Ive already said that, besides people, the thing I miss the most about living in Antarctica is the stars, and the night time in general (having so far only spent summer here). Two other things I miss are the rain (we’ve had some veeeery light rain, which was probably just sleet, but no serious rain drops) and sandy beaches (not surprisingly). While im not yet sure how I can add photos in to illustrate this, I thought I might take some time here to mention some other peculiar ‘things’ about living at Casey that people might otherwise take for granted.
(this photo is of no significance except to keep things remotely interesting for you)One thing I didn’t think about before I arrived is the distinct lack of insects. You know when you feel something on the back of your neck, or crawling up your leg and you have a little freak out: thinking it might be a killer ant or giant tarantula? Well it took me a while to get used to the fact that when I feel something like that here it’s NOT a tarantula, it’s probably just a hair or something. Likewise when you pick up an old bit of wood that’s been lying in the corner collecting dust, the first thing you do is check the back for the 15 red-backs that are poised and ready to pounce. Well, that isn’t something that enters my mind here past acknowledging the fact that it isn’t something that needs to enter my mind… figure that one out.
(Candy Boy and Pup: Everyone seems to get a nickname here, which is more of a trady thing than an Antarctic thing I think, but Sean somehow got Candy Boy, and I got Pup because im the youngster).We do however have a very small number of flies, which are concentrated in one particular section of the Redshed. One of our plumbers, Craig – of recent 6pm news stardom for an interview on the newly opened Hobart-Antarctica airlink which brought Peter Garrett to town – has the riveting job of counting how many are caught each month on our fly-catching pads (usually 7 to 10).
(Curley, aka Craig, and a weddell seal)
More that a month ago now I went for my first proper jolly to a nearby hut called “Jack’s donga”. It is situated on the moraine line with a brilliant view over the shallow waters of the Swain Island Group, where plenty of bergs seem to be grounded year round.
From Jack’s Donga and the moraine line the terrain drops away steeply towards the sea, where fast-ice (sea-ice that is still attached to the shoreline) is caught and stays for much of the summer. The result is that Jack’s has a great panoramic view of some pretty serious bergs.The road to Jack’s is littered with large patches of blue-ice, and roughly 10 degrees off-camber, so if the back of the quad were to swing out a little on the way what can one do but go with the flow?
Jack’s Donga is only some 15kms away from station, but when youre living thousands of kms from any other civilisation, I must say, being 15kms away from the comforts of the Redshed is quite a liberating experience. Spending the night here with one, two or three others is a great way to chill out and get some serious down-time. 
In fact, while doing exactly this, sitting on the rocks of the moraine line, I remember looking down toward the sea-ice below (almost one km away), and seeing a vanguard of around 30 Adelies marching across the ice. Slowly I saw them change their direction from cutting across our path to coming directly up the hill towards us. I don’t know how they saw us sitting there (maybe it had something to do with our fluoro yellow jackets), but from about 1 km away they changed direction, walked up a 40 degree slope straight to where an eager Todor was waiting with camera in hand, stayed for a few minutes to examine us, then walked another 20 meters, changed direction, and turned back to their original course. That’s quite a detour for an animal that doesn’t have knees. My point is theyre curious! 
Later, Todor (famous for taking more photos in one day than Ansel Adams took in a lifetime) told me that he had been watching them coming up the hill towards us through the eye of his 200mm lens when eventually he found all he could get in one frame was the eye of one penguin. He took the camera away and found it was only about 2 feet away, so out came the fish-eye. 
