We left Puerto Natales loaded up with all the camping gear and in the company of Keith.

Keith was there to be our 'assistent' to help put up tents and to guard the stuff while we were hiking. He's a 2 metre tall, all limbs and legs, 20 year old surfer dude from San Diego, California. He could be a stand-in for a band member of Limp Bizkit, with his goatee and ear studs. He looked completely out of place and was absolutely adorable.

Keith sat next to Clive. He kept calling him 'Clyde' until Clive snapped and corrected him. Apparently Keith had never heard the name Clive in his (young) life. Keith immediately started picking on me, which in true high school fashion I took to mean that he quite liked me, which turned out to be true.

We stopped on the way for condors, loads of guanaco's (a funny-looking llama-like creature) and a particularly obliging playful fox, which kindly waited until we had all taken photos before strolling off.

We carried all the stuff from the bus to the ferry and clambered in. It was an exceptionally clear day (the weather gods have been smiling on us so far) so we could see the Torres (when we were not being splashed by the ferry) which are very impressive.

I don't really understand why some mountains seem to inspire more awe in people than others. They are not terribly high or big, but the fact that they have been made by glaciers and eroded by the elements has something that makes them feel timeless, whereas your life is not even a pinprick on their history.

The water the ferry zoomed over was turquoise, surreal and soon took it's first victim: Clive's hat blew off and ended up in the water. Duncan, fit as a mountain goat, tried to rescue it but alas... Two minutes later we lost the kettle lid to the elements as Janet and I were trying to be too helpful and both tried to get the kettle. But it's amazing what you can do with aluminum foil!

We struck camp (some official lingo from Isabel and Jeff, who are old hands at camping) in the windiest spot in TDP NP (Torres Del Payne National Park), which was good for lots of comedy moments when camping virgins and old hands alike tried to set up tents. It was a good thing Phil, Jeff and Isabel were there, to be honest.

Kirsty and me had a tent with none matching cover, and Phils had no pegs, so we managed to put together one tent out of two, which left us with one short. Duncan had to share with Clive who normally has a room on his own as he snores for England.

There was a natural divide between two sections of tents, and we dubbed ours the council estate, as all the tents were really close together, with doorflaps in unlikely places and guideropes to trip over...

I went with Keith to defrost to the lodge of the hotel, and we shared a box of Gato Negro, which is cheapo red wine which stains your lips and is sold very expensive there (well, 3000 pesos but it's still a rip off) as there is only one shop. Isabel and Jeff joined us and Keith and Jeff played a game of chess. Jeff won.

In the dinner tent, more Gato Negro and a similar poison called 120 was being consumed in great quantities and after that we all got to sleep uncomfortably in our windy spot, and I was very happy I bought those silly thermal pants from Marks & Spencers.