It’s the end of the world.
We’ve been here before though we’ve never been here. Both statements can be true when more than one place – be it a town or a city, a port or a signpost – claim to be the end of the world.
In South America, either Punta Arenas in Chile or Ushuaia in Argentina might lay claim, depending on whether your definition of a city is above or below 100,000 inhabitants. (We played it safe and visited both places; they were both beautiful so why haggle over the difference?)
As far as mainland New Zealand is concerned, its southernmost point is Slope Point. This small peninsula in Southland is the closest point to the South Pole. Which makes me wonder why we keep heading to so many closest points to the South Pole when we really ought to just head to Antarctica one day.
One day.
For now we drive through a private sheep farm, park our car at the end of the road and enjoy a lovely 20-minute walk to the cliffs, where there’s a signpost. (There’s always a signpost.)
How far we are from the Equator, from whence we came, and how far we are to the mythic South Pole. And then it’s done. It’s a bucket list sort of trek. Except no records and no titles can give meaning to deep, foaming sea and the fierce, tremulous winds and the dangerous, rocky coastline.
It’s a wondrous sight. It’s both invigorating and calming at the same time. It’s the end of the world.