Call of the White

by Aston, Felicity

  My fingers were already stiff with cold as I carefully dialled my home number hoping that my boyfriend would answer. I tried to work out what the time would be in England but my brain refused to even make a start on the calculation. I forced the handset awkwardly between my hat and the fleecy neck gaiter that was pulled up over my nose. Straining against the noise of the wind and my own breathing I could just hear the ringing of a phone. There was silence as the phone was picked up and then I heard my own voice telling me there was no one home. I hardly recognised myself. The voice was cheerful, full of energy, warm. I left a message, aware that my words were drawled as my jaw struggled to operate in the numbing cold. I sniffed loudly as I thought for a second before ending the call. I wiped my nose on my glove, laughing at the irony of leaving a message on my own answerphone from the South Pole, before laboriously pressing the digits of my parents’ number at Crofton.

  The phone picked up instantly and as soon as I spoke my mum guessed the implication of the call. ‘Are you there? Are you at the South Pole?’ she asked in excitement. I described our arrival, aware that my dad had picked up an extension elsewhere in the house so that he could hear. ‘And how do you feel?’ she asked when I had finished. I paused for a moment and looked at my reflection in the silver sphere in front of me. I looked into my own eyes and noticed how tired I looked. ‘Now that it’s all over are you happy?’ she asked again. I searched for an answer, glancing around thoughtfully at the circle of flags and the endless blue above. What was it that I felt?

  ‘I don’t know,’ I answered honestly. ‘I really don’t know.’

  Epilogue

  Ripples into Waves

  Perhaps the reason I didn’t know how to feel when I arrived at the South Pole was that in many ways, completing the expedition was only the start of the challenge we had set ourselves. I had created the expedition in order to say something about what women are achieving around the world but also to make the point that there is a long way to go before all women enjoy the equality I have been fortunate enough to experience. Now that the team had made it to the South Pole, we were determined to apply ourselves to the task of sharing our story with as many people as possible.

  This was a mission that we were all eager to start but first we had to get home – and that proved to be more difficult than expected. Leaving Antarctica was easy enough, but half an inch of snow on the runway at London Heathrow left us stranded in Spain. We sprawled on the hard marble floors of the airport terminal in Madrid, counting the hours that passed without a flight and growing ever more desperate. An audience of 100 guests, including the Commonwealth Secretary-General, were due to arrive at the Commonwealth Club at 6 p.m. that evening to hear the team give a presentation about their experiences. As morning turned into afternoon the chances that we would make our own welcome-home event looked increasingly unlikely. In an act of stubbornly blind optimism I asked the team to write and practise their talks as we waited in the terminal, even as the latest batch of flights appeared on the information board followed by their status: DELAYED, DELAYED, CANCELLED.

  Our last hope was a 4 p.m. flight that would get us to Heathrow just an hour before we were due to be onstage in central London. The girls crowded around the gate, brandishing their passports menacingly as an inscrutable airline official tapped at her computer to determine the status of the flight. ‘The plane will go,’ she announced finally, handing us our boarding passes. We breathed a collective sigh of relief as we boarded the plane but it wasn’t until the aircraft was actually rumbling down the runway and we were airborne that I finally allowed myself to believe we were on our way.

  My family were waiting for us at Arrivals. They greeted the whole team like long-lost relatives, presenting each of us with a large helium balloon in our team colours. With the balloons tied to our wrists, and still excitedly hugging our hellos, we ran together from the airport terminal to the Heathrow Express which would take us directly into central London. Inside the subterranean station, the ticket clerk eyed us suspiciously as only a hardened Londoner can. Once we explained that we had just skied to the South Pole she treated us to an unexpected smile and a free upgrade to first class. ‘It’s the least I can do after what you girls have done. You are all amazing,’ she enthused, passing us the tickets. Mum produced her pièce de résistance as we took over the entire first class carriage on the train: a make-up bag bulging with cosmetics, some new vest tops to replace the ones we had been wearing for the last 48 hours, and a round of sandwiches for each of us. The carriage suddenly resembled a girly slumber party as we peered into pocket mirrors, passing on mascara and blusher to one another in an attempt to make ourselves look presentable.

  I rang Tim, who was already at the venue. ‘They’re all going into the auditorium now,’ he reported. I estimated that we were still half an hour away at least. ‘Don’t worry, the Commonwealth Secretary-General is giving a speech and I’ve asked him to string it out a bit. We’ll keep the audience busy until you get here.’

  We leapt off the train as it arrived and ran along the platform to the nearest exit where a line of black cabs sat waiting. Our frantic party filled two cabs, complete with seven large green balloons pressed against the windows. ‘We’re in a massive hurry,’ I called to the cab driver but I needn’t have worried. He seemed to relish the challenge and soon we were lurching from one side of the cab to the other, screeching through the backstreets of London.

  Grasping my mobile as I was flung around the taxi I called the venue and spoke to Kate, who was taking care of the expedition PR. ‘Tim’s just gone onstage to introduce you,’ she whispered down the phone from the back of the auditorium.

  I peered out of the window of the cab to see Admiralty Arch fly past at an alarming angle. ‘We’re in Trafalgar Square, we’re almost there.’ Finishing the call, Kate held up five fingers to poor Tim who had to fill five whole minutes on stage in front of 100 people. The two black cabs pulled up in front of the Commonwealth Club almost simultaneously. As we entered the building I could hear the applause which was our cue to go onstage. The auditorium doors were pulled open and we walked into the room, down the aisle dividing the audience – still trailing the green balloons tied to our wrists – and onto the stage.

  That night at the Commonwealth Club the team gave our first ever talk about our journey. Each member spoke about a different part of the expedition and I was struck by how confidently the girls engaged the audience and how eloquently they spoke, despite having no training or previous public speaking experience. They were brimful of enthusiasm, each word saturated with the emotion of our experiences. It was clear that the adventure had had a profound effect on us all but also that the girls were going to be able to communicate that strength of feeling to others in a meaningful way. Over the next couple of days as we sat on the BBC Breakfast red sofa and flew to New York to appear on the NBC Today show, the team were equally unfazed, taking all the attention in their stride and remaining focused on the task of reaching out to anyone willing to listen to our story.

  I had always hoped that there would be enough excitement surrounding the women’s achievement to provide each of them a platform when they returned to their own country but I don’t think any of us were ready for the level of celebrity that awaited them all when they returned to their home countries. Reena was completely overwhelmed by the mob of press, well-wishers and family that welcomed her at the airport when she returned to India, as she described to me in an email:

  Members of the press, radio and TV, folks from my neighbourhood, friends, family and many people from my husband’s home town, turned up with flowers and banners to receive me. There was also a band of traditional musicians. At my home a lot of women and children had gathered at the gates to greet me and I was accompanied by a procession all the way to my home, my neighbours sprinkling flowers on me on my arrival.

  I felt I needed to visit Darjeeling, since that was the place I grew up and I was invited to my old school, Loreto Convent, to give a
talk. I stood on the stage and was taken back to my school days. I used to watch my classmates and other girls going to the stage for debates and dramatics with awe, wondering when I would be able to do the same. Now I was a celebrity standing on the stage and talking about my experiences and inspiring the girls. I told them, ‘Education gives you wings. You can use it to do whatever you want to do in life. If you follow your dreams then there is great power in it.’

  Like Reena, Era too was met by a number of journalists when she arrived home and her story covered the front pages of the major newspapers in Brunei. Soon after, she was accorded the ultimate honour of a dinner which was attended by the Crown Princess of Brunei. But a greater joy was to come. Era is now expecting her first child. Nobody in the team was surprised when we heard the news. She had talked often in the tent during the expedition about starting a family. We may not have been surprised but of course we were all thrilled for her – in some way we all feel like distant aunties.

  Sophia was contacted by the president’s office soon after she returned to Singapore. The president was keen to arrange a dinner so that Sophia could relate her experience to him personally. She was shocked and humbled when a few days later he used her achievement as a rallying call to the whole nation in his speech to mark Chinese New Year, the most important speech in the president’s annual calendar.

  Kylie may not have been welcomed home by heads of state but her countrymen afforded her a uniquely Kiwi honour. After complaining during the expedition in her podcasts from the ice that she was craving marmite on toast, she arrived home to find parcels of marmite and bread piled up on her doorstep that had been sent from all over New Zealand by well-wishers who had followed the expedition. Kylie was delighted. Shortly after, the Sir Edmund Hillary Alpine Centre got in touch, asking Kylie to donate the skis and boots she used to reach the South Pole to their national exhibition. They will now be displayed alongside the ice axe used by Sir Edmund Hillary, an honour that makes us all proud.

  I heard from Kim shortly after our return. Her injury was healing well and the feeling had returned to her fingers. Surrounded by friends at home, she had found a way to cope with her disappointment. I emailed her the picture we had taken for her of the team at the South Pole – flying the Jamaican flag on her behalf, just as I had promised.

  As a team we have spoken to literally thousands of people about our adventure but have reached out to many more through media appearances, press articles and the web. As a result, the expedition has received a steady stream of emails from men and women who have been inspired by our story to make a decision in their own lives. It might be that they’ve decided to run a marathon, start a business, volunteer their skills to a cause or simply encourage someone else to achieve their dream. Whatever the decision, the fact that our actions have had such a direct impact on the lives of others and the choices they make is astounding. This is what I feel has been the real success of the expedition and our greatest achievement.

  At the South Pole my mum asked me ‘How do you feel? Are you happy?’ Thinking back over the expedition I’m still not sure how to answer that question. I feel pride. I feel pride in the girls and I feel pride in myself for pulling it all together – but am I happy? Am I finally content? That is a harder question to answer.

  When I was in my early teens a woman who had climbed Everest came to speak to our school. I don’t remember much about her talk except that she had once been told that there were two paths in life and that taking the harder path would always lead to greater fulfilment. There and then I decided that I would always seek out the ‘hard path’ and I think, more or less, that that is what I have done ever since. As I write, new ideas for new adventures are forming in my mind and being rolled around. If they don’t fade soon I’ll be forced to do something about them. So, you see, I’m already seeking the next ‘hard path’ and I have a suspicion that it might always be that way.

  Final Thanks

  During my original interview with the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust, I promised that the WCMT would always be acknowledged as the seed from which the rest of the expedition grew. I willingly fulfil that promise here. I received more support and encouragement from the trust than I could have ever hoped and I can’t thank them enough for their belief in me throughout (www.wcmt.org.uk).

  I also feel incredibly fortunate to have worked with Kaspersky Lab, a global giant that welcomed us into their close-knit and inspiring community. Kaspersky Lab were more than just our dream sponsor, they became partners in our ambition, and friends. Particular thanks to Harry Cheung, Suk Ling Gun, Maggie Yu, Roger Wilson, Jennifer Jewitt, Christine Gentile and, of course, the irrepressible Eugene Kaspersky.

  The expedition simply would not have been possible without the support of a number of key suppliers whose products and equipment saw us safely to Norway, New Zealand and the South Pole. Heartfelt thanks to Montane for the clothing; Iridium and Wright Satellite Connections for the airtime; Pilotur.dk for the watches; Hilleberg the Tentmaker for the Keron GT tents; Chocolate Fish for the Merino wool thermals; Ellis Brigham, Buffera, Mountain Equipment, Multimat, Leatherman, Rab, Applied Satellite Technology and Bloc for the specialised clothing and equipment; Fuizion Freeze Dried Foods, Healthspan, High5, Power Porridge and Herbalife for the nutrition products; Anteon for the ‘Louis Poo-uittons’; John Lewis for audio-visual equipment; Commonwealth Foundation, Visit Norway, DFDS Seaways, The Gordon Foundation, NSB, Hollock Waine Design, S. A. Brains and Wineaux for your services and support.

  We also wish to gratefully acknowledge generous assistance from Medcon Constructions Limites, Ministry of Justice and Public Order in Cyprus (National Machinery for Women’s Rights), Bank of Cyprus, Cyprus Computer Society, TSYS International, Caramondanis Group of Companies, Piraeus Bank, BPW Cyprus, (Louis Tours Ltd) Cyprus Airways, Tototheo Ltd, CYTA Cyprus, Komanetsi Fitness Center. Indian Mountaineering Foundation, Bajaj group. Technological University, Trailblazer Foundation Ltd, Singapore Sports Council, Singapore Sports Medicine Centre. BAG Networks, Bank Islam Brunei Darussalam, City Neon, Women’s Council (Brunei Darussalam), Royal Brunei Technical Services Ladies Club, Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports (Brunei Darussalam), Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade (Brunei Darussalam), Brunei Adventure and Recreation Association, Brunei Sports Medicine and Research Centre, Coach Rana and Dr Danish Zaheer.

  There have been many people who have gone out of their way to give generously of their time, energy and enthusiasm to help the expedition in any way they could. I cannot begin to express how much your involvement has meant to us, for your laughter and friendship, as much as for the practical support you have selflessly volunteered. I sadly cannot mention everyone here who has played a role but I would like to particularly thank Dr Kapo Simonian of Comtrack Services PLC who made the Norway training possible; Victoria Holdsworth for your dedicated championing of our project within the Commonwealth Secretariat and in the international media; Jim and Sarah Mayer for always being there, no matter how barmy the scheme; Jo Vellino for the laughter in Norway; Mark Priest for cheerfully accepting often bizarre or impossible jobs; Connie Potter for the scavenger hunt around London for Sesame Snaps and the endless rounds of phone calls; Paul Deegan for the no-nonsense motivation (and for calming me down before the launch!); Al and Elliott of Snowline Productions for working so hard on the expedition documentary; Kari Varberg Oydvin of Dyranut Fjellstove and her wonderful family for welcoming us to Norway; the snowplough drivers of Route E11 (I’m sorry we never learnt your names) for rescuing us on several occasions; Richard Woodhall of Mountain Equipment for your determination to find a way to help us; Rob Lewis of Mission Performance for introducing Red, Green and Blue to our team vocabulary; Dr Justin Roberts of Hertfordshire University for once again scaring us into action; Simon Meek and Anthony Slumbers of Estates Today for producing an awesome website; Danny, Joanna and Claire of the Royal Commonwealth Society; Phil H-B, Tori James, Chris Blessington and my lovely sister, Alex for the careful consideratio
n of dozens of application forms; Amit Roy; Sandra Bodestyne of the British Council in Singapore; Satyabrata Dam and Namita Dam; His Excellency Burchell Whiteman; the staff of the British Council in Delhi; Soren Braes of Pilotur.dk for being such a dedicated friend to the expedition; Justine Jones; Steve Jones of Antarctic Logistics and Expeditions for putting on your ‘friend hat’ so often; Tim Butcher of Montane for literally saving the day on numerous occasions; Guy Risdon for being such a great support over the years and for showing us the value of good gaffer tape; Robert Hollingworth for the photographs that we shall all treasure for ever; Tim Moss for all the long hours and late nights waiting for our phone calls from Antarctica; Kate Gedge for coping with the world’s press when you should have been enjoying Christmas – we are incredibly grateful; and Peter Martin for remaining unruffled by all the chaos I create (and for not telling me about the 360° slides along ice-covered Norwegian roads in the Land Rover). Finally to my wonderful parents, Jackie and Richard Aston, for allowing the expedition to take over their house so completely, for extending their hospitality so unforgettably to the team and for loving me despite the strife I bring. You are the reason I am free to do what I do.