Jingle Bells Piano

I got the link to the video for Kiwi Jinge bells so it will probably work.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aoSFgpKPRQSGElE643NKSPJi3KtXQhX0/view?usp=sharing It is very quiet so you might need to turn your sound up.

My Kiwi Jingle Bells (SLJ)

This is a re-writing of Kiwi Jingle Bells by The Polkadots. I hope you like it! I put heaps of ffort into learning the chorus of Jingle Bells by ear on the piano. 

Custom Santa Outfit (SLJ)

 This is a Australian Santa outfit I made for the Summer Learning Journey.

How I Write

This is a document I made on how I write my stories. 

 My name is AIlie and I really enjoy writing. It is my favourite subject at school and I even won a trophy for it. One day I want to be a world famous thriller author of many scary books that take you on an emotional journey. My favourite books are the twilight saga, hunger games, and harry potter. I have a style of writing like nobody else's in class because of the experiences I have had with books I have read. I also really enjoy Stacy Gregg books. I don't like writing recounts because it is harder to write in first person or in third person. I know lots of people write off of experiences they have had but not quite a recount. Now, this is how I write my stories. 

 First, I have to have an idea. Not just an idea though, one that really clicks in my head. I don’t like to use cliches in my writing because that makes my stories like others. I like to write unique stories so my audience doesn’t get bored a minute in. I have a story planning document I use when I am writing new stories so I don’t lose my idea. I also use it to build up my ideas.

 Almost every time I write a story, I have inspiration. I follow a tik tok account of a teenager writing a book. They give out writing tips to other young writers like the do’s and don'ts. I usually get my story ideas from books I read but it's never word for word. It’s more I use words and aspects from the story and implement them into my own. I am writing a story called Soulful and like how the vampires in twilight sometimes have gifts, instead of sometimes, everyone has gifts. But they aren’t vampires. And like hunger games, scientists send kids to an arena. Not for the same reason though. They have to discover their power by facing fearsome creatures. 

 Synonyms. Sometimes I will think of a boring word that would fit right into my story but also think it was to cliche. So every time I look up ‘(Insert word) synonym’. It always comes up with exceptional words for me to use in my stories. I also find my words from reading other good books and finding out the meaning. Once I have found the meaning, I’ll be able to use the word whenever in my story. That sort of goes along with inspiration, but it is also a very good reason for why my stories are slightly engrossing. 

 I like to sort my writing into paragraphs to make my stories easier to read. If your writing is bunched up the whole time, it will be harder for the reader to read. They will get confused with the lines and overall give up reading the book/story. Lots of stories do 

This with their paragraphs which is nice, but sometimes it gets harder to tell if you’re starting a new paragraph or changing the line. 

 When writing a story, I find it’s easier to write a short story then to drag on your story to the point where it is more boring than watching paint dry. If you are writing a story about maybe a teenage girl, you shouldn’t write it like: 

And then she woke up, got dressed, and went to school. At school, she learned about english. It was fun. That doesn’t hook the reader in. It should be more along the lines of: 

When she finally woke up, she sighed. Another day. (Name) slipped on her golden uniform and ate her mushy breakfast soon after. The walk to school was almost painful, but the subject english was more. 

There are better words used like adjectives to describe what she is doing. And when you are writing and trying to drag along to the climax, don't make it boring. Make it a journey for the reader and the character to get there. 

 So overall, try to read longer and better books. It will really help the way you write stories and develop your taste in stories. Look for tips and tricks for writing sites if you really want to know more. If you drag on your stories, the reader will get bored, so make it more interesting. And remember, stay organized!

Perth Travel Brochure (SLJ)

 This is both sides of a travel brochure I made about Perth, Australia for the summer learning journey.

Summer Learning Journey Slide

 This is a slideshow I made about my experience participating in the Summer Learning Journey last year.

Camp Photos

 The school camp and it was a very good experience. My photos weren't as good as camp was though..

The Monster of Stilt Town

 This was a story I wrote called The Monster of Stilt Town.

The water frothed as the young fisherman threw his lure into the dark waters. Steve Evets was newly employed and nervous. Stilt Town 20% relied on him for food tonight. He was thinking hard about his fishing lessons and what to do when there was a bite. A bite told him to depend on it. He reeled in the fish, and to his disappointment, it was tiny. Barely the size of his hand. It also looked horrendous. He sighed. This was going to be a long day. 

He woke with a start. It was the last day until diving day. 25 of the children from Stilt Town, 14-18,  all chosen manually at school the day before, would dive under water to lift a giant stone wall into action. It was going to be Steves first year. His older friends had been telling him how last year, they saw a blue fin. “Thats impossible.” Steve had said. “The monster only comes at precisely two o’ clock,” 

The monster. Right. Every year, June fourteenth, a monster comes to Stilt Town. To reinforce ourselves, ancient people built a raisable stone wall to deflect it. When it comes across the wall, it gives a loud wail, and then disappears.

Then there is a large all you can eat celebration. Everybody in the village is ordered to attend the extravagant occasion.

Just the thought of it gave Steve the chills. He shivered, and not because of the cold winter morning. He sat up and got dressed, then walked out to the wreck he calls his home. Smoke had filled the kitchen and entered Steves lungs. He coughed. It was his father cooking today. “How’s our little diver, eh?” He said cheerily, after which giving a small cough. “Bacon and eggs is a tough meal.” He muttered. Steve laughed. His father had a great sense of humor. His two older brothers sat at the table waiting for there burnt breakfast. It was a waste of great food to them. They barely ever got real meat in this house.

The school was across the street from Steves house. A nerve ball tied inside of his chest. What if he got chosen? His brothers never got chosen, but last year his friends did. He ad a pretty fair chance. Given the fact that there were only 500 kids in Stilt town, and 83 of them in his school. Each school would choose two girls and two boys. There were 6 small schools. 

The classroom was small with 22 children crammed into it. The assembly was called first thing in the morning. Most kids were giddy with excitement, but all Steve felt was nerves. He took a seat on the cold, hard chairs and waited. 

“Welcome, welcome to todays diving ceremony. We will be calling 8 childrens names when the cameras turn on, so just talk to a friend at the moment.” The principal walked of the small stage to talk with the camera crew. The ceremonies of each school are broadcast across the whole town, along with the chidrens name, age, and reaction. 

“Action!” “Welcome, welcome, St Bairens, to the annual diving ceremony. There is really nothing left to say, so can I please have Dean Farris to call the names.” A lady in all gold, including her hair, walked up next to two of the wheels old people use in bingo. Steves heart was pounding. “Ladies first,” She said in a posh accent. “Sarah Mangoh.” She called. A 16 year old girl with a swishy ponytail and grinned walked up to the stage. She was known for being a bully. This was just won more thing for her to brag about. Dean Farris once again pulled a name. 

“Liliana Rosefield.” 

Steves heart stopped. Liliana had been his crush for five years. Her glossy brown hair bounce as she skipped up to the stage. They had exchanged few words, only from occasionally being buddied up. Steve stared with his dark blue eyes as the dean once again started talking in her horrible accent. “Now for the gentlemen,” She said. She rummaged around in a box labled ‘BOYS’. “Garry Berret.” She called. A young an nervous boy walked up to the stage. “Now, last but not least we have, Steve Evets!” Dean Farris called to nobody. 

For the second time in a day, Steve was stunned. He shakily stood up and soon realized he was acting like Garry Berret. He not-so-confidently walked up to the wooden stage and looked at the sea of heads. He wondered how he got chosen. Bad luck, he guessed. Everybody applauded and the screen on the side of the wall went blank.

“Now, all divers, come with me to my office.” The principal said. “We have somebody who wants to meet you.” The principals office was a small room at the back of the school with loads of folders, papers, and books. Two strong men were standing on each side of the small desk and behind them in the principals chair, was the mayor. “Ah, little divers, I’m here to explain what roles you must play tomorrow.” He said. He reminded Steve of a fox, which made him nervous. “You, ponytail, if it comes, you can distract the monster, your hair is radiant enough for it.” The mayor said. 

“Uhm, what? Thats like, a death sentence!” Sarah shrieked. A glare from the mayor shut her up.  “You, the pretty girl, you can pull a the north lever. And boy with blonde hair, you can keep her guard.” Garry’s eyes widened and Liliana’s face brightened. “And lastly, you can sound the alarm if all goes wrong or right.” Steve got the job that did nothing. Of course. All he had to do was press a button when the walls were lifted. Past Steve would’ve been ecstatic, but this seems less epic then he had expected.

“So.. what job did you get?” Steves father asked. “I have to press a button when the walls are lifted to signal that we are safe.” Steve muttered. “Don’t be all gloomy, atleast your part of it!” Steves father always could find a silver lining. A slight raise of Steves shoulder ended the conversation.

The next day, Steve had forgotten he was a diver, but when he drousily walked into the living room, he was greeted with fresh memories. There was a custom banner that read: ‘Happy Diving Day!’. His droopy eyes burst into life. His brothers were sitting at he table wearing silly hats over their soft brown hair. His dad was once again cooking, but there as no smoke this time. 

“Uhmmm, whats this?” Steve asked. “Oh just a little something!” His dad called. Steve walked over to where his dad was to see what he was making.

Cake. Steve’s mouth gaped wide open. They were always to poor to have cakes, even on birthdays. This was indeed a special occasion. His dad chuckled. “Knew it!” Steve stared at him. “I knew you’d be shocked.” He pulled it out the oven, crisp fluffiness and all. After 10 minutes he beautifully iced it. When Steve put it in his mouth, he was surprise at the burst of flavour theat erupted. This was a luxury he had never had.

The dock was wet with salty wave water. Steve was being suited up to go under the deep blue waters. “Here.” A man handed him a small rectangle with one green button and one red. “The red one signals something has gone wrong, and the green one means the walls have been lifted.” Oh, right. That was his job. “Thanks.” He muttered. 

“Divers of Stilt Town, listen here,” Speaker from a nearby building boasted. “In 1 more minute, you will be underneath the waters that stand before you. I must tell Liliana Rosefield, Sofia Night, Jake Prit, and Hazel Feather to go to there gates, all one hundred meters from the dock. And Steve Evets, press the button when your ready! Now, DIVE!”

The water was cold with winter air floating around them. The goggles allowed him to see everything down where he was. He followed Hazel to her wall and saw it rise. The wet stone looked worn and semi-bitten but useable. Next he went to Sofias wall and saw it rise perfectly with Hazels. Jacks was the same. But when he came to Lilianas wall, the red button was about to be put to use. In Stilt Town, everyone knows sign language. Liliana looked stressed. She signed , “It’s jammed!”. Steve slammed the red button before you could say “Sea monster.” A distant siren answered the slam. Really, it wasn’t the best strategy, the monster would be able to hear them from a mile away. Faster than he had ever swum before, Steve swam to the top. “Lilianas wall is jammed!” He yelled. A pause. Then screaming. A few people who lookd calm on the outside, but if you looked into there eyes they look petrified, rushed into a building and came out with hundereds of weapons. People were handing out diving suits and weapons for people to attack. Steve was confused. How could they fight a ginormous beast with nine hundred clueless swimmers? HE took a breath and redived. The sight of blood roused his senses.

It was here. Early. It had gotten through Lilianas wall. Liliana! She wouldn’t be safe there. He swam over and caught a glimpse of a blue tail, stained with small patches of crimson. Steves heart stopped for the second time in two days. He glanced around, just incase, he had reached over the dock and grabbed a dropped knife. This would be the time to use it. A horrifying face appeared in front of Steve. He lunged forward, stabbing the dangerous but beautiful lizard like head. It wailed and turned away, shaking blood from its face. When it had disappeared, a distant cry signalled that it was still a threat. Then Steve realized what he had to do. He had to, somehow, drive it to the surface. Once again, he swam to the surface. “Everyone! Be prepared! I’m going to drive the monster to the surface!” He yelled. Everyone looked stunned. “Please! It is the only way to kill it and live in peace!” There were some shakes of heads and nods of agreement, but overall, his idea had won an unknown vote.

The blue scales camouflage against the ark waters but just not enough to hide the monster. The dagger in Steves hands felt out of place due to his soft heart, but it was what he had to do. He dived underneath the belly and stabbed at the soft, fleshy skin. Intinstivly, the monster rose out to above the surface t get away from its predator. He was greeted with bows and arrows. Even from below th water Steve could see the sickening splashes of monster blood. Then it was sinking upon him.

The blue lizard was sinking fast and on a path onto Steve. Not far now. And Steve wasn’t known to be a fast swimmer. Even with his previous acts, those had still taken a few minutes. He divd out of the way right as it was about to hit him, missing it by centimeters. But when he looked back, he saw a small eye peeking open. It was still alive.

It lunged up at Steve, his heart pounding in his chest like it wanted to escape. Sharp teeth dug right into his toes, allowing flowing blood to fill the waters. That was when the unexpected happened. Radiant skin stabbed the back of the lizard, dagger in a soft hand. It was Liliana Rosefield. Together, they continued to damage the monser until finally, that eye closed. It was over. A holiday, gone.

That night, there was a celebration bigger than the ones before. Steve was having the time of his life, before Liliana walked over to him. “Hey, what you did in the ocean, it was, uhm, really brave.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and ran off. Steve just stood there, shocked out of his skin. What had just happened? Today was the most exciting day of his life. He looked down at his bandaged foot. Still a little sore, but alright. They had to amputate all of the toes on his left foot, because the monster appeared to have an unknown venom.

That next day, he and Liliana were given medals of bravery, and respect from the citizens for saving their lives.

“Really?” Rosie asked her father. “Yes. It’s quite hard to believe, but its true.” Steve Evets answered his daughter. Liliana was busy getting the baby boy to fall asleep. “Silly monsters. You so strong daddy!” She cried. Rosie ran around with her hands in fists in the air. Steve chuckled. He was so lucky.

Vocab Builder

 This is a small slideshow I made about my vocabulary. All my class chose a word with their talking buddies and learned about it. Me and Coopers word was Stickler.

Matariki Slideshow

This is a Matariki slideshow I made with some information in it.

My Metaphor Poem

In class we wrote metaphorical poems to make animals appear as storms.

The storm is a galloping horse,

Graceful but deadly.

It canters hard across the terrain,     

Like a dark brown crane picking up land and throwing it away.

The earth shakes with the sound of pounding hooves,

It rears up and kicks down buildings with strong, sharp hooves.

It reaches down and nudges a forest with its strong head, bulldozering it down,

Wild among a city, it will never stop.

Galloping, storming, snorting.

Beautiful, strong, wild.

A Refugees Story-Ailie.I

This is a long story I made based off the troubles refugees.

The delicious food melted in my mouth as I ate my ice cream. My foster mother had handpicked the flavour from the local super market. But this story is not about my love of ice cream. It is about why I am lucky enough to eat it, and why I have a caring foster mother. Why other children weren’t as lucky as my 13 year old self, and why I have P.T.S.D. My name is Amira, and this is my refugee story, the story of how I came from Syria to New Zealand.

It was 2011, when the Syrian war started. Everyone was fully aware of it, but nobody had any worries. I was living a happy life with my friends and family, with a passion for sports. I had trophies for my many netball wins, with my team, of course. 3rd of May, was a very exciting day at school. We researched all about refugees and the camps. We studied the journeys they went on across mountains and rivers and sneaking past borders. One of my friends, Iman, raised her hand.
“Why are the borders apparently so low guarded?” She said curiously. “Ah, well, Iman, the borders are very well guarded, it is just the refugees that are he smartest.” Our teacher Mr.Abadi replied.
“Oh, ok.”

The next day, the 4th, was even more exciting. It was my 9th birthday! I ran into my mothers room to roll her around, and finally she took me into the living room to open presents. By far, my favourite present was the sci-fi comic book. I love sci-fi. Especially the comic ones! I hugged my mother tightly and wished I couldn’t let go, but eventually, I did. I opened the rest and arrived at school. There I found a special banner hung up just for me, and couldn’t wish for more in my life.

On the 9th of May, 5 days later, I had had a long day at school, with a netball tournament to top it off. My mother was carefully tucking me into bed, reading me my story. 
“Lily then lived a happily ever after in her world of make believe, where there were no threats, no bad people, and no hatred.” Lilys world of make believe was my favourite story. Lily went through her troubles, mountains, rivers, and oceans to get to her dream world, where everything was perfect. My mother had walked out the door, turned my light and and had given me a kiss on the head, when there was a bang.

I jolted out of my near sleep phase with a small scream. There it was again, BANG. It sounded like someone was desperate to break down our door. I rushed out of my small pink room so see my mum talking to a man dressed in Red, green, and white camouflage.
“You need to evacuate, France is planning a bomb drop on our town. You have a ten minute packing time, then you must run for your life.”
I dashed back into my room and grabbed my tiny suitcase. I hurriedly stuffed in my favourite teddy, Foobles, and a few piecies of clothing. I poured all of my fish food into my fishs tank and wished him the best. I snatched up my hairbrush and some hair ties and put them in the side along with my tooth brush and tooth paste. I took my piggy bank and dumped all the coins into my bag, thinking they would come to use. I scurried around my room to find my new book, but it was lost in my thrown around mess.
“Amira! Hurry!” My mother called in a stressed voice. “Nearly ready!” I replied, choked up by tears. I stuffed in my favourite diamond necklace and rushed out the wide open door with my mother. A kind soldier directed us to go north to Turkey, sneak past the borders and to boats. He would give us a map for a single coin and mother passed it over.

The map took us to some rough valleys with sharp stones jutting out of the stony ground. After hours and hours of walking, we found a dark spot to rest. When me and my mother woke up, we found a small stampede of refugees passing by. As soon as we got out of the cave one of them stopped.
“Guys this is pointless!” One called out. “We need a map!”. That is when my mother interfered. “I have a map!” She yelled. She didn’t know how bad of an idea this was. “We will let you have it for- ah!” The man had attacked her. My mother was a very fragile woman, so she dropped the man and let him have it. My mother came out of the tussle injured, but not destroyed. We carried on with or journey, clueless on where to go. We went through days of walking, and trying to keep up with others. Sometimes, when we got up to close to the middle, we were shoved behind by rude refugees. After days of shoving and walking we reached a river.

It appeared to be very deep, and I was scared of crossing it. “Amira, come here.” My mother called over the the deafening crashing of the river. I stumbled over to my mother, slipping on the wet rocks. She picked me up in her weak arms, and stepped in the brown waters. I screamed, but my mother was braver than me. At that moment, she was the bravest person I had ever known.  But the second she took a step in the deep middle, she recoiled.
“You can do it mum!” I told her. She looked at me fondly, and just before she stepped into the thrashing waters, she was stopped. A fellow Syrian refugee offered to take me across this area. He was very tall,  and had a kind face. My mother resisted.
“You don’t have to..” She said. “Don’t worry, she’s small, I’ll take her across.”


When we had ventured past the river, the refugee whos name we learned was Farid, stayed beside us and protected us. I had never known my father, he had died driving to the hospital to see me. My mother had always said he was a kind man, and respectful. Even though I had never met him, I missed him. Farid gave me a fatherly feeling like I had never known, but soon we would never see him again.

10 full days of walking later, we heard more crashing. This time, more violent, like a stormy sea. Turns out, it was a stormy sea. Across from the sea shore there was a crooked wooden dock. Lined up next to it was a small boat that looked like it was older than my mum. An old hut was maybe a five minutes walk away. From inside, a man looked out the window. He stepped outside with a small sack. I shied behin my mother, who stood her ground. “Care for a ride in my boat? It’ll take you places. It is only 70 gold coins.” The man giggled like a maniac. Me and my mother saw all of the refugees pay the price, and soon it wass our turn. My mother scurried around in her suitcase, and withdrew 64 coins.
“Oh dear, we’ll never escape.” My mother said. She looked like she had given up all hope. “I brought 20 coins if that helps?” I piped up. Mother looked at me with shock and love in her eyes. I took out 6 coins from my barbie suitcase and gave them to my mum. She paid the man and the ocean adventure began.

We climbed into the boat and heard a soft creak, as if the boat couldn’t support everybodys weight. To be fair, it was a tiny wooden boat. There was a small storage space at the back which looked like it also held an engine. Just as we got settled, the old man untied the boat and let us free. Farid entered the boats cabin and tried to turn on the engine.
“We have no fuel!” He called. There was a loud scream from everyone inside of the creaky thing. I cried and cried knowing we were going to get lost and never see the soft look of the shore again. After 4 days on the ocean, the worst happened. At least, I thought it was. Everybody had woken up on the wet deck to the crackle of lightning. There was a storm approaching. Everyone yelled and yelled, but there was no shore nearby, not a single boat either. A tall wave crashed onto the small deck and everybody got soaked with cold water. A few refugees like me and mother dashed into the boats cabin and slammed the door. We could see through a window people were being dragged of the boat and into the churning waters. Then, I saw Farid. Fighting for his life inside of the cold, salty ocean. I struggled to open the door.
“It’s not safe, young one,”A woman said, holding me back. I cried even more than ever before. When the sky had cleared up, I looked out the window to try and find Farid on the deck, but he was gone.

We traveled for a few more days. With food running out of stock, we didn’t know what to do. One day, we saw a boat far in the distance. We yelled and yelled, and eventually, it turned to face us. 10 minutes passed and it was lined up next to us, and an anchor dropped. A ragged looking man lept onto our boats and attacked us. This time, the cabin was to full by the time we got to it, and the door slammed in me and my mothers face. I screamed as if deflecting the pirate, but it didn’t work quite as I planned. The pirate ran over to us and snatched up my suit case and stole my diamond necklace, along with a few coins.
“No! Please!” I screamed. He pulled out a dagger from his pocket and stabbed me in the hand. I yelled in pain, then the world went black.

I opened my eyes, and yet again, there were less people on the boat. The pirate incident had left us with as little as 10 refugees on the boat! I looked around, but I didn’t see my mother.
“Mother? Mother!” I cried. I curled up into a ball on the cold deck, alone. I looked at my hand saw a deep cut, oozing with blood. A kind looking lady strolled over to me. “Where is your mother?” She must’ve been in the cabin. “Pirates, black, gone..” I choked. “Awww, sweetie.” She looked at me pitifully. She wrapped my hand in white cloth and gave me a long hug. Suddenly, a little girl screamed. “Land! Land!” Everybody rushed to where the girl was. Sure enough, there was a patch of land in the distance.

When the boat finally bumped the shore, all 10 refugees streamed out. Little girls and boys ran, and adults said their thanks to the lord. All I did was stare. We were free of that enclosed space. After a days worth of rest, we started to travel again. It felt weird without my mother, and I felt deep sorrow and guilt.  The kind lady walked next to me though. I had wondered if she had lost her son or daughter, because she too looked guilty.
“You are from Syria?” She said, breaking the silence. “Yes..” I said slowly. “Where is your father?” She asked. “Died in accident coming to see me as a baby.” The lady looked pitiful again. “I’m sorry. Do you have any more refugee family.?” I shook my head. “Oh. I lost my son in the waves..” She said, with a voice crack near the end. She looked like she was about to cry. I reached over and hugged her, and she hugged me back.

“Excuse me, are you refugees?” A man in black asked us. “That is correct.” The man who stole my mothers map said. I was surprised he was still alive. “You will have to come with me.” The man in black said to us. We followed him a short way to a place surrounded with tents. There were watchtowers at every corner of a stone wall, watching to see if anyone escaped.
“You are in north-west Kenya, in the refugee camp Kakuma.” The guard said. The ten of us looked around. It was huge. There were hundreds of thousands of tents scattered across a wide expanse of land. There were unhappy people all across the land, and as we walked through, they were giving us warnings like: “It’s terrible here!” “You wish you would get resettled.” “it stinks here.”. I was very shy at the time so I was a bit startled by these warnings.
I spent 4 years in the horrid refugee camp. I was put into a tent with the nice woman, who’s name was Yara, and there was often a routine. Wake up, dirty shower, gooey breakfast, gooey lunch, gooey dinner, sleep. But on May 4th, my 13th birthday, a man walked into our tent.
“Amira, Yana, pack your things, you are getting resettled to New Zealand.” We cheered and cheered. We were finally getting a new home! I ran to my bed and packed up my clothes.

A few days later we boarded a small airplane to New Zealand. A day on the airplane passed and we arrived at New Zealand.
“It is beautiful!” I gasped. Yara nodde in disbelief. We were escorted to a nice house in Foxton and now my life is perfect! Yes, I miss my mother, but, I have a new mother, Yara. I have P.T.S.D, as in, I can’t stand the ocean, or ragged clothes. I have constant nightmares about my journey, and when I am alone I am reminded of curling up on the deck. Other than that, I love life and I am very thankful for what it has done for me.

Antarctica

This is an information report I made about Antarctica.

Antarctica is a continent on the bottom of the earth. It is purely made of ice and snow with temperatures of -40 degrees celsius. This continent is the home of the south pole. The country closest to Antarctica is New Zealand which is why it can be so cold here sometimes. Antarcticas ice is very thick which provides sturdy-ness to the few creatures that live there.

While its highest heat has been 63 degrees fahrenheit, the coldest it can be is -89 degrees! The weather can be nasty down there so if you were going for a visit, you’d have to bring some ECW (Extremley Cold Weather gear). The reason why Antarctica is so cold? It is due to no direct sunlight landing on the area, resulting in limited heat. The average climate in the cold continent is -57 degrees.

The terrain of Antarctic is very flat. If you are traversing across the ice-land you will have quite the smooth ride, with few mountains to look at. One of Antarcticas nicknames are ‘Flat Antarctica’. 

Antarctica has many mountains and volcanoes. Mount Vinson Massif is the tallest mountain there with a height of 4,892m. The shortest mountain is Gaussberg, an extinct volcano.  Some of the interesting mountains are Mount Erebus, which is actually an active volcano! Sir Ernest Shackletons crew was the first group to ever climb up Mount Erebus in 1908, but it took 77 years for the first solo climb to commence.  Mount Jackson is the highest peak in the Antarctic peninsula, reaching a height of 3,184m.

Antarcticas ice is very thick, and holds 70% of the worlds freshwater. The thickest it can get on the ice sheet is 4,776m. The thinnest ice sheet is the East Antarctica Ice Sheet (Estimate). The many sheets actually cover 98% of th continent, only 2% is land. If all this ice were to melt, the sea levels would rise a drastic 60m!

Antarctica is a cold continent covered in thick, fresh water holding ice. It’s flat terrain makes room for many interesting volcanoes and mountains.

BITBOTC Syria

I made a SMALL info report on Syria for Boy In The Back Of The Class