|Mt Ningadhun sunrise|
Waking in the dark, disorientated after a deep, exhausted sleep of wild dreams, it seems crazy but it's time to get up. Caz unzips the tent fly to reveal a starlit sky, a thin sliver of moon hangs precariously in the west. I fumble for my head torch then reluctantly shimmy out of the warm sleeping bag and drag on extra layers of clothing. There is no frost on the ground but a southerly breeze feels like ice and before long my fingers are aching with cold as I prepare tea and coffee.