Life Raft - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 123

which I was instructed to indulge myself with 'a proper wash'.
I was amazed that these kindly strangers would not only take
the time to come and greet me but would do so in the worst of
weather. I was touched and grateful.
Eventually I let myself be led away from the Pole by my
friends towards the visitors' camp nearby. Although my
original plan had been not to spend any time at the Pole,
during the long, lonely days on the plateau I had lured myself
onwards with the promise of a rest day when I arrived. Now,
there was no question of leaving immediately. I revelled in the
sensation of release that came alongside the security that is
concomitant with being around other people. Warmth, food,
shelter, company and safety were readily available without
effort or thought on my part. I spent an entire day indulging
in freedom from the pressure of having to look after myself,
freedom from the exhausting responsibility of having to be
aware of every action and its potential consequences. The
respite felt like a drug and I drifted through my chores like a
contented sleepwalker. I emptied my sledges, purging them of
rubbish and poo bags and my one remaining ration bag before
carefully refilling them with supplies for the next leg of my
journey. In the resupply bags I had prepared for myself I found
not only rations and stove fuel but a fresh set of underwear,
new lighters (all of which worked when I anxiously tested
them) and a small bag of foody treats (a small round of soft
cheese and some salty corn snacks) that I devoured on the spot.
Riffling through supplies and equipment left at the Pole by
previous expeditions already finished and gone home I was
delighted to find not one, but two large boxes of matches. It
would be enough to last me for the entire journey if the lighters
refused to ever produce fire again. Curiously my three original