I hadn’t hiked enough to know whether I liked it or not. In theory, it sounded like something I would enjoy. The reality was being overheated by two layers of jackets, but with freezing hands and cold water running down my nose.
I don’t like hiking. I can safely say that now.
On a recent expedition to the Arctic Circle with Aurora Expeditions, we were able to witness the majesty of nature. The aforementioned hike was to the Eldborg Crater in Iceland’s Snaefellsnes National Park.
After about 4 muddy, rocky miles, I climbed the mountain to see… nothing. It was a crater, and like all beautiful things, it was ephemeral.
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I was out of breath, cold and sweating all at once, irritated at the thought of having to walk the same way back and grateful to feel dwarfed by everything around me.
Nature can make you feel small.
Often, the idea of going somewhere new or familiar is defined with the expectation of relaxing or having fun. It’s not always that we seek out the feeling of meaninglessness. But it’s a rewarding experience when you encounter it face to face.
Embarking on an expedition cruise can offer travelers a unique adventure that combines exploration with the stark beauty of one of the world’s last great wilderness areas. The journey provides an up-close encounter with the region’s unique wildlife, while onboard experts provide lectures on the fragile ecosystem and the need for conservation, offering a transformative journey that stays with travelers long after they return home.
The beauty of travel
As an avid ocean cruiser, I expected an expedition to meet similar standards of relaxation. As soon as I stepped aboard, I was dissuaded from that notion. This was an expedition with a capital E. The small group of people on board were in this together, so we were all gathered together for safety briefings and briefings—something I usually do at my leisure in my cabin during ocean cruises.
We also all wake up together, thanks to the morning intercom announcements, which are repeated throughout the day. Because it’s an expedition, the itineraries are more of a wish list than a concrete plan, so passengers receive updates on planned activities every morning and throughout the day.
It can be both daunting and empowering for a solo traveler to have a rigid schedule with up to 132 other people. You’ll be sharing meals and experiences with your fellow travelers, and it’s inevitable that you’ll feel a sense of camaraderie by the end of your first 12 days. After all, you’ve hiked nearly 4 miles in the rain together, helped each other avoid slipping in the mud, held each other up during bumpy Zodiac rides, and gasped in unison when you spotted whales just feet away.
Yet at the end of the hike, or the Zodiac ride, or whatever the day’s activity was, you have a moment to look up and see how small you really are. The cliffs, the rocks, the water, the wind, the rain, the sun, it’s all there as a reminder of your everlasting beauty.
And you can’t help but wonder: Why did it take me nearly 4,000 miles to realize this?
That’s the beauty of travel. The more places you visit, the more comparisons and similarities you find with home, and you realize that we are so small in this world, but we wield immense power to shape it.
A deadline seems small compared to the hundreds of years it takes for moss to grow on volcanic rocks. The email you haven’t responded to yet pales in comparison to the constant reminder to cover your face to protect it from the wind. And the sickening feeling of performance reviews pales in comparison to the constant need to check your footing so you don’t fall off a cliff.
Travel and nature can do that for us. They can make us feel small and free us from the stress we impose on ourselves. It’s one of those reminders that never registers when we hear it; you have to do the work of leaving home to really understand it. Expeditions combine the two.
No matter how busy your schedule is in a given week, it will still take almost ten years for moss to convert into soil. And that’s OK.
Eventually, trips and expeditions come to an end. Photos are a keepsake, but what stays with us are the feelings we experienced during the days we were away from home.
The reporter for this story was granted access to this event by Aurora Expeditions. USA TODAY maintains editorial control of the content.
