Knee Deep in Antarctica... And Other Places

By Robert N. Jenkins

When Robert N. Jenkins was named the travel editor of the St. Petersburg Times in 1987, he was expected to report on the entire world, not just western central Florida. But Jenkins had no passport.
Which put him in the majority of Americans, as fewer than 5 percent of his countrymen then held a passport. The numbers are much higher now – about 36 percent – largely due to border-entry restrictions enacted after the terrorism of 9/11/01.

Still, that means fewer than two of every five Americans see the need to travel outside the country. What are they missing in what is, after all, the “global village’’ predicted as far back as Greek philosopher Diogenes.

In this book of articles from his travels beyond North America, Jenkins recounts revelations and insights he gained during his travels.

For instance, while he likens Prague to a buffet of sweets prepared by a doing relative, Jenkins recalls westernmost Ireland as notable for a countryside dotted by walls and beehive-shaped domes, all assembled centuries ago with stones but without mortar.

The author was struck by the bright glimmer that is downtown Stockholm, yet its large neighborhood dating to the Middle Ages bustles with an energy probably unknown when the area was new.

A different sort of contrast exists at the landmark Doge’s Palace in Venice: a façade so graceful it seems to be made of sugar candy, but within its walls are jail cells and torture chambers.

The author recounts that Thailand is “not one nation but two: There is Bangkok, and then there is all the rest of Thailand.
“The countryside boasts mist-shrouded, forested mountains and beaches framed by breathtaking scenery, but the capital is filthy and smoggy.’’ Bangkok’s tawdry PatPong district is a landmark of the world’s sex trade, countering the exquisite architecture of exotic temples.

Similarly, Jenkins’ articles juxtapose the manmade eye candy of the neon-colored houses of Burano, Italy, and the staggering, snow-clad vistas of Antarctica.

The theme of Knee-Deep in Antarctica ... and Other Places is that while the world’s populations may share a lot of everyday life, the differences are eye-opening, remarkable, perhaps enviable.

But, Jenkins says, you need to experience them in person. For those who have not, he serves a sample of them in this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert N. Jenkins
• Release date: Oct 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301989744

Robert N. Jenkins

Robert N. Jenkins, a native of Washington, D.C., earned a B.A. in journalism at Michigan State University and after working “up North’’ for four years, he moved to St. Petersburg, Fla., where he still lives.In a 39-year career at the Tampa Bay (formerly St. Petersburg) Times, he served as editor of national news, state news, features and, for 19 years, was the travel editor. His work in that job won 8 Lowell Thomas Travel Journalism Competition awards.Since taking a buyout, Bob has been a freelance writer. His work has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Toronto Star, San Francisco Chronicle, Dallas Morning News, Miami Herald, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, various AAA magazines, CruiseCritic.com, USAToday.com -- and in his former paper.

Book preview

Knee Deep in Antarctica

Robert N. Jenkins

~~~

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Robert N. Jenkins.

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Paradise At The End Of The World

Venice's History Of Tough Love

A Ferris Wheel For Boats

Where Singing Tops Drinking In Ireland

All That Glistens Just May Be Stockholm

An Exotic Land Of Smiles

Palatial Prague Can Overwhelm, But Then There’s Cesky Krumlov

Overwhelmed By The Industrial Revolution

Lost And Found In Jordan

A Place Celebrating Invention, Time And Courage

Through The Millennia, A Day At A Time

Ancient — But Lively — City

From Rural Beauty To The First Industrial Nation

To See Norway, Take The Train, The Bus, The Boat

What A Whimsical Prison

Greece's History And Beauty Converge In A Seaside Village

Prologue

THE LAST TIME I was in Europe, they were shooting at me,’’ said the 80-ish vet of World War II. I don’t see the need to go back now.’’

Another fellow, a retiree whom I met on a package tour of the southeastern U.S., told me with what sounded like patriotic pride, "America is a pretty big country, and I haven’t see all of it. So I have no interest in traveling overseas.’’

I previously had heard versions of their reasons for staying in North America. Decades ago I might even had shared at least the "see-the-USA-in-your-Chevrolet’’ sentiments of the second traveler: When my boss at the St. Petersburg Times made me the newspaper’s first fulltime travel editor, I didn’t have a passport.

Which put me in the majority, as fewer than 5 percent of Americans did, in the 1980s. The numbers are much higher now—about 36 percent—largely due to border-entry restrictions enacted after the terrorism of 9/11/01. Still, no more than two of every five Americans see the need to travel outside the country.

Why?

For a couple of decades after World War II, much of the world did revolve around the U.S. We had the economy, cultural ideas, technological advances, even the stable form of government other nations envied.

But those days are long gone. Canadian philosopher Marshall McLuhan proposed the ideas of the world as a "global village’’ and of all peoples belonging to one tribe. McLuhan said this was mainly due to the rapid spread of electronic communication -- anyone who wanted to could rapidly find out what much of what was happening elsewhere, sometimes even as it was happening due to wider use of television.

Other places began to more easily see, and copy, things first developed or designed in America. And, that became two-way traffic – remember "the British invasion’’ of rock stars? Even Elvis invited the Beatles to meet him in Los Angeles.

More recently, I have seen in a shop window in an Italian village a University of Florida baseball cap. In Stockholm, I have seen teenagers wearing T-shirts with nonsensical combinations of American words such as Beverly Hills Junior High Beauty School, letting the Swedish kids show how hip they are.

On a much more important scale, Americans long ago abandoned devotion to Detroit’s automotive production in favor of Japanese and European vehicles.

Some of what I found when I left North America is related in this book. Simply put, national populations around the world may share a lot of everyday life, but the differences between us are eye-opening, remarkable, perhaps enviable.

* * *

A note of acknowledgement and thanks: Many of these articles were first published by the Tampa Bay (formerly, St. Petersburg) Times. I truly appreciate the company’s generosity in allowing me to bring them before a different set of eyes.

Paradise At The End Of The World

WHEN THE waters are still and the sun is bright, Antarctica offers travel-poster panoramas.

THE ANTARCTIC PENINSULA—Exactly 22 hours after leaving Ushuaia, Argentina, which calls itself the end of the world, the expedition ship Fram reached the Southern Ocean, which circles Antarctica—the real end of the world.

The captain’s P.A. announcement interrupted the lecture on that frozen continent’s ecology, but the passengers cheered the news.

We were little more than halfway to our first trip ashore. That meant we might be facing another night and day like the first one—grabbing for corridor handrails or the backs of chairs to brace against the exaggerated rolling of the ship in what can be the planet’s most hostile 600 miles of sea.

But our progress also meant we were that much closer to a continent so massive that if you put the United States on top of Antarctica, there would be more than a million and a half square miles uncovered. Meanwhile, the U.S. would be sitting on ice more than a mile and a half thick.

We’d be landing in early summer—when the temperature would climb to freezing only one of our four days there.

We could barely wait.

Our patience was tested the next morning while still approaching: The ship motored into a mini-blizzard whose tiny snowflakes turned to sleet so thick the Fram seemed fogbound. The deck became slippery with snow.

But once the ship passed the storm and reached the islands off the Peninsula, the 122 passengers understood what Dorothy felt as she opened the farmhouse door:

We found ourselves under a brilliant blue sky in a majestic land, its horizons defined by mountains and perennial winter.

All around us were huge granite peaks whose jagged outlines were softened by thick coats of snowdrift. Icebergs glistened pearly white or an eerie neon turquoise, or both.

Occasionally, clangs and chungs sounded throughout the 373-foot-long ship as its hull plowed through drift ice, remnants of building-sized icebergs still within view.

We could see penguins leaping above the surface of the clear sea for fractions of a second before darting ahead, underwater.

The eight-day voyage had become an expedition. And on expeditions there are often surprises.

Being flexible

The Fram, of Norway’s Hurtigruten fleet, was built as an exploration ship to the north and south polar regions.

All stated times and activities are changeable due to weather conditions, or other circumstances out of our control, the daily agenda reminded passengers.

That’s why the captain slowed the Fram in order to trail three fin whales, on Day Three.

And that’s why the much-awaited scenic cruise in the eight-passenger landing boats was cancelled both on the night of Day Five and the following morning. As we swarmed the three observation decks to stare at a