In my first blog, which was written before we reached the coast, I described my experience as “unusual”. The moment we landed it grew to “extraordinary”, and it soon reached “spectacular” - and I hadn’t taken more than a few steps from the zodiac! Since then the intensity of what we have been through has shot up to such high levels that it took me some time to finally catch up. Today, on the eight day of our expedition, I caught up. Why did it take me so long? Well, I’ve been so busy not getting seasick, dressing up warmly, attending lectures and briefings, and taking pictures of everything that is moving and even more pictures of the things that are not moving, that I didn’t make time to actually step back and absorb it all. Today, I stood up on the deck, unglued my camera from my nose and just took a deep breath. That’s when it hit me. Hard.

Antarctica is the perfect place for self exploration. She strips off your defensive layers one by one until you stand before her plain and transparent. She strips off all your protective disguise, all the different faces you wear - for your mother, for your lover, for your friends, for your boss. You stay before her vulnerable, all your fears and weaknesses exposed. And strangely, you feel at peace. As if you met the oldest friend you could ever have - a friend from once upon a time when the sea was clear, the land was untainted and the snow was blindingly white and pristine. And you feel an urge to share with her all your deepest treasures and all your darkest secrets. Because she will listen and accept you as you are, without judging or questioning. You don’t need to prove anything to her - how fast you are, how smart, how detail-oriented. You don’t need to say anything - how beautiful she is, how powerful, how ageless. How much you want her to stay forever as she is now. How she makes you feel safe and protected, and oh, so at home. And how you will do anything, anything! to give her protection so that your children can face her one day as you are facing her now. There is no need for praise or promises. Because at this moment it’s just you and her. And it finally feels right.

The people here are wonderful, quite diverse and from 25 different countries. As we cruised through Iceberg Alley yesterday morning, it occurred to me that there couldn’t possibly be anywhere else in the world at that moment where 70 virtual strangers were experiencing complete and utter contentment together. No drama, no conflict, no tension, no judgment. Only peace and utter joy.

…. 10 minutes later

To give you an idea of what it’s like here…as I was about to save this entry, the bridge announced a sighting of Orcas (killer whales). Keep in mind that Orcas haven’t been seen out here since early January. Every single person on this ship, including the crew, dropped what they were doing, grabbed cameras (which you must have on you at ALL times), and rushed out into the freezing cold. I was the first person to reach the bow. Off the starboard side of the ship was a family of Orcas. They cruised along aside the ship before turning towards us and crossing the bow about 50 yards in front of us. I don’t know if the tears running down my face were from the bitter cold wind or my emotional reaction to seeing these elusive creatures in their natural habitat. Either way, it was absolutely spectacular.

Icebergs, like islands, pop out of the crystal clear water; small lily pads of ice float on the surface, creating patterns in the ocean. The actual continent contains no trees or greenery; instead, volcanic rock and snow create the most breathtaking hills and mountains ever seen. For the last week, I have had no human contact outside of the other 80 team members and 30 staff on our boat; we have been completely isolated, allowing us to connect with nature uninterrupted.

After spending a few days in this spectacular, mysterious continent, I can understand Robert Swan and the 2041 teams’ passion for Antarctica. It is the only place in the world untouched – and has the potential to remain pure for future generations. Seeing Antarctica firsthand helps the message of global warming and environmental consciousness to resonate. In a global sense, it is important to preserve Antarctica; in a local sense, it is important to take small, everyday steps to reduce our individual waste.

During one of our first lectures, Annie, the CEO of 2041, spoke about her love for the continent of Antarctica. While listening, I grasped onto the concept that Antarctica is the only continent in the world with no native population, where Mother Nature rules rather than a president or king. Correspondingly, as our ship began to sail away from the coast of Argentina, I read the large banners on the dock stating, “You are leaving the end of the world.” Although I have always considered the world, earth and globe as one, interchangeable entity, I realized that Antarctica, although within our earth, is actually a world of its own, with different rules, landscapes and beauty. By being taken out of my world for two weeks and placed in the unique land of Antarctica, I hope to come back rejuvenated and with a different viewpoint on life.

After two days time, several Dramamine tablets and a few creative ways to pass the time (i.e., reenactments of scenes from the Titanic and a miniature golf tournament), we finally spotted land. The ship sailed past an iceberg and several whales this morning, giving sign that we were close to the coast of Antarctica. As my jaw dropped and index finger rapidly pressed on the shoot button of my camera, I knew that I was at just the beginning of an extraordinary adventure.

So far I managed to ask almost every one on the ship about their names, occupations and countries of origin. I also managed to forget it all right away. I blame it to the pills (against seasickness, that is). I am not sure what and whom to blame for my 6 hour detour in El Calafate (I got off the plane at the wrong stop - yeah, no comment…). But I will have enough time to contemplate and make up a story that doesn’t make me look as silly and loopy as I really am.

So, yesterday most of us spent our free time sleeping on and off, and making sure to jump out of bed on time so as not to breach a Bronco 5 (that’s the rule that requires you get to the designated place 5 minutes before the start of an event; otherwise Jumper gives you a harsh, reproachful look, and believe me, you don’t want that - you will need an anti-freeze to get your blood flowing again). Although we were considerably out of it, we managed to take advantage of a few great lectures on the history and wildlife of Antarctica as well as a presentation on climate change. We also managed to stay lucid for long enough to have a few improvised but resourceful conversations on environmental awareness.

Today was more eventful than yesterday, partly because most of us are actually awake. We saw our first whales (mostly the steam coming out of the water and the occasional back or tail), our first iceberg (it’s amazing how many pictures one can take of a block of ice and still be excited), our first land on the horizon (which included a stunning glacier), and our first penguin! Throughout the day we had more lectures and discussions on the effect of climate change on the environment and our role in protecting the fragile eco-system. The peak of emotions, however, was reached when Robert Swan and his companion (the one who looks like a good-natured Castro (yeah, an oxymoron…)) arrived on our ship and surprised us all at dinner. Robert walked around smiling and greeted everyone as if we all were old buddies of his. Now we are all psyched about getting on the shore tomorrow and visiting the e-base! This will finally break the cycle of eating, sleeping, listening to lectures, and crowding on the sides of the boat to take pictures of the slightest change on the horizon.

Now it’s time for bed. We would all need a good rest before the start of yet another unusual day.

I’ve been so thankful that we had such a calm crossing of the Drake Passage. We lost about 10-15 people for about 48 hours due to seasickness, but I am happy to report that I wasn’t one of them! We’ve been passing the time with basic activities, such as talking, playing cards, putting golf balls in our lounge, and attending brief lectures on climate change and local wildlife. We’ve also started shooting a remake of “Titanic”….minus the sinking part of course. It’s amazing what you can come up with to pass the time when there are no TVs to watch and you feel too sick to read!

I’ll sign off for now, and will hope that I have another blogging opportunity before too long. A special hello to everyone at Oliver Wyman, especially the NA EA Team. Marylou…give Boo a kiss for me! Hi Mom!

I live in Los Angeles, and our battles with climate change center around the tremendous amount of pollution that is created by our auto-centric way of life.

I can’t help but notice that in the past few years the scale and frequency of tragedy caused by acts of nature has increased dramatically. The tsunami in Indonesia, hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, the cyclone in Bangladesh and the unusual winter tornado outbreaks in the southern us…just to name a recent few. Here in New York, I see less snow than I am supposed to, and the hottest summer days seem oppressive. In California, where I lived nearly my whole life until 2005, the storms I hear about seem unusually frequent and intense.

We all know of some of the impacts of global warming – snow-covered mountains turn into lonely bare peaks, the ski season gives way to slush season”, and terrible hurricanes hit lands unprepared for such extremities. Although I have never visited New Orleans, I am hardly an avid skier and it will take me some time to find the Kilimanjaro on the map (not a relief one), I am affected by the climate change, as is every one of us. And since I am affected personally, I have to ask myself the question: what can I, as an individual, do to minimize this effect? I am looking forward to getting an answer to this question in the next few weeks.