Polar Bears or Penguins, Poles Apart, All Magical

People often ask why I’m so passionate about polar travel. The truth is, the polar ends of the Earth change you. I learned that lesson first in the Arctic, aboard an expedition ship bound for the North Pole region. On our first evening, our captain smiled and said, “In the South, you step off the ship and a penguin greets you. There is magic absolutely everywhere you look. In the North, there is just as much magic — but it takes more of an endeavor to find it.” He was right.

The Magic of the Arctic

Our adventure began with a flight from Oslo to Longyearbyen in the Svalbards, a remote Norwegian archipelago halfway between mainland Europe and the North Pole. Svalbard is more than stark beauty — it’s scientifically vital. Here lies the Global Seed Vault, the world’s backup hard drive for agriculture. We visited shortly after Syria withdrew ancient grain seeds lost to war, an act that reminded me how precious — and vulnerable — our natural heritage is.

We circumnavigated Svalbard, made zodiac landings on tiny desolate islands and spotted a handful of polar bears. The Arctic makes you earn its wonders. Some days we attended naturalist lectures while the sea stretched empty and silent. Other days we enjoyed harmonica lessons from a professional musician onboard — yes, every guest received their own harmonica — culminating in a joyful, slightly imperfect, end-of-voyage concert.

Crossing the Greenland Sea, the captain broadcast at any hour if wildlife appeared. In August’s endless daylight, that meant I kept my parka by the bed so I could dash outside in my pajamas in the wee hours of the morning. One night we watched a polar bear and cub swimming beside the ship — they can swim 150 miles — and our midnight wildlife viewing turned into a celebratory party when the crew opened the bar.

But the greatest Arctic moments came 100 miles off the coast of Greenland, where we encountered nearly twenty polar bear sightings on the ice floe. Some lounged, others tended their cubs, and a few fed on a fresh seal kill. It was raw, wild, and unforgettable. From there we cruised sun-splashed Greenland fjords, spotted shaggy muskox on the tundra, and continued to Iceland’s rugged west coast, completing a journey in Reykjavik that revealed the tremendous, boundless and immeasurable magic of the north.

The Overwhelming Abundance of the South

The Antarctic, on the other hand, reveals its magic instantly. We began in Ushuaia on the southern tip of Argentina and faced a dramatic Drake Passage crossing with 37-foot waves. Even I — someone who never gets seasick — was grateful for meclizine. Today, travelers can skip the Drake and fly directly to Antarctica, but I consider the crossing a rite of passage. When you arrive by ship, you feel you’ve earned the right to step onto the seventh continent (at 5.5 million square miles, larger than both Europe and Australia).

And then the southern world explodes into life. We saw six penguin species: Gentoo, Chinstrap, Adélie, King, Macaroni, and Rockhopper. (Emperors are rarer.) Beaches, hills and ice cap were alive with thousands of penguins, including fuzzy brown King penguin chicks — the “Oakum Boys.” They waddled up to us, tilting their heads with an expression that unmistakably asked, “Are you my mom?”

Your experience depends on the season:

November–December: crisp snow, little mud, nesting adults — fewer chicks.

January–February: adorable, downy chicks everywhere — and yes, things can get muddy!

We cruised around sculptured icebergs by zodiacs, kayaked across mirror-smooth water, and watched seals nap on floating ice. On South Georgia Island and The Falklands — richer in wildlife than Antarctica itself — we visited enormous King penguin colonies, hiked a beach populated with hundreds of black browed albatross nesting birds,  and paid respects at Shackleton’s grave with a proper whisky toast.

We even witnessed a solar eclipse. And yes, I did the polar plunge. I’m glad I did it… once.

Why I Bring Travelers Here

The poles remind you how alive the world is — and how alive you are. In the North, you learn to wait for wonder. In the South, you learn to welcome it with open arms.

If this stirs something in you, I would be honored to help you plan your own polar journey. The magic is real — and it’s waiting for you.