I’d had enough, I was overwhelmed and claustrophic in that space. I just started walking not knowing where I was going but just to be moving. My backpack had a rip in the top and twice someone tried to put their hand in and rip it from my back. I was well and truly at my wits end. Then I spotted the ocean at the end of the street. All other plans were gone. I needed to be by the sea.

It was inevitable that I would end up in the Alps for winter. I managed to get a job at a very fancy ski chalet in La Clusaz and my friend Trudie was just down the road in the next village. About halfway through the season she asked me if I’d be interested in doing a ski tour at the end of the season. She was looking at doing the Haute Route with her partner at the time. My first questions were, “what is ‘ski touring’? And what is the ‘Haute Route’?” She explained and of course I was all in.

One of the greatest adventurers that I have had the pleasure to meet doesn’t wear head to toe khaki, she doesn’t own a flap hat or a ‘leatherman’ nor does she have all the latest and greatest gadgets…