In Part One, “The Christmas They Cancelled for Antarctica”, I spoke with Madeline Lu, a self-taught freelance photographer and social media creative. She told me about a decision that still sounds slightly unreal on paper: trading a traditional Christmas at home for an expedition voyage to Antarctica with her husband, Alexander, and their teenagers, Eva and Samuel. The question at the heart of it was simple: what does it mean to take Christmas to the edge of ordinary?
If you are arriving here first, “The Christmas They Cancelled for Antarctica” is the best place to start. Madeline tells the story from a parent’s point of view, from the moment “Christmas in Antarctica” itinerary appeared on a screen to the practical reality of booking the voyage and letting go of the usual December rituals.
This is Part Two, and the perspective shifts.
Not because the teenager’s version is a novelty, but because it is increasingly the point. Family travel is changing. A growing number of parents are no longer planning for their children so much as planning with them. The industry has started calling it kidfluence: children and teens acting as genuine co-pilots in family travel decisions, from the destination to the flow of the trip: what’s non-negotiable, what gets skipped, and how everyone feels while it’s happening.
That is the macro story. The Lu family is the micro one, and Antarctica is an unusually clear test case. Because when the destination is this extreme, it is almost impossible for teenagers to be passive passengers. They either buy into it, or they do not.
After the family returned, I followed up with Eva with questions. What came back was a clear-eyed, unfiltered account of Antarctica at sixteen: the boredom and relief of being offline, the strange feeling of Christmas without nightfall, the reality of the Drake Passage, and the small details you only notice when you are not trying to turn the trip into a highlight reel.
So let’s start where family travel often starts now: with the teenager’s vote.
What Eva expected Antarctica to be
Wahyu Kelsall: When you first heard “Antarctica” mentioned at home, what did you picture?
Eva Lu: A white wasteland. An exclusive part of the world where all there was was the whistling wind and endless kilometres of snow and ice, with the white and black huddles of penguins.
It is a clean, cinematic image of Antarctica, a destination as a concept rather than a place.
Wahyu Kelsall: Before you went, did you feel like you had a say in the trip, or did it feel like a parent decision you were brought into?
Eva Lu: I was excited for it. We’re quite an adventurous family, and Antarctica has been on our bucket list for a long time.
There it is, quietly. Not a teenager being dragged along, but a teenager already invested.
Wahyu Kelsall: What did you know about the continent before going, and what surprised you most once you were there?
Eva Lu: I knew the small tidbits: it was the coldest, windiest, and highest desert. I was immediately surprised by the vibrancy. The electric blue of the ice, the pungent smell of the penguins (along with their noise), and the cliffs scattered with greens and oranges.
Eva does not soften the edges. Antarctica, in her telling, is not only beautiful. It is loud in the wrong moments, it smells like wildlife, and it has colour you do not expect until you see it.
Wahyu Kelsall: What does travel mean to you right now?
Eva Lu: An escape from the usual routine of school. Essentially it’s the ultimate perspective shift, from taking the same trains and buses every day, seeing the same lake, to unique environments and cultures.
Eva measures a trip less by how impressive it sounds and more by how far it pulls you from your usual life, and how differently you see things afterwards.
Christmas, without the usual cues
Wahyu Kelsall: How did you imagine spending Christmas before this trip, and how did that expectation change once you were on the ship?
Eva Lu: Christmas usually includes the smell of cookies and the large tree in the corner. On the ship, the “tree” was parked on the side of the stage with plastic needles and the cookies were the ones you took from the glass jar.
There is a teenager’s honesty in that comparison. It is not sentimental. It is an inventory of what is missing.
Wahyu Kelsall: So did it feel like Christmas?
Eva Lu: While Christmas wasn’t exactly “Christmas”, it allowed the shift from the anticipation of getting things to instead witnessing things.
A neat reversal, and one that only really works in a place where the usual cues do not apply.
Wahyu Kelsall: How did it feel to celebrate Christmas somewhere so far from home? Which moments stand out most clearly now?
Eva Lu: It was definitely memorable. You couldn’t even call it Christmas Eve and day since the sun didn’t set. It felt strange, to say the least. It didn’t really feel like Christmas, especially when my brother and I got a call from the cabin telephone (ancient technology) to come to my parents’ cabin for presents.
That detail lands with the precision of a memory you cannot manufacture: a Christmas summons delivered via a cabin phone, while daylight refuses to move on.
The Drake Passage: poetic, then annoying
Wahyu Kelsall: What part of the journey did you look forward to most?
Eva Lu: I was looking forward to the Drake Passage the most. There is something poetic about having to cross a great stretch of aggressive water to get to “the end of the earth”.
That is the pre-trip version. Poetic, dramatic, a rite of passage.
Here is the post-trip version.
Wahyu Kelsall: What was the Drake Passage actually like?
Eva Lu: I wasn’t sea sick, but I was sick of the sea. The constant motion didn’t make me nauseous, but it annoyed me constantly. It was definitely calmer than expected, but the waves will get old after a day or two.
It is hard to think of a more teenage review, and it is exactly why this perspective matters.
Ten days offline
Wahyu Kelsall: What is one thing you would tell another teenager who is about to do a trip like this?
Eva Lu: Be prepared for having no internet. For ten days, it gets pretty boring when you have the stark change from being able to access the internet at all times to being cut off from your friends and the rest of the world. My advice? Downloading movies is your new best friend.
Adults often frame “disconnecting” as virtuous. Eva frames it as real. Sometimes it’s calming. Sometimes it’s boring. Both can be true.
Wahyu Kelsall: What kept you entertained on sea days?
Eva Lu: With not being able to access the internet, it became a good time to spend some time alone. And of course I mean watching downloaded movies until my eyes got sore, but I am totally joking. I brought along a couple of books to read, along with my music. Going to one of the lounges on the cruise and reading for a couple hours was very relaxing and helped the constant motion get out of my head.
This is where kidfluence stops being a headline and becomes practical. Teenagers know what makes a trip workable from the inside. Not just where to go, but how to live it.
Antarctica in three senses
Wahyu Kelsall: If you could describe Antarctica in three sensory details, what would they be? A sound, a smell, and a feeling.
Eva Lu: When we were on the water in the kayaks, the constant sound of my dad’s paddle hitting the water and the lack of mine. With the occasional cracking of the ice that made me think the world was going to end.
Eva Lu: I wish I could say the most memorable smell was the freshness in the morning, instead of the pungent smell of the penguins. It was really an experience on the senses.
Eva Lu: The obvious feeling is the cold. The harsh wind when you’re on the zodiacs attacks you everywhere.
Antarctica is not only a view. It is sound and smell and weather. It is the kind of place that refuses to stay abstract.
What she packed and what she didn’t need
Wahyu Kelsall: What is one thing you packed that turned out to be essential, and one thing you did not need at all?
Eva Lu: My sweatpants. Staying on a ship for ten days definitely required comfort, warmth, and looking semi-alive. Walking around in pyjamas would be a cry for help. Bringing fancy clothes was a waste of space. My “nice” shoes never left my suitcase, and my legs would surely freeze if I even thought about wearing a skirt.
Wahyu Kelsall: What would you recommend packing for a Christmas trip to Antarctica?
Eva Lu: Layers. Pack enough until you believe yourself to be a human onion. And don’t forget the essentials: sunglasses, a warm hat, and thick socks. The first couple of days I underestimated the weather, which meant very cold toes throughout the day.
Advice from cold toes is always better than advice from the internet.
Would she do it again?
Wahyu Kelsall: Do you think Antarctica is a good place to spend Christmas away from home?
Eva Lu: Yes, but only once. I don’t think I will ever regret that Christmas away from home because it was such a unique experience. On the other hand, I don’t think I will ever return to Antarctica during Christmas. There are more places to see, and if I return to Antarctica, I would like to experience the other seasons.
It is a clean, forward-looking answer. One adventure does not need to become a tradition to be worth doing.
Quick-fire questions
Wahyu Kelsall: Can people still bring gifts and celebrate in a traditional way onboard?
Eva Lu: Yes, take notes parents. Give gifts to your children. Don’t let the fact that you are on an adventure of a lifetime stray from the fact that it is still Christmas. Christmas is where you are.
Wahyu Kelsall: Did the ship feel festive?
Eva Lu: The halls were decorated. They could never match the Christmas spirit of home, but it was amazing how much effort they put in.
Wahyu Kelsall: From your perspective, did it feel safe and suitable for teenagers?
Eva Lu: The cruise felt safe, but it didn’t baby us. We were treated just like any adult.
Closing
Madeline’s version of this story starts with a parent making a brave call: moving Christmas somewhere that barely feels real until you see it. Eva’s version lands differently. It’s not about the spectacle. It’s about what actually changes when you take the familiar away and what’s left when you do.
And in a place like Antarctica, where Christmas can’t be staged, that shift from getting to witnessing becomes the whole point.
Maybe that’s the simplest way to explain kidfluence. Teenagers don’t just influence where a family goes next. They influence whether the trip works once you’re there.
Discover Ultimate Horizons
We’ve created something that sits between a brochure and a keepsake: Ultimate Horizons, our new coffee table book. Through long-form editorial, it lingers on each destination and the way travel can change how you see the world.
This Antarctica journey is part of that same spirit – an invitation to explore where the edge of ordinary might be for you.
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Request your copyImage credits: Madeline Lu & Lisa LaPointe