Al polo australe in velocipede

In a smoky tavern buzzing with the clang of mugs and the crackle of pipe smoke, a motley circle of geographers, merchants and adventurers bicker over the recent wreck of the English‑led Eira expedition. Voices rise in sarcastic accents as American, British and Italian pride collide, each side insisting their nation should claim the frozen prize. The animated exchange, punctuated by burst of laughter and a near‑violent fist‑slap, gives a vivid picture of the era’s fierce rivalry and the public’s appetite for daring polar tales.

Amid the uproar, an Italian officer steps forward with a wild, half‑joking plan: trek to the South Pole not by ship but on a sturdy velocipede, mapping a route across the ice with the aid of G. Bruno’s meticulous illustrations. He promises a bold, mechanical journey that could outshine the failed voyages and put Italy at the forefront of discovery. The proposal sets the stage for a comically audacious quest that mixes scientific ambition with the tongue‑in‑cheek spirit of the nineteenth‑century exploration clubs.