The Best Shave of My Life

Well, I was paroled from Antarctica last night. Unfortunately, I left a little bit of me behind. No, I'm not talking about my sanity (I'm hoping that will eventually come back someday...) However, I did lose my iPod somewhere on a hiking trail at McMurdo. Oh well. It was only a Shuffle, and it was already a few years old. No penguins this time either. There were killer whales though, and I could hear them surfacing and blowing water out of their blow-holes while I was out hiking.

We got into Christchurch around 8 last night. Our flight was truly international. There were a bunch of Kiwis, some people from the Italian Antarctic program, and some seriously hardcore Russian guys. They lived up to the stereotype: One of them was so drunk he kept falling over on the flight and had to be picked up. Last I saw of him, he was laying on a pile of coats in the immigration line. Wonder if they let him into the country or not...

After some drinking last night, I woke up to a beautifully overcast drizzle today. Just smelling moisture has been amazing. After breakfast, I headed to get a much needed shave and a haircut. I went to this fancy place called the Groom Room. It was one of these wood-paneled British barbershops that looked like it belonged in Sweeney Todd. Totally unbelievable. The woman tipped the chair back and put hot towels on my face, gave me a massage, and then gave me an old-school straight-razor shave. Something only a guy can truly appreciate. She even offered to pluck the stray hairs on my eyebrows. Did I take her up on the offer? You'll just have to guess.

So now I have a few days here. I've got to finish writing my Correspondent's Diary for the Economist website (it's supposed to run the week of February 11th). Then off to meet Willoughby for some traveling!!