For years now, I have been fairly drawn to Iceland. I've yet to be able to go, mostly because I cannot afford to turn that trip into what I want it to be, yet. Ideally, I want to go for at least six months, and possibly work while I am there exploring and experiencing. I have never tried to explain this draw to it, for it is downright inexplicable, and accept it for what it is; focused wanderlust. It is simply something I must do before I die.
Creeping into the same vein, recently, is Antarctica. Funny that I should say this during a rather cold Michigan Winter (though we are not so deeply frozen as Boston and others on the East Coast, and I truly hope you all are safe and well), since pretty much everyone around me is complaining about how cold it is. To me, it is just another day and I don't mind because I take the few extra minutes to prepare for going outside.
With Antarctica, my absolute limits would probably be put to the hardest physical test I'd ever have to endure. Though, from what I have gathered so far, things are not like what they once were during Shackleton's expeditions, and for the most part it has become much easier to head down there and not only survive, but survive fairly comfortably. This is where I think my draw to Antarctica is different from Iceland; what I wish to experience in Antarctica is what Shackleton went through. With Iceland, it is more about simply seeing the beauty of the country and it's residents, but with Antarctica, it is about whether or not I can.
I'm starting to think I just like cold places. Pretty okay with that.