I had a once-in-a-lifetime glamping experience on the 'edge of the world'. It was one of the most surreal and scary things I've done - and the closest I'll come to visiting space

It doesn't seem real. I sit in a buttery-soft, toasty-warm king bed, looking out through huge, curved windows. They offer a panoramic view of an almost endlessly white, glittering carpet, shimmering as if a giant has spilt sugar all over it. In the distance are dark shapes - mountains, jagged and foreboding enough to be the kind of place dragons might roost. Pass through the large gap between two of the craggy peaks, I'm told, and eventually you'll reach the South Pole.

Fantastic as the scene seems, it's entirely real - in fact, it's just another day at White Desert's Echo camp in Queen Maud Land, deep in Antarctica's icy interior. 'About 99 per cent' of Antarctic visitors come by cruise ship, explains co-founder Patrick Woodhead, holder of three polar exploration world records. With strict limits on the number of people allowed on shore at a time, few get to spend the night.

Woodhead was amid a 1,850km Antarctic traverse, trapped for four days in a tent with three teammates because of a raging storm, when the idea for White Desert was born. By this point they were all telling the same stories - and that's when Woodhead and the others got to wondering why scientists and polar explorers were usually the only ones privileged enough to experience the Antarctic interior. Echo, at more than 71 degrees south latitude, is the newest of White Desert's three Antarctic camps. Guests are first flown 5.5 hours south from Cape Town in an Airbus A340 or business jet to the ice runway operated between mid-November and early February.

Ben Mack visited White Desert's Echo camp in Queen Maud Land, deep in Antarctica's icy interior. Guests stay in one of six igloo-like, heated pods, the temperature of which can be controlled with a digital thermostat. 'Admittedly, being present is a struggle amid the surrealness,' Ben (pictured) says. This is summer in Antarctica, when the sun is up 24 hours a day and temperatures are sometimes just a few degrees below zero. In fact, Echo staff say the relative warmth surprises many guests.

While it's possible to be on the ice for just a few hours - indulging in activities like a Champagne picnic or riding orange fat bikes - before heading back north, staying at Echo means prolonged time amid an alien landscape. Woodhead says it is the closest thing to visiting space. It's not cheap: a week at Echo for the 2025-26 season, including a visit to the South Pole and trip to a colony of about 14,000 emperor penguins and their chicks, is US $110,000 (AUD $174,709) per person.

But it can be life-changing for those who do visit. As a fellow guest - an American running her own high-end travel agency - tells me: 'There's an intensity of the moment that forces you to be present.'. Admittedly, being present is a struggle amid the surrealness. Guests in the solar-powered camp stay in one of six igloo-like, heated pods, the temperature of which can be controlled with a digital thermostat. The pods also have carpeted floors, ensuites, couchettes, USB ports, and king beds with a daily turndown service.

That's just the start of what's best described as a five-star hotel - or glamping - in Antarctica. At the centre of camp, just a few crunchy steps from the guest pods, is a main complex that includes walk-in showers with hot water and Charlotte Rhys toiletries. There's also a lounge pod with an original Anthony James kaleidoscopic sculpture, and plenty of plush furniture for socialising while enjoying salmon and caviar canapes, wine and handcrafted cocktails (White Desert's even hiring for an on-ice mixologist).

Pictured is the 'dreamy' library pod, with books and rare curios like fossilised shells and shiny, multicoloured geodes. Guests are first flown 5.5 hours south from Cape Town in an Airbus A340 or business jet to the ice runway operated between mid-November and early February. It can be life-changing for those who visit. As a fellow guest - an American running her own high-end travel agency - tells Ben: 'There's an intensity of the moment that forces you to be present'.

My favourite place, however, is the dreamy library. Surrounded by books and rare curios like fossilised shells and shiny, multicoloured geodes, it's a cosy space with inspiring views of the enormous, almost overwhelming white outside. The mind easily wanders in such a setting - so much so, I occasionally catch myself forgetting I'm in Antarctica and not on another planet entirely. It's not as difficult being present, however, during daily activities led by expert guides. I'm kitted for each mostly in gear White Desert recommended I bring like thermal pants and tops, down jackets and hiking boots spiky crampons can be attached to.

They do provide some gear, like polar jackets and helmets. On the first day in Antarctica I find myself hiking around a nunatak - the top of a mountain sticking out of an ice field or glacier. It's called 'Cheesegrater' because of its pockmarked appearance. Surrounded by towering ice cliffs, the sky is sapphire-blue. Brown birds (south polar skua) soar overhead; I'm surprised there's any wildlife in such a remote place.