It’s 5am, dark, I haven’t eaten, it’s zero on the temperature gauge, even though it’s the middle of April there’s plenty of snow underfoot, the equivalent of a small child is clinging to my back (my camera gear, not Greg), head torches are an essential requirement and for some reason I’m scrambling up the base of a ridiculously steep hill in Snowdonia asking myself for all the world what on earth I’m doing there.

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