All the way south

In winter on the Antarctic peninsula, it gets so cold that even the sea freezes over. Frozen seawater makes getting around easier, and once upon a time it allowed three British scientists from the Faraday Antarctic research base to ski their way across the solid sea ice to spend some leisure time away from the base. Around about the time they reached Petermann Island, six miles away, a big storm kicked up and broke up the sea ice. They had radio contact from a hut on the island. At first, they provided updates every day. Then once a week. Then once a fortnight. Eventually, they cut contact altogether. With constant inclement weather and pack ice remaining on the water, it was a long period of time before their location could be reached. By the time it was, they were already presumed dead. When rescuers entered the hut, the one you see above, all they found were penguin feet nailed to the tables. Presumably they had gone mad from hunger and isolation. This was in 1982. Hea...

Easter Island is not big. It's about the same size as Lichtenstein (168 sq km), with a population of just under 5000 people. Despite being a five hour flight out into the pacific, I was expecting a little plane with little or no amenities. I had my novel ready to go. I could barely believe it when our assigned gate was connected to a 787 Dreamliner, one of the best planes in the sky. Despite the amazing transport, this was still with dodgy LATAM airlines, who reinforced the skeptical opinion I hold of them when, after leaving the gate and making our way towards the runway, we had to go back because they "forgot three people". This added an hour plus to our journey time, so I managed to squeeze in three movies on my way across the pacific. The massive size of our airliner was a total mismatch to the tiny airport in Hanga Roa, the only town on the island. I had never left a plane this big by walking on the tarmac before. A sleepy late arrival to a sleepy town slap bang in...