I am now officially down the mountains, and all but survived the drinking with the team of crack commandos and crazy Poles. I did get my expedition tattoo though. But the emotional rollercoaster dumped me at a bit of a dead end. I bought a bike today and plan to set off for England tomorrow. […]

Somewhere in Italy, we descended from the third in a series of cable cars at about 3500 metres. We put on our glacier gear and tentatively headed into the furrow in the snow which led off to the other peaks. We had not trained on snow, so had no idea what it would be like.

The best way to prepare for and endure any long distance flight is to get thoroughly rat-arsed. So drunk that you sweat and deep thrombose your way through the flight in a semi-conscious state. Think of yourself as beef jerky at 30,000 feet. When you land at your destination, simply add water and stir. Bam.