Antarctica is the trip that ends the conversation about trips. Nothing else produces the silence that falls over a zodiac when the engine cuts and a glacier face the size of a city block stands in front of you. Two structural things decide the quality of an expedition. First, ship size: regulations cap landings at 100 guests ashore at a time, so a ship carrying 200 or fewer means you land more, wait less, and see everything; the mega ships mostly cruise past.

Second, the expedition team is the product. Naturalists, geologists and historians run every landing and every lecture, and on the best ships the parka is a gift, the boots are loaned, and the champagne appears when you cross the Circle. The luxury expedition tier earns its price here more clearly than anywhere else on earth.

November brings pristine snow and courting penguins; December and January bring chicks; February brings whales in numbers. There is no wrong month, only different wildlife.