Can I come down now?

What a shocking night. Despite the absence of any other symptoms of acute mountain sickness (AMS), I sleep terribly. I am restless, and can?t imagine that I sleep more than 0 or 20 minutes. Poor Mike G (with whom I am sharing a tent) fares worse: he awakes with acid reflux and a headache, and then vomits his gastric contents. He is the paragon of virtue, however, and manages to miss both me and our kit. What a gentleman!

We had planned to be out after sun-up, which proves a wise decision. It is bitterly cold here at 07.00, but by 09.00 we can feel our fingers, and begin our descent.

Meanwhile, the news from camp one is less joyful: Chris VT has had a bad night, confused and unwell, needing oxygen and all the medications in the armoury. The camp is heading down in advance of the storm, and we shall join them at ABC.

The descent is far quicker than the ascent, and we are especially pleased to abseil down some of the steep passages which had taken so long to climb. We make Camp 1 within 2 hours, and stash some kit before continuing to ABC in the (now heavy) snow. All in all, we have made it from C2 to ABC in a little under four and a half hours, but are now exhausted.

We arrive to plentiful food and drink- there is even a glass of red wine! - and the presence of some guides from another group. These (experts, it must be said) place C2 by GPAS at 7200m, rather than 7036m as our barometric altimeters suggest. This certainly fits with our feelings: I was far more breathless there than on the summit of Aconcagua (6997m).

The remaining hours are spent eating and eating more, before a DVD is broken out (?I, Robot?). And so to bed at about 23.00hrs.

Story by Hugh Montgomery