03-03-2025, 04:03 AM
I wanted to scatter Dad’s ashes in Antarctica. It didn’t go as planned
гей порно парни
Dressed for the coldest conditions, I step out of the zodiac and place my feet on the White Continent for the first time.
I feel a little awkward, because I’m still finding my way in this Antarctic armor. I’m wearing four layers on top, including three jackets, all of their hoods over my head. Thick winter gloves cover my fingers. In my pocket is, of all things, a bag of ashes, which adds to the bulk. I can feel the bump it makes on the right side of my jacket as I bend over and secure my snowshoes.
I brought the bag because, like many travelers, I thought spreading Dad’s ashes somewhere special would be a nice tribute. This June will be 10 years since he died, and it would have been special to share this trip to Antarctica with him. Maybe a ceremonial offering, such as the spreading of his ashes, could suffice.
I’m prepared to spread the ashes on this very walk, amongst the icebergs, mountains, penguins and glacier blue ice. But, before we set off on the snowshoe, the guide gives a safety briefing that cools my jets.
Antarctica has strict regulations — nothing should touch the ground other than our boots. No sitting. No snow angels. No packs on the ground. Do not toss away food or pour out drinks. Under no circumstances should anything be left behind, he says.
When drawing up this dream ceremony, it never occurred to me to think about any rules or regulations surrounding the spreading of ashes. Turns out, not only do ash-scattering restrictions exist, but all around the world, there are specific rules about where and how you can spread them both on land and in the water.
гей порно парни
Dressed for the coldest conditions, I step out of the zodiac and place my feet on the White Continent for the first time.
I feel a little awkward, because I’m still finding my way in this Antarctic armor. I’m wearing four layers on top, including three jackets, all of their hoods over my head. Thick winter gloves cover my fingers. In my pocket is, of all things, a bag of ashes, which adds to the bulk. I can feel the bump it makes on the right side of my jacket as I bend over and secure my snowshoes.
I brought the bag because, like many travelers, I thought spreading Dad’s ashes somewhere special would be a nice tribute. This June will be 10 years since he died, and it would have been special to share this trip to Antarctica with him. Maybe a ceremonial offering, such as the spreading of his ashes, could suffice.
I’m prepared to spread the ashes on this very walk, amongst the icebergs, mountains, penguins and glacier blue ice. But, before we set off on the snowshoe, the guide gives a safety briefing that cools my jets.
Antarctica has strict regulations — nothing should touch the ground other than our boots. No sitting. No snow angels. No packs on the ground. Do not toss away food or pour out drinks. Under no circumstances should anything be left behind, he says.
When drawing up this dream ceremony, it never occurred to me to think about any rules or regulations surrounding the spreading of ashes. Turns out, not only do ash-scattering restrictions exist, but all around the world, there are specific rules about where and how you can spread them both on land and in the water.