Day 5: Entering the Arctic
Oct. 23rd, 2004 06:47 pmOf human foibles and failures
The Arctic circle is much like the equator: a purely human boundary about which people make a considerable fuss, although it has little meaning in the real world. The equator is, of course, the globe's widest point, equidistant from the poles, delimiter of northern and southern hemispheres - but if you're actually there, and I've crossed it several times, then it actually makes no perceptible difference. Near the equator, it's always hot – it doesn't get hotter the closer you get. Daybreak and nightfall come with almost unseemly haste – twilight is a short period. There is no summer or winter here, only rainy or dry seasons, with a short, roughly one-month, intermediate season of dust-storms – at least in my part of Africa. Allegedly, the water swirling out of a plughole move in different directions according to your hemisphere, due to the Earth's Coriolis forces – but do you actually know which way the water normally spirals out of your sink? Clockwise or widdershins? I don't, I have to say.
There are differences, but they're subtle and for the most part you'd only notice them if you lived there or stayed there for a significant part of the year.
The world's real barriers are less arbitrary but more affective: they make more actual difference. The Convergence, for example. Most people don't know what or where that is – I didn't myself until a few years ago, when I was informed by an enlightened and well-read girlfriend. It's a boundary in the southern oceans, separating the cold circumpolar currents of the Antarctic sea from the warmer ones of the northern oceans – as almost everywhere is northern from there. It's a formidable nautical blockade that has sunk many ships and killed many sailors.
And yet, apart from explorers of the last continent and round-the-world yachtsmen, who has heard of it?
So, really, it was foolish of me to expect some magical instant transition when we crossed the Arctic circle. I had vague notions of polar bears, icebergs and frozen wastelands.
Needless to say, perhaps, there was none of this.
( Read more... )
The Arctic circle is much like the equator: a purely human boundary about which people make a considerable fuss, although it has little meaning in the real world. The equator is, of course, the globe's widest point, equidistant from the poles, delimiter of northern and southern hemispheres - but if you're actually there, and I've crossed it several times, then it actually makes no perceptible difference. Near the equator, it's always hot – it doesn't get hotter the closer you get. Daybreak and nightfall come with almost unseemly haste – twilight is a short period. There is no summer or winter here, only rainy or dry seasons, with a short, roughly one-month, intermediate season of dust-storms – at least in my part of Africa. Allegedly, the water swirling out of a plughole move in different directions according to your hemisphere, due to the Earth's Coriolis forces – but do you actually know which way the water normally spirals out of your sink? Clockwise or widdershins? I don't, I have to say.
There are differences, but they're subtle and for the most part you'd only notice them if you lived there or stayed there for a significant part of the year.
The world's real barriers are less arbitrary but more affective: they make more actual difference. The Convergence, for example. Most people don't know what or where that is – I didn't myself until a few years ago, when I was informed by an enlightened and well-read girlfriend. It's a boundary in the southern oceans, separating the cold circumpolar currents of the Antarctic sea from the warmer ones of the northern oceans – as almost everywhere is northern from there. It's a formidable nautical blockade that has sunk many ships and killed many sailors.
And yet, apart from explorers of the last continent and round-the-world yachtsmen, who has heard of it?
So, really, it was foolish of me to expect some magical instant transition when we crossed the Arctic circle. I had vague notions of polar bears, icebergs and frozen wastelands.
Needless to say, perhaps, there was none of this.
( Read more... )