Left: Piper Gilbert Kerr and friend. Image courtesy of The Royal Scottish Geographical Society.

Strapping on his crampons and tossing an ice pick in his rucksack, Mark McLaughlin tells it as he sees it at this fantastic exhibition.

Anyone lamenting Edinburgh's drizzly and bitter May weather can take consolation, and shelter, in a current exhibition at the Royal Museum of Scotland.

A celebration of the life and work of Polar scientist William Speirs Bruce is on until June 1, in conjunction with May's Museums and Galleries month.

The name will be unfamiliar to many people outside the field of Polar academia. Bruce saw himself as more humble scientist than dashing explorer, but this only adds to the mystery of the exhibition.

Although born in London on August 1 1867, he lived most of his life in Scotland. In 1887 he enrolled as a medical student at the University of Edinburgh, at a time when the city was the world centre for oceanic study.

Right: The Scotia, April 1903. Image courtesy of The Royal Scottish Geographical Society.

This led to his first Antarctic expedition, as a medic aboard the whaling ship Balaena. Speirs Bruce abhorred the brutal animal slaughter, but the experience whetted his appetite for some serious research.

Those north of the border will be unsurprised to learn that Speirs Bruce returned to Scotland to train for the Poles' unbearable icy climates, controlling a weather station at the summit of Ben Nevis in 1895.

The following year he got his chance to explore the Arctic, aboard an expedition led by explorer Frederick Jackson and financed by wealthy Daily Mail publisher Alfred C Harmsworth. It was during this, and numerous subsequent expeditions, that he carried out his pioneering work.

To those shy of a science and history lesson, this may all sound a bit dull. What really ties this exhibition together though is the personality of Speirs Bruce himself.

The walls are littered with photographs, paintings and quotes that bring not just the science, but the whole era to life. The zeal with which Speirs Bruce approaches his work is infectious, especially in the beautiful prose of his diary entries:

"I am burning to be off again anywhere, but particularly to the far South where I believe that there is a vast sphere for research. The taste I have has made me ravenous."

Left: you'd have thought he'd be a little cold. Image courtesy of The Royal Scottish Geographical Society.

There are also a number of comical anecdotes to sooth the dry bones of history, such as his brisk four-day dash from Ben Nevis to London for the Jackson-Harmsworth expedition, and the tales of him almost killing himself learning to ski.

There is a gem of a photograph of Speirs Bruce on skis, stiff as a board and cradling his back on the slopes of Ben Nevis.

Even the science occasionally raises a smile. Speirs Bruce studied Artic Ocean currents with a message-in-a-bottle in the languages of the surrounding countries, conjuring up images of perplexed Norwegians scratching their heads at washed-up notes addressed to the British Admiralty.

Rather than treading the same familiar snowy ground, Bruce's work presents a wholly different picture of polar discovery. There are no tales of frost bitten limbs or gruelling endurance.

For that, Dundee's Discovery Point is a few miles up the road, and its rather steep entry fee recalls the observation of Speirs Bruce's friend and biographer Robert Rudsmore Brown that "Polar explorers must be experts in parting people from their money!"

This free exhibition is instead a fascinating story of scientific study in the world's most hostile environment and, in the words of William Speirs Bruce, represents "good solid work…not tales of suffering, privation and death".

Reviewer Mark McLaughlin is participating in the 24 Hour Museum / Museum and Galleries Month Arts Writing Prize.