinguishable mass with numerous flailing limbs, like an oversized millipede. Over the previous two years I had gathered this team of women from all over the Commonwealth. Hailing from places as diverse as Jamaica, Singapore and Cyprus, most of the women had never seen snow, slept in a tent or put on a ski before joining the expedition but now, we were on our way to the South Pole, skiing more than 900km across one of the most daunting and hostile environments on the planet.
Each woman pulled a sledge that bulged with a share of the food and fuel we would need for our 40-day expedition but several minutes earlier the sledge I was towing had jammed on a lump of ice and stopped me in my tracks. The team had marched on, unaware I had stopped. By the time I realised my sledge was firmly stuck, they were already a long way ahead of me. I called out to my teammate from Brunei, who was next in line. 'Era! Stop!'
Seeing there was no response I called again, pulling down my balaclava so that my mouth was clear of material, my shoulders heaving with the effort - but my shouts were carried away by the wind.
I watched the line for a while, confident that at any moment someone would look behind them. Seconds passed.
Nothing.
I was gradually being left alone. Without my team and the equipment they carried in their sledges I was completely defenceless against the fatal temperatures of Antarctica. I heaved again at my sledge, my strength boosted by visions of a cold, lonely death. This time the sledge moved a little. I hacked at the ice with my ski-pole and boot, desperately trying to break the sledge free - and pulled hard. The sledge shot forward, knocking me off balance. I scrambled to my feet and without a pause, set off after the team. I caught up just as they realised I was gone. Reena, my teammate from India at the front of the line, looked behind her and did a double take as she noticed there was one missing. Era swung around on her skis in shock to find that I wasn't behind her, then looked up to spot me in the distance.
'You could have left me behind,' I panted as I arrived behind them. The girls all looked sheepish, shuffling on their skis. As we continued, I noticed Reena checking behind her after every few paces and my panic was gradually replaced with quiet laughter. For the rest of the day the team looked as if they'd developed a serious twitch, each of them glancing over their shoulder every few minutes.
They were not going to risk losing me again.



(This article was first published in Travel Saturday Guardian 14.05.11)

'My Travels' is an ongoing series in the Guardian newspaper in which writers recall their most memorable travel moments.
In this edition, the leader of a record-breaking expedition to the Antarctic recalls how she nearly didn't make it to the South Pole.