Bald-Headed Men - Alone in Antarctica: The First Woman to Ski Solo Across the Southern Ice - page 153

vulnerable as when travelling alone. If I'd had real companions
I'm sure that Antarctica would have appeared less daunting
and the challenges of life on the ice more manageable. The
knowledge that any relapse into bad behaviour wouldn't be
observed made self-discipline all the more difficult. I was
acutely aware of the fact that ever since the plane had first left
me alone on the Ross Ice Shelf I had been far more emotionally
indulgent with myself than on any other expedition. If I felt
upset I cried, if I was annoyed with myself I got visibly angry.
I allowed my inner emotions to flow into outward expression
because there was no one to witness my outbursts. I had cried
far more during this journey than on any other simply because
there was no one to witness it - but then, perhaps, nothing
would have felt so desperate if I had had a companion.
I had known that the good weather wouldn't last forever, that
the sun could only protect me for so long, but even so as I
emerged from my tent the following morning I couldn't help
but feel deflated. The contrast had faded almost to nothing.
'But you promised!' I whined at the sky, remembering the
assurances from the sun the previous day.
I heard a thought in my head that didn't feel like my own. 'I
promised I wouldn't leave you all day - and I didn't. Today is
a new day.'
Grudgingly I had to concede that, strictly speaking, the
promise had been day specific. I struck camp in a sulk, dreading
the mind-numbing hours of stumbling and frustration that
I knew were ahead of me. It didn't seem fair to allow me a
glimpse of what could be, only to bury it in cloud once again.
'What did you expect from Antarctica?' came the same
voice-like thought.