The Last Explorers 2

Thanks to James Camerons recent extraordinary journey to the bottom of the ocean, and other personal events, I felt the need to write a second part to my previous post - The Last Explorers.

Although I could have used a series of other excuses to justify continuing explaining my point about the declining of the spirit of exploration, it was a report on the BBCs website that got me all itchy. Journalist Rebecca Morell, on site in Guam, was doing an update right after Cameron had came back from the deepest place on Earth. The short interview featured on the web was so unprofessional, I asked myself if I had mistakenly switched to Fox News. The other voice in the clip, a man at the BBC studio, started by saying: This is supposed to be a bit of a race involving a team from Google and one sponsored by Richard Branson but it is over before it really begun hasnt it? Did anyone brief this person before he went on air?

The race to reach the bottom of the Mariana Trench has been on for years the last five mostly in secrecy. Tens of millions have been spent and three other teams have planned expeditions this year alone, DOER Marine, Virgin Oceanic and Triton Submarines. The race is not over before it begun, the race has been won! Morell continued, cordially, informing him that it had indeed been a race with a winner. She then told how Cameron wanted to inspire a new era of ocean exploration. The man reciprocated: It is a puzzling point though, if it has been done before because of a US navy team which reached the bottom of the Mariana trench 50 years ago, to what extent is it a pioneering dive that he has just completed ?. Seriously? If that was not enough, they concluded the segment by pointing out that: Some scientists question whether you actually need to have humans at the bottom to explore when you can do things like drop down underwater robots.

This should have been a walking on the moon moment with the entire world (and most importantly the entire exploration community) celebrating. If this is true that some scientists really question the need to Physically explore the unknown, shame on them! Why go to Mars if we can send a robot? Why meet and talk to people in the flesh if you can do it online? The other surprising fact was the almost total absence of two of the most legendary exploration clubs, the Royal Geographical Society and the Explorers Club. Founded in 1830, the RGS enshrines such famous names as Livingstone, Stanley, Scott, Shackleton, Hunt and Hillary. There was not a word about the expedition from them, not on their twitter site, nor their News site. The Explorers Club has members including the first man to reach the North and South Pole, the first to climb the summit of Mount Everest, and the first to step on the surface of the moon.

Captain Don Walsh, former Honorary Club President, who was part of the first manned expedition to the bottom of the Trench was actually onboard with Cameron for this historical feat. Sadly, the Club only tweeted little bits about this groundbreaking event, and nothing was written on their News/Bog site. A pity and shame for these institutions who have the responsibility of carrying on the flame of exploration. As many of you know, I am in the process of putting together a large expedition, a 6-year around the world sailing expedition, called E.P.I.C. Aboard two 35m aluminum hull sailing boats, with retractable keels, we will visit over 250 of the remotest islands in the world. Doing documentary film making, photography, conservation campaigns, and science projects, this endeavor is reminiscent of the Golden Age of maritime exploration.

The budget is obviously huge and the challenges seemingly impossible. The reactions I usually get could be summed up in three words: Really? Why? Good Luck! No worries, I do get my share of encouragements, but last week I received a couple of comments that reminded me why I was sacrificing everything to make this project of mine happen. The first one came from Prince Michael of Kent, whom I had the honour to meet in his office at Kensington Palace in London. Listening carefully to my presentation, his eyes opened up and I could see a glare in them. He looked at me and said: Finally! It is so refreshing to see that the real spirit of exploration, the one I grew up with, these big dreams of exploring the world, of not being afraid of leaving the comfort zone behind, do still exist. I am glad to know that the flame is not extinguished and is being carried on. Thank you.

The second comment came from Bill Vartorella, who is a fellow of both the Explorers Club and the Royal Geographical Society, and a member of the Overseas Press Club and Rotary. In his email, Mr. Vartorella said: This is a gutsy expedition that cuts to the heart of grand exploration tradition (something abandoned by some organisations, as per vote of membership several years ago, re: grants), while embracing high-tech, with the ocean as central theme/connective tissue to past and present. The intro and feel of your 30-page brochure are riveting. This is a great expedition! It is always difficult to explain why I want to commit the next 10 years to a project that seems impossible. It is hard to find people that get it! When I see projects like Cameron's journey to the ocean depths and when I get comments like those two last week, I am reminded that I am on the right track and that I don't always have to explain my reasons. I just have to listen to that little voice inside of me that tells me to keep on going, and to keep pushing the envelope.

One day, when I am on the boat, sailing the oceans like the great explorers of yesterday, all this hard work, all these days where I was left without a single penny, all this hardship, and all these days where I felt like abandoning the project, yet kept on going, to the disbelief of many, all this, will have been worth it. Because that is what these grand-scale expeditions are for, to remind us that everything is possible, that our dreams are never too big.

Why we do it

I sit here outside Nairobi, unpacking mentally and emotionally from another Secret Compass expedition. This time eight team members from the widest possible variety of backgrounds trekked and climbed in the remote bush of South Sudan, the world's newest country, before rafting for five days on an almost unexplored section of the mighty White Nile. That followed on the heels of 2011's three-week horse and yak trek to Lake Zorkul in far north-eastern Afghanistan, arguably the world's most notorious country. As I sort through the inevitable backlog of electronic missives from civilisation enquiring as to my success, health, or even continued existence on this earth, I am repeatedly asked the same question from my friends - why?

Why do I devote my spare time, spare funds, and considerable effort in planning and execution to taking off to some of the most remote, and ostensibly inhospitable, places on the planet? What's wrong with two weeks on the beach in Thailand anyway? When asked to explain his ambitions on Everest, Mallory replied Because it's there. True, but so is the Thai beach, and the answer doesn't explain why choose one over the other. Of course there is the enjoyment and excitement of the activity itself. A trek in the mountains, or a river raft trip, is worth the time, effort and money by itself.

But these things can be enjoyed in relatively civilised surroundings. We live in a world where everything is pre-selected, packaged and delivered neatly to our door on request. Our food, our entertainment, our travel, all available in easily consumable servings. Thanks to modern technology - Youtube, Facebook, any number of pay-TV channels - it seems as if every part of the world has been digitised, uploaded, voiced over and put to a cool soundtrack. We can download the e-book or buy the HD Blu-Ray disc. We can be sold these things - however we can't be sold the experience. Because these things are just impressions, copies, filtered through someone else's senses. The true experience of being there, seeing it and hearing it for ourselves can never be packaged.

We can only have that by undertaking the journey ourselves. Theodore Roosevelt said (amongst many things) The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; Secret Compass expeditions involve only a limited amount of face marring, but the sentiment rings exactly true. It is better to be in the arena - trail, mountain, river - ourselves than to watch from the sidelines while others do it for us. Our society also tends to package and provide to us our information and opinions. These opinions may not be exactly what we would have formed for ourselves if given the opportunity. Another advantage of an exploratory-style expedition is that it almost requires us to become informed about the region we visit, in more than a superficial, sound-bite way. We may not always be going where no-one has gone before, but we are treading the path less travelled. It requires more than a cursory effort to do the necessary research beforehand. One fact uncovered leads to another, a map here, an obscure blog there.

Before our boots wander across the landscape, our curiosity wanders across the available information (such as it may be). And once in country, our curiosity is only aroused even more; our knowledge is confirmed or corrected, our opinions reinforced or refuted. We look with different eyes if we think our views are pioneering too. The opportunity to acquire unique knowledge of a remote location is only half the story however. Once back in civilisation, with the dirt removed from clothes, hair and fingernails, we have the chance to share our new-found perspective with friends and colleagues, and anyone else who happens to enquire. The water-cooler conversation is significantly different if we've just returned from South Sudan rather than southern Spain.

But as much as anything we take part in these expeditions because it's in our nature to do so. We humans are natural explorers, natural adventurers. Watch a small child at play: everything they do is exploration, is a question of what and why and how. What's around this corner, what's behind that door? They are constantly pushing their own personal horizon outwards. As adults our sense of adventure gets lost in the noise of everyday living. Exploration isn't a part of our nature, it is our nature.

This article was originally published on the website of Secret Compass, who ran the mentioned expeditions to Afghanistan's Wakhan corridor and South Sudan. I'm uploading it here in response to Explorers Connect's recently posted question Why do we explore?."

Lessons learned. Things that can go wrong on a 1140km triathlon!

I am passionate about life, learning and travelling, hence my lifestyle has always been very creative: finding ways to combine work, challenge and 'something new' I went from studying Biochemistry in Australia over being a journalist for a German newspaper to working at the BBC studios in London - oh yes, I dipped into the corporate world once or twice as well.

I realised that I would never fit 'one' job-description and decided it was time to filter-out the elements that are making my day and a difference in my life. The result: discovery, endurance, outdoor and learning by doing the idea of simply being an adventurer was born. Besides coming up with random adventures such as walking the Grand-Union Canal from Birmingham as far as I could get with a couple of pounds in my pocket, I made it my quest last year to create an adventure within 29 days including sponsorship: Mission Spain was born, cycling 4000km solo around Spain as free-cycle courier learning fluent Spanish on the way. What followed was the urge to digest of what happened and actually remind myself of 'the how' I made it happen. I self-published the book:

Don't just talk, do it first draft written in 30 days, another 30 days to get it up online. I was stunned about the evolution of a simple idea to the actual creation of an amazing life-changing project including the people and teams you build around you during this time. Knowing what I loved I was unstoppable to come up with the next idea: How to prepare better for a half-ironman than being adventurous and discovering new territories cultures at the same time? With this my Three Border Triathlon was born, a solo triathlon crossing 3 countries in just a month and a bit: 680km across Switzerland by bike, over 200km swimming along the Danube in Germany, finishing off with a 260km run traversing Austria. It took me a month to come up with the concept, another one to develop and organise it to then actually do it. The initial idea looked different: 550km swimming along the Danube and running 320km across Austria what went wrong? Let's have a look of what I have done? What went wrong and how I would do it differently next time? This can be useful for your adventure to prevent some good learning-mistakes Equipment transport: Bike Leg 1. Don't rely on the post-office I first went by bike, starting out from Geneva. All the equipment for my individual legs was packed in my rear panniers, such as the triathlon wetsuit, one pair of running shoes and other things I would need.

Everything except one item my lightweight tent. What went wrong here? I agreed with a friend in London that he would sponsor my 1.7kg Jack Wolfskin Gossamer tent (you know the lighter, the better). I had 10 days in Geneva before starting the journey. He bought the tent in London and sent it over via royal mail. It never arrived for some reason it was stuck in Zurich. One day before I was due to start, still nothing and no explanation from the post-office what happened: was it lost? Not allowed to pass? Or already been sent back? Only assumptions, no clear answers and no one in charge to solve this matter. The last thing you like to deal on your adventure is time-/energy-wasting administration. As there are not many good outdoor ships in Geneva, I couldn't even buy a tent with blowing my budget I was lucky that I had the chance to borrow one: instead of my expected 1.7kg lightweight tent I was now carrying a tent that weighed 3.7kg. Not good. I later bought the right one myself and spent money that was not accounted for. Lesson learned: Don't rely on the post (even if someone tells you the amount of time it will take) make sure you have the main equipment ready. Or check the stores you are travelling to and reserve the equipment you require to prevent extra costs, time-delay or simply giving up the control over your journey.

Equipment back-up: 2. When the equipment gives in I trusted that one set of equipment would do the job. So I had only one pair of running-shoes and one wetsuit. I had faith in the quality and did not even consider back-ups. What happened?: Have you ever swam 200km in a river on successive days?Before my last adventure, me neither and I think equipment companies don't test their items up to this endurance. For some reason my wetsuit became more porous with every day and more susceptible towards nail bits until it ripped trying to glue it did not work really. I was standing there with no back-up. Buying another one cost a hell of a lot. I had a great sponsor who sent out a second one, it only took days until it arrived cause it was coming from the US. I also had a bright buoy that not only kept my daily supplies dry but also acted as security hook just in case. After more than 10 days, it ripped my food and camera equipment soaked. For the run I thought one pair of shoes would do, everything was fine up to KM 240, then all of the sudden my Achilles were swelling, running turned into walking and walking into hopping.

The intended 320km across Austria turned to 260km. It changes your adventure completely if you trust on equipment that has not been tested under this circumstances. Lesson learned: There are two things I have learned 1. Evaluate the dependence on the set of equipment you take with you and see if you have the budget to buy yourself a second one if things go wrong. I was dependent on the wetsuit to keep away the cold and as for the safety swimmer to provide security during my solo swim-stages. Agree on a potential back-up with your sponsor or have two pairs. 2. When it comes to sports and you do something you have never done before, such as myself doing a 260km run, keep in mind that items such as shoes can cause a repetitive frictions on your muscles or ligaments see that you have two different pairs to reduce this as they will surrounds your body in a different way. Sponsors 2. Make sure you have a set agreement with your sponsor I was very lucky to have a Sponsor for the bike on board. I picked it up in Geneva and we agreed that once I would hit the Swiss border to send it back via train. No problem. He even provided me with a train ticket that you have to show at the station so they assume that you are going back as well and will pick up your bike from the train storage.

What happened? The train station did not allow to leave the rear panniers on the bike, nor the helmet. So I had to send them back via mail additional costs. Also in order for the station to take the bike you have to pay a small fee as well. Mentioning this to the sponsor he simply said it was my duty to pay for it. Ups. Lesson learned: I don't like unexpected costs on my adventure as everything is budgeted. Make an agreement with your sponsor if logistics are involved that he is taking over any unexpected costs that require the equipment to transport from A to B. It was not much that I had to pay but you know if you are on a longer trip, every penny you spent more is a penny spent less on food or things that might be necessary. If he disagrees from the start at least you know that a little buffer is required in this area, just in case. Independence 3. Don't give up control. I was very lucky that one day before I started my swim-leg, a local radio station sent me an email, saying: 'One of our reporters is going to accompany you'.

My first response: Great. My second one: Can I put my luggage in his car? The intention was to carry my luggage in a 80L dry-bag around my ankle while swimming the river. I tried it out, but when I got the offer from the station, I was just thinking of how to conquer the swim so if I can make it easier, why not taking the opportunity. What went wrong? The radio station said they would be with me up to a certain town. Great. It only happened that short-noticed their plans changed, and it turned into 10 days. So I was missing the logistics to transport my luggage up to the point they mentioned.

The weather was unusual cold for May, and it was a hardship to convince myself to step into this cold water, day after day to tick of the 20km stages. You spent the time and energy looking after yourself to be ready for the next day listening to your body to keep out of the danger zone, such as hypothermia. I had given up the organisational side of the project, got used to it and wasn't ready for plan B when it happened. I did manage on a daily basis, but it simply added 'stress' and organisation to actually doing the challenge. Lesson learned: If you are offered company to support you on the project, make sure you are prepared to take over it yourself again at any point. As for media, it is invaluable to have them on board, capturing your adventure in amazing perspectives and helping you to spread the word just make sure that they don't become involved in other aspects of your journey, such as equipment transport. Only if you have made a set agreement. Team 4. Have a team you can count on Before I started the journey I contacted all the canoe clubs along the Danube to look-out for support. It was great how many replied and offered their help for a day or two. I nearly had all the distance covered it gave me back-up for my luggage transport in case I had problems with pulling my equipment behind me.

What went wrong? 1. Don't underestimate how exhausting it can be to arrange and introduce new team-members on a daily or weekly basis. I thought it would be great to have different people for different stages on board, I simply made it too flexible, trying to hold everything together simply put me under pressure to arrive at certain points in a certain time. 2. I didn't know the people beforehand and for me it was a bonus to have someone on board. It turned out that some decided short-noticed to pull out, such as sending me an SMS at 11pm leaving me behind to sort out the next bit. It was a volunteering team not a set support team, there is a difference. 3. When people are involved that don't understand the adventure, it can be quiet irritating if they recommend you to stop and keep mentioning what is not working or bombard you with negative input. You know what you are doing, and you know that it can be tough you don't need someone put doubts in your head and actually recommending to stop.

It drains and most of all if you are exposed to hardship you are more sensitive and even may think about it. Lesson learned: I have learned that there is a difference with having extra people on board or having a good support team that stays with you. If you are in a medium you cannot escape, such as cold water and have dependence on aspects like luggage transport you need a set team to support you with and things you can delegate to, so you can keep the focus on the challenge. Next time I am out with a bunch of people that are going to support me and I have not really spent a lot of time with them beforehand, I will make the agreement that there is no room for negative advice, such as giving up. It's always your own choice. 

This adventure has been a great learning curve, I combined three different things without having tested them individually and thought that a preparation time of 30 days similar to Mission Spain would do. I had to realize that adventures have a different dynamic, different dependence and different requirements, so it is good to keep this in mind when preparing the next one.

If you have more specific questions, ideas or like to give your feedback just comment below or visit me on my site: www.nadinehorn.com

Written by Nadine Horn

Turning back on a mountain, the toughest decision

Turning back on a mountain the toughest decision When you announce to the world you are off to climb a mountain its pretty much assumed that you will summit; not only by the people you tell, but also by yourself.

You certainly depart for your trip with the intention of reaching the top. But what happens when things get tricky and you are faced with the choice is it time to turn back? The wrong decision could cost you your life. Reaching the summit worth dying for? Maisie Hayman talks to Squash Falconer who is no stranger to climbing mountains. In fact shes climbed a few. In 2008 she climbed Cho Oyu, only 600m lower than Mt Everest and bum boarded back down. An interesting achievement that demonstrates Squashs ability to design unique adventures! In 2009 she rode her BMW motorbike to the foot of Mt Blanc, reached the top and leapt off with her paraglider becoming the first British woman to do so.

Then last year she summited Mt Everest where she celebrated her 30th birthday. Not every trip has gone exactly to plan though. Here Squash explains her thoughts on turning back, the time she had to make the call and her surprise reaction to the outcome. How and when did you get into mountaineering? I was 23 when I climbed my first mountain, Aconcagua in Argentina. A group of friends who I did endurance adventure races with were off to climb it and I wanted to go too. So I did! When you first began climbing mountains what were your thoughts on reaching the top?

I knew that making the summit wasn't guaranteed. In fact I knew that often on big mountains the odds are against you and for reasons that you sometimes have no control over like the weather. I also knew there were reasons that I did have control over, like fitness, and so I went in the best shape I could be in for the climb. Looking back even knowing that a summit wasn't a given I did assume I would get there, or rather I didn't spend much time thinking I might not. I was going to climb Aconcagua, there was an itinerary for the climb with several possible summit attempts and Id be back after that, after Id reached the summit. I did reach the summit as I had intended; therefore nothing was learnt about turning back on that trip. Have you ever had to turn back on a mountain? What happened? Yes. The next mountain I climbed, where I was attempting to be the first British woman to snowboard from the top. Mustagata in China a 7,500m peak.

It was a month long expedition and just two weeks into the climb after lots of bonding had been done between team mates (some of us had been strangers at the start of the expedition) there was a terribly awful and sad death. Jonathan Peacock, a very fit and able 39yr old died. At the time signs pointed to altitude sickness (we later found out it was a DVT) but that obviously brought the reality of mountaineering and what can happen to the forefront of our minds. After Jonathan's death we spent time considering whether we would even continue the expedition. Death on mountains certainly wasn't something I'd considered too much either and it highlighted many things to think about, including turning back and not reaching the summit. Was this something I was prepared to do and how would I make that call? Losing Jonathan was the toughest thing I've ever had to deal with on a trip and it made me very sure about one thing - I wanted to return from the mountains I climbed.

I would do all I could within the circumstances that I was exposing myself to to reduce the risks where it was in my control to do so. We made the decision to continue this expedition and for the first time I thought long and hard about making the top or not. The most common thought about getting to the summit is that you are there. In fact you are not there. You are halfway there. It is vital to remember you still have to get back down and after a tough climb to the top this can be the hardest part. For this reason a plan is often made on mountains to have a turnaround time the time at which you abandon your summit push and head back down. NO MATTER WHAT. On Mustagata, with less than 200m to the top, we reached this critical time. As a team we had discussed and set the turn around time and as a team we turned back. Was it difficult to turn back? Surprisingly no! If you had of asked me before I actually had to turn back how I would have coped with turning back I would have said that I couldnt imagine doing that - I think I would probably have felt as if I had failed and it would have been awful.

After Jonathans death I knew that I didn't want to die and I wanted to be as safe as I could be on the mountain. When we reached the turnaround time I just knew that the best move I could make was a 180 turnaround and getting back down was now the priority. What did turning back teach you? I was surprised turning around had been so easy, but I realised that the expedition had been amazing. I still had the experience of climbing the mountain, of being in that part of China. I'd still gone through all the things you go through to get there in the first place: the training, the preparation, the anticipation. Id been through more emotion than I thought possible on such a trip, Id been higher than Id ever been before and I was one of the first British woman to snowboard on the mountain. It didn't matter that it hadn't been from the top. What mattered was that I was going home. Back to all the people I loved and who loved me. More than anything I learnt that the success of climbing a mountain is measured by getting back down, that reaching the top is only a very small part of the trip and that there's so much more to mountains than the summit. How did not reaching the top on this mountain affect your next climbs? In a way I suppose it took the pressure off. I still went with the intention to summit but I knew that I would be ok if I didn't and I knew that it would still be an amazing trip if I didn't. I think it also made me safer, I trusted myself more, I went with the knowledge that I had it in me to make the right call and I had no issues with turning back. Summit fever (when people try to reach the top no matter what) is a very real issue in mountaineering and people kill themselves because they don't turn back.

I absolutely knew I could turn back. What advice would you give to other people who climb, about reaching the top? I think there are two main areas Id suggest are worth thinking about: Are you prepared to turn back and do you know when to turn back? Mentally any climber should be prepared to turn back, think it through and realise that the top isn't everything. Obviously it can be important and the intention to reach the top is there but the biggest priority should always be getting back down. Being at the top is only half way there - do you know when you are half way exhausted?

Physically, mentally and emotionally where are your limits? I believe we can use practical things like a turnaround time to keep us safe but there's nothing quite like experience to know honestly: who you are, how you are and where your limits are. I do believe that someone with no experience of mountaineering can climb Mt Everest. I also believe that they are the most likely candidates for not returning. I learnt the most important lessons Id ever learnt on mountains when I didn't summit Mustagata. These lessons were valuable to me when I climbed again but also in life in general this is a bit cliche but Its most definitely about the journey and not all about the destination.

For more info www.squashfalconer.com"

The fear of fear. Our greatest challenge?

We are all terrified of fear. Is this our biggest challenge? Fear is one of the most natural human emotions. You might argue it is our most important survival instinct. Yet the problem most of us have is that, when it comes to fear, we are terrified of it. While it affects us all in different ways, and will be triggered by different things, it is the fear of fear is the biggest barrier to progress in any extreme sport.

If you are reading this post, you probably remember the first time you got the fear. We have all been there, consumed by fear, beaten off a climb, dropping out of a drop in or whatever else. Body like a lead weight, mind malfunctioning, any illusions of style or technique safely out the window. It is all you can do to scrabble desperately to the end, or retreat to safety. For me it first struck cliff climbing in Cornwall, on the hardest trad route I had done to date, but well within my physical capabilities. Back on safe ground I couldn't help but look back with frustration at being beaten, and being a competitive sole, a touch of humiliation how did he not get overcome by that?

I am sure this if familiar for a lot of us. The question is, what is next? For many that first dose of fear is enough to convince them, consciously or not, to retreat to the safety of a relative comfort zone. The fear of fear has won. Pushing your limits becomes a forgotten dream. I, like a lot of others, resolved to overcome it. I convinced myself it was because I was not properly in the zone, or because I hadn't trained enough to be totally confident in that situation. These are all partly true. So I worked on them, ready to return fitter and stronger, both physically and mentally. Still sound familiar? Yet somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, the seeds of doubt have been set.

You may not realise it at the time (I didn't), but you are now up against the biggest test you will face. A fear of fear is constantly building inside you. Will fear consume you again, or will you be able to push through - recognise it, embrace it, and use it to your advantage? It is over the next few months that the real battle is won or lost. Let fear get the upper hand again anytime soon, and it probably wont be long before you too are settling back more consistently into your comfort zone, the fear of fear ever heavy on your tense shoulders. The few who get through this period, finding themselves able to maintain pure concentration and embrace the element of fear that comes with the territory will have unlocked the door.

They will be the ones you see performing at a level most of us, having let a fear of fear hold us back, can only dream of. I, in case you hadn't guessed, have so far found the fear of fear an impossible hurdle to overcome when it comes to climbing. I've had to watch in envy as my climbing partners go to places that are way beyond what my mind will let me do. Yet stick me on skis and I will give anything a go. Explain that?

Alex is founder of Much Better Adventures, the place to find local, independent and ethical adventure companies, guides and instructors around the world."

The Last Explorers

That is the exploration that awaits you! Not mapping stars and studying nebula, but charting the unknown possibilities of existence. Leonard Spock Nimoy A new show on BBC has left me with a sour feeling.

It is not really that the show is bad, or that the host is annoying. It is not that the topic is stupid nor that the episodes are not interesting. It is rather the title that is raising a red flag in my unconscious explorer mind. Neil Olivers new show The Last Explorers tags itself as a series on the golden age of exploration, charting the routes of contact that drew together the farthest reaches of the world. They could have called the show The First Explorers, The Great Explorers, or simply The Golden Age of Exploration. Instead they chose to epitomize these men as the last of their kind, placing them in the same category as any other extinct species. Unfortunately, and sadly, that knot in my stomach, that needle in my brain, is there because I sadly agree with this statement. A little bit more than a year ago, I attended the Royal Geographical Societys Explore weekend and was enchanted by the speech of Arita Baaijens. As she described her journey through the desert with its violent sand storms, she concluded with one of the most sincere and refreshing types of advice I had heard in a very long time: theres a tendency to cover up expeditions and journeys with noble aims. Either to attract sponsors or to give the expedition a sexy or good feel.

But most first timers GO without knowing why they want to follow the Amazon River or reach the North Pole, or cross the biggest desert. Its an inner drive, and its quite a normal thing to do that is why there are so many legends, myths, fairy tales about the Journey of the Hero (Joseph Campbell). Young people want to test their strength, find out who they are, and what their place in he world is. Those journeys are directed towards your inner world, about WHO am I and WHAT is my place in the world, see Tomsons words. And when you have learned more about yourself, your motives, your prejudices and opinions, your place in the world, you are better equipped for another type of expedition, journeys of discovery directed towards the outside world, characterized by WHY HOW.

I think what The Last Explorers means is that the spirit of exploration has changed tremendously in the last decades, and for some, including myself, it is more of a loss than a gain. And nothing could be more evident to support this fact, than what is happening at the Explorers Club in New York at this moment. During my first visit to this historical club with legendary members such as Roald Amundsen, Sir Edmund Hillary, and Neil Armstrong, I was struck with disbelief when at the entrance to the main saloon, I saw a scale model of the ultra luxurious cruise ship The World. Was I at the right place? In the right building? Or had I mistakenly entered an Upper East Side travel agency for wealthy retirees? The latest events that have unfolded in the media seem to be zeroing in precisely on this existential issue. What is exploration? On one side are the New School Explorers, to whom exploration is a blend of commercial adventures surrounded by rich people that can pay their way. R.L. (his name is obviously not revealed) precisely embodies this new genre. He is a hedge fund manager from London who made good money and now can afford to collect exploration badges, making him an explorer. The man, who is more at home in Michelin star restaurants then in a bivouac, pays ridiculous sums to be taken into the wilderness by experts, then claiming the credit for himself. His latest adventure was in Antarctica, where he dished out close to 100,000 to get up and supposedly baptised an unnamed peak (needless to say, with a lot of help). His brashness goes so far, that he now gives talks to children on how to be an explorer! For this type of person, the Club is doing really well, befitting these modern times.

The Clubs supporters defend their position by illustrating how the revenues have increased by adding new members like him money much needed to renovate the crumbling building, suitably located between Madison and Park streets, on the chic Upper East Side, rather than funding new, real adventures. On the other side are the Old School Explorers, who care more about the Spirit of Exploration It is not what you do, but how and why you do it. The debate is surprisingly similar to what went on in the wine industry old world wines which were generally subtle and complex, versus the new world wines, usually described as bold, sweet, simple, and with great emphasis on the packaging. At the end of the line, the core of the issue, whether it is exploration or food, is quite the same: Quality versus Quantity. Local or Global? Small or Big? Does exploration have a Spirit or is it an industry? And if it is an industry, then how can we commercialise it, make it grow and become more profitable? Herein lies the core of the question: Is bigger really better?

Which brings me back to Aritas statement. Present day exploration could be divided into three categories: A rich pastime A personal ego-trip the desire to break a record or make an environmental statement A vague, virtual idea of discovering the planet from behind ones computer (see Nature is not in your computer). It is no longer about wanting to disconnect from overbearing city-life to experience the unknown. It is no more about wanting to escape the crazy modern world to seek true, pristine wilderness. It is no more about a journey to discovering your inner self. What it is today, is a business! The magic of new discoveries has given place to self-centred claims of saving the planet.

I explore because for me, the world makes more sense out there, than here. I explore because nature humbles me. I explore because it reminds me that there is something bigger in life, something sacred and mysterious. I explore because it makes me a better person. And, I really wish we would hear the same narrative from other explorers more often. I just hope I am not part of a dying species! The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Marcel Proust By Daniel Fox.