Liz Schaffer 2/1/16 Liz Schaffer 2/1/16

Antarctica

Written for the fab folks at Need Supply Co.

It took journeying to the end of the earth, and a little beyond, to understand what I adored about travel. Surrounded by ice prone to glowing the most improbable shade of blue, penguins with a taste for wellingtons and whales who treated the waters of this snow-covered wonderland as their own private playground, it dawned on me; travel reminds us that, when removed from the reality of the everyday, we are part of something so much bigger. A natural landscape that dwarfs us, not only physically (it’s impossible to even consider notions of ‘big’ and ‘tall’ as you watch a glacier crumble into sea at Mikkelsen Harbour, a surge of water rising away from the point of impact) but mentally. All those worries, stresses and uncertainly, they mean nothing when you spy a landscape such as this.

Perhaps that’s what has always drawn the adventurous to Antarctica. Roald Amundsen and his epic adventure to the South Pole, the noble Scott, and Shackleton who had daring flowing through in his veins. Antarctica’s magic and power has not dissipated. Locations read like otherworldly realms Paradise Bay, Deception Island, Neptune’s Bellows and Elephant Point—calling now not only to the intrepid, but the fantastical too.

What has remained with me all these years later is not the immensity of Lemaire Channel (or Kodak Alley to those more film-inclined), a place where bergs are golden and the sea a mirror, but Pleneau Island — an iceberg graveyard. Here statuesque forms rise from the grey waters (some places just look better in stormy weather), assuming improbable shapes as they’re ravaged by the elements. Having travelled the oceans they arrive here to find there is nowhere left for them to venture. There are other sights too—the National Geographic Explorer making its solitary journey across the expanse or Brown Station, which is red despite the name and reveals how harrowing this great southern continent can be; the last Argentinian scientist who manned it opted to burn the building down rather then face yet another solitary year on the ice.

This is the land of penguins—be they Adelies, who compensate for their lack of grace with sheer determination building ‘penguin highways’ through the snow, Gentoos who have a penchant for stolen pebbles and the most curious of all, the stout Chinstraps. A place where the sun either refuses to set or rise and the sound of breaching whales is carried on the breeze. You feel small, but not insignificant, just acutely aware that this nirvana, this fickle friend, is always there, waiting to remind you of your place in the world.

Liz Schaffer 1/14/16 Liz Schaffer 1/14/16

Lodestars Anthology - Italy

With our Italy issue set to arrive back from the printers next week, we thought it would be grand to a) give you a little sneak peak of what lies within the magazine and b) let you know where copies can be ordered.

For UK, EU and US shoppers (and for Australian's who are reluctant to wait an extra two months) you can order copies from:

Newsstand.co.uk or Magpile

For more patient Aussies and New Zealanders there is the subscription service offered by

Hard To Find.

Just click on the above names and you shall be taken straight to the relevant site.

Of course if you have any questions or are after back issues don't hesitate to get in touch be emailing info@lodestarsanthology.co.uk and we'll lend a helping hand.

Liz Schaffer 7/28/15 Liz Schaffer 7/28/15

Going to Print

Issue 3, all about wonderful Australia, has gone to press. We spent most of Friday getting in the way at the printers (the rather lovely Taylor Brothers in Bristol) and snapping paper and ink. The magazine is now available to pre-order here and we can't wait to share it with you.

Liz Schaffer 5/22/15 Liz Schaffer 5/22/15

Urban Jungle

“I love New York, even though it isn't mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.”― Truman Capote

In the UK the long weekend is rapidly approaching and with it the desire escape, the need to run away somewhere wild and alive and ever-changing. For three days at least. And on that front, there really can be no place better than New York. A thriving metropolis flourishing across the Atlantic, it calls to the brave and curious, those with a love of art, history, shopping and all that excites. Land of bagels, subways, Grand Central and the high line, you arrive in search of brownstone, cupcakes and Scorsese and leave with an appreciation of hot dogs and Bethesda. Here's to Big Apple dreaming (and the Brooklyn Bridge of course).

“One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.” ― Tom Wolfe

Liz Schaffer 12/20/14 Liz Schaffer 12/20/14

Scotland

For the past few months we have been braving the elements and the dwindling daylight to explore Scotland, a wonderful country that's impossibly ancient, achingly beautiful and humbling in every possible way. A fickle friend when it comes to the weather and brimming with locals who take the notion of friendliness to a whole new level, it has been such a delight to get to know this place and its people. Below are just a few of the photos we've captured during our travels. For the complete set, the accompanying words, and a few illustrations you're going to have to wait until March when issue 2 of Lodestars Anthology is set to hit newsstands. Until then, enjoy the snaps, and, you know, invest in a shiny new copy of issue 1, all about glorious England.

Liz Schaffer 10/29/14 Liz Schaffer 10/29/14

Tour Mont Blanc

Passing through Italy, France and Switzerland and circling the mighty peak that is Mont Blanc, the aptly named Tour Mont Blanc is one of the world's great walks. Passing scenes capable of inducing wobbly knees, a mix alpine cottages, glacial remains, snow capped mountains and valleys that stretch into eternity, the walk, which takes a week to complete, is for those predisposed to wanderlust. Aided by a mule called Coco and fuelled by a diet of bread and cheese (the wine would prove too heavy to carry), my own venture around the mountain has been etched into my memory - the thick forests, mirror-like lakes and towns abandoned by time are not something you ever really forget.

Liz Schaffer 9/10/14 Liz Schaffer 9/10/14

Cornwall

In honour of the arrival of issue 1 (our baby is finally here), we thought it just right to share some of the blue sky pictures of Cornwall we captured while visiting earlier in the year. To read about our epic road trip around the Cornish Coast be sure to grab a copy of the mag (available here), for now, please bask in the Cornish brilliance. There’s a lot to love in the West Country.

Liz Schaffer 9/1/14 Liz Schaffer 9/1/14

Antarctica

some ice-covered corners of the world know how to get under your skin. Expansive and wild, Antarctica is a place where nothing exists but the moment. The rest of the world falls away and the urge to play Attenborough is un-suppressible. You’re guaranteed close encounters of the whale kind, a silence that’s only broken by calving glaciers and constant summer sunlight. Bliss really. Some Antarctic days are pure magic. Clear and calm, you’ll wake to an endless sky and mirror-like sea. Yet overcast days are not without their eerie charm. Low clouds and brooding skies have a remarkable ability to turn icebergs the most fluorescent shade of turquoise imaginable and prove that nowhere does desolation quite like Antarctica.

Uniquely stunning and a fickle friend (just ask Scott or Shackleton), this is a land where mountains move, history is defined by the brave and bizarre and you become besotted with the animals who call the world’s last true wilderness home. And the price of admission? Well, that’s surviving the Drake.

Sail Away

Antarctica is reached by travelling to the end of the world, otherwise known as Ushuaia at the tip of Argentina, and sailing for two days through the Drake Passage; the planet’s most turbulent body of water. While the dreaded mal de mer isn’t the ideal way to start or end a holiday it’s all part of the experience… I suppose. There are ways of dealing with this crossing. Firstly, avoid whistling, it’ll only call up the wind. Secondly, don’t bring a banana on board, unless you wish to rattle a superstitious crew. Thirdly, don’t shoot an albatross. And most importantly, pick a good ship.

I sailed on the Polar Pioneer. Homely rather than luxurious, this ice-strengthened vessel is Australian run but crewed by 22 Russians who remain onboard for a year. Once you learn that it began its life with a brief stint as a Cold War spy ship and the crew occasionally smokes their fish in the engine room, falling in love with this trusty vessel is inevitable.

Animal Encounters

Exceeding every expectation, Antarctica’s fearless wildlife has character aplenty. Stone-stealing Gentoo penguins (they’ve worked out that ‘borrowing’ stones from neighbouring nests is the easiest way to build their own) and wide-eyed Adelies make up for their lack of grace with loving determination. Creating ‘penguin highways’ in the snow that link their impossibly out of the way rookeries to the sea, these little guys waddle with purpose. All they want to do is belly flop into the water, despite an in-built fear of Leopard seals, to find food for their hungry, fluff covered chicks.

While penguin parental dedication is adorable, all sense of human normalcy is lost when a whale appears. Finding a humpback mother and calf sleeping on the surface of the water (rather appropriately termed logging) and watching as they wake, dive and re-emerge, barnacles and all, an arms length from your tiny zodiac is not an experience you quickly forget.

Although human visitors must stay at least five meters from all wildlife, no such rule applies to the wildlife itself. So, while you sit on a rocky beach, a safe five meters from a sun seeking Weddell seal, the only animal less graceful on land than a penguin, it won’t be long before a skua is nibbling your gumboot.

Temporary Visitors

Apart from the National Geographic Explorer, the only signs of human life are vibrantly painted research huts. Mixing nostalgia and wonder, historic sites like the British Port Lockroy must be seen to be believed. Set up during WWII to listen to German Navy radio signals, the station now studies the effects of tourism on penguins. The only problem is that penguins don’t quite understand the idea of a scientific control area, even if it’s roped off, or that they themselves might be the control. All four Port Lockroy residents rely on visiting ships for fresh supplies and showers and run a small museum and post office – when not counting penguin chicks. Anything mailed from here takes at least two months to reach its final destination; ferried to the Falkland Islands, flown to England and then braving the UK postal system.

Argentina’s Brown Station is equally fascinating. It’s unmanned due to a lack of funding and the fact that a previous resident chose to burn down a large part of it rather than spend another year alone on the ice. Bright orange and perfectly preserved, fire damage aside, it sits at the bottom of a huge, snow covered mountain. From the top you can take in the most photogenic panorama around - ice floes and rolling white icebergs – and brave the ultimate bum slide down (i.e. tobogganing without the aid of a toboggan).

Oh So Small

Antarctica is stunningly otherworldly. Even the safe havens along the Peninsula have names borrowed from fairy tales - Neptune’s Bellows, Deception Island, Paradise Bay, Elephant Point. Two weeks here and you’re left feeling delightfully insignificant. After all, in the presence of such great beauty it’s impossible to feel anything but small.

Entering Mikkelsen Harbour, with its amphitheater of ice cliffs, or sailing through the seven-mile-long Lemaire Chanel, affectionately called ‘Kodak Alley’ in the days when film cameras reigned supreme, you understand how powerful ice and reflective surfaces can be. For harsh beauty there’s Pleneau Island - an iceberg graveyard. With nowhere to travel and harassed by the elements, these bergs take on phenomenal shapes and hues, proving that nature is the ultimate sculptor. When greeted with such sights and stunned to the point of silence, it’s lovely to remember that all we have to do in this world is appreciate it.

But be warned. Feeling humbled like this makes you act a little irrationally. You’ll agree to the oddest things. Like camping on the Antarctic mainland, tentless and armed with nothing but a sleeping bag and dubious looking foam pad. Under a sky that never darkens you quickly learn that there’s no way to get completely comfortable on ice and the sound of distant avalanches and exhaling whales leads to odd dreams.

Filled with awe and a love of all things wild, you leave this continent lighter than when you arrived and yearning for adventure. You’ll talk to the animals, sleep when it’s sunny and consider applying for a four-month stint at Port Lockroy. Clearly Antarctica makes blissfully cold fools of us all.

Visit: Aurora Expeditions and their stoic Polar Pioneer sail to Antarctica throughout summer. I promise the Drake Passage is worth it! http://www.auroraexpeditions.com.au/

This article first appeared in Yen Magazine.