From JuJu with Love

Why Antarctica Will Always Call Me Back

People usually assume my favorite trip was Australia and New Zealand. Or French Polynesia. Or an African safari. And honestly, all of those were incredible.

But my favorite trip?

It surprises people every time.

Antarctica.

People think I’m crazy. Why would you even want to go there? they ask. And my answer is always the same: Don’t even go there — unless you’ve actually been there.

We went in February 2020.

Three short weeks after we returned home, the world shut down. Airports emptied. Borders closed. Travel stopped. Life paused.

Looking back now, it feels almost surreal. We stood at the edge of the world just before the world itself went quiet. We didn’t know what was coming — none of us did — but we were given this extraordinary gift of freedom, awe, and adventure at the very last moment.

This trip checked off two new continents for me. I had never been to South America, so a bunch of us met early and spent several days exploring before the cruise. We wandered Buenos Aires, soaking in the city’s energy, and one day even hopped on a speed ferry to Colonia, Uruguay — a country I never imagined I’d visit.

Then we flew south to board the ship.

Most people dread crossing the Drake Passage. The rough seas. The motion. The seasickness. But while others struggled, I felt pure euphoria. I knew something extraordinary was waiting for us.

People were so worried about “Drake’s Shake” that they were running around before departure buying up ginger candy, ginger chews, ginger cookies — anything ginger that anyone claimed might help with nausea. Some people were fully willing to sacrifice five pounds of their precious 11-pound carry-on allowance just to pack ginger.

Five pounds. Of ginger.

And Antarctica…

There are no words.

One of our expedition leaders, Helga, said it best: “If you can describe Antarctica, you haven’t been there.” She was right. Completely right.

The glaciers. The impossible shades of blue. The stillness. The water so clear it feels unreal. Whales surfaced beside us. Penguins waddled along the ice. Seals and sea lions rested as if they owned the place — because they do.

We spent six unforgettable days cruising around the peninsula, stepping ashore, taking it all in, humbled by how small we were in such a vast, untouched place.

Ironically, the hardest part of Antarctica wasn’t the cold — it was the packing.

We were limited to one checked suitcase that could weigh no more than 50 pounds and a carry-on that had to be under 11 pounds. Eleven pounds. For Antarctica.

I went to REI beforehand and basically bought half the store. Layers on layers on layers. And then came the strategy sessions. We spent hours on the phone before we left, discussing packing plans and contingencies.

Not sightseeing strategies.

Bathroom strategies.

Because once you leave the ship in Antarctica, there are no bathrooms. None. Just ice, snow, and penguins who look like they’re silently judging you.

At one point, we even seriously discussed packing Depends. I wish I were kidding.

To keep my luggage under the weight limit, I wore my heavy winter boots onto the plane from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia — even though it was 67 degrees when we left Buenos Aires. There I was, trudging through the airport in heavy winter boots, all so my luggage wouldn’t be overweight. I was sweating, uncomfortable, and questioning my life choices… all in the name of polar exploration.

It was ridiculous. It was uncomfortable.

And it was completely worth it.

I also expected Antarctica to be brutally cold. Lose-your-face cold. But while we were there, temperatures hovered between 32 and 38 degrees Fahrenheit.

Back home in Michigan right now?

It’s 4 degrees.

Turns out I was warmer at the bottom of the world than I am in my own backyard.

And just when I thought the trip couldn’t possibly offer more, it gave us one final gift. After the cruise, we traveled north and stood at Iguazú Falls — on both the Argentine and Brazilian sides — watching water thunder over the edge with a power that left me completely speechless.

Ice and roar. Silence and force.

Two continents. Multiple countries. Amazing friends. Endless wonder.

Most places I’ve been, no matter how much I loved them, I usually say the same thing: I don’t need to go back. The world is too big, and there’s still so much left to see before I start duplicating destinations.

But Antarctica is different.

Without hesitation, I know this to be true: if someone asked me tomorrow, I’d go back at the drop of a hat.

Some places you visit once and carry with you forever.

Antarctica is a place that calls you back.

And when it does — I’ll answer.

From Juju with Love 💙❄️✈️

What My Travel Sisters Said

After sharing this story, messages started arriving from the friends who stood beside me on that frozen continent, and they reminded me again that the best part of travel isn’t just the places — it’s the people you share them with.

“Such perfectly descriptive writing! I was there again.” ❤️

“This is your best story writing so far… we were awestruck the entire time! Don’t forget the boot wash every time we came back onboard!” — Helene

“You have crafted an essay that could have come from any of our hearts.” — Judy

And that’s exactly it. Antarctica was unforgettable, but sharing it together is what made it truly special.