Santa arrived, pulled on his magic orange sleigh, pulled by a single reindeer (ok, maybe some imagination required).

Our Christmas tree is an elegant ice spire, circled by climbing ropes, festooned with glacial marking wands and a balloon or two.

Vinson’s summit stands out far above, a hint of wind but not yet enough to clear the ice fog away. So we celebrate Christmas on the ice, with one Australian commenting ‘hey, It’s good, I’ve never had a white Christmas!’