It was a cold clear night, the mountains that were hidden yesterday were now visible and gleaming in the sun. We had little time and energy to go up the valley to re-explore - today was going to be a killer. The intention was to get as close as possible to the iconic torres, as much a icon to Patagonia as the pyramids are to Egypt.

The first section was an easy 2hrs east following the lake. Knowing it was going to be a long day we pressed on as much as possible. The even more vivid blue lake, flowers, mountains and sunshine were just crying out to be photographed or enjoyed whilst resting on a rock. The route took us onto a pebble beach, resistance was futile we had to stop and appreciate the surroundings in the warm sun. I would say it was a perfect beach but that acolade is normally applied to sandy beaches. As far as pebble beaches go it was perfect, the pebbles were all a uniform size and shape, the bay had a perfect curve with rocky outcrops and folage at both ends. The vital element was vivid turquoise and clean enough to drink.

The pleasant slob ended with a heavy strain on the arms as we hauled the rucksacks back onto our backs. We headed off actually feeling comfortably warm with tee shirts.

We got to the refugio feeling fresh and with good moral. The refugio was brand new, it was built to bridge the big gap between the refugios at either side of the park. We sat on a bench and made up the last of the bread into sandwiches for lunch. Although the maps indicated camping I could only see space for three tents and those were being used, thank God we didn't choose here to camp as the next nearest place was 11km away over undulating terrain.

A board showing the terrain over the next section acted more as a warning than just information for the curious. We saw a couple that set out from the last place about an hour before us still there looking very tired. They were enquiring whether the time estimates of 4.5 hours were acurate. The news was bad for them they were told that they were. In Australia we did all the treks in half the estimated official time including numerous stops for chilling and taking photos. In Chile and Argentina these time estimates are only accurate if you are fit, don't stop and don't have heavy bags. We proved this on the section that we just completed. We did it on time when we allowed for stoppages and didn't have the slowing effects of steep inclines with heavy bags.

With a here goes we set off. It didn't take long before we passed the knackered couple, the guy was sitting on a rock with his head slumped. I was ahead of Liz so that she could catch up whilst I took pictures. Liz thought the same, they looked bad enough for her to ask if they were OK. It all sounded like a case of them not being fit enough compounded by overpacking. Being overprepared can be more a killer in proper mountains than underpacking. In the small mountains of the lake district mountain rescue continually complain about people going out poorly equiped. In the significantly more tiring mountains of Scotland they warn people about overpacking and getting into difficulties with fatigue.

We started feeling the strain on the climb. There was little of interest on this long section other than strange flying saucer clouds and the mountains we were leaving behind us. At the top of the second and final high point was a sign offering a short cut to a refugio and camping area only 3 hours trek to the torres that we wanted to see. If we took this route it would involve climbing further up and adding distance to a already long day. The other path however lead downhill to the Los Torres camp site. This option was tempting when you are knackered but it would mean losing the height that we would have to climb the next day plus a lot more. The possibility of seeing the torres turn pink at sunrise would be impractical.

We chose the shortcut praying that it diddn't undulate it's way up. Luckily it was a constant climb, I started to hum adapted Christmas songs and employ other measures to take my mind off tired limbs. To our right the scenery was just like the highlands of Scotland, to our left was a large snowy mountain. We were climbing it's flanks gaining height whilst heading more directly to the valley separating it from the next mountain.

The shortcut wasn't shown on the map, so when we eventually joined the main valley path we were unsure how far we had to go. A sign on the main path confirmed that we had a steep section and then a short drop to the camping area. We were in take every step as it comes mode, I had a pain in my right foot and was pretty tired. Every brow that you see you muster the strength to climb to hoping that you will see the camp site at the top. Most of the time you will be met with another brow to climb to until eventually Liz shouted "I can see it".

The refugio was in a nice spot above a wild fast flowing river with views of the torres high above. Through the windows you could see the guests having drinks at tables set for dinner. Whilst they were warm with little to do but relax in frount of the log burner we had to find a spot in a shabby wood full of tents and then settle down to make dinner out of the dregs of our remaining food. The have and have not feeling felt strong.

Liz payed a lot for the right to put your tent on a small section of packed earth between the tree roots. We also had access to a single mostly blocked sink with water so cold you could hardly hold the water bottle after filling it up.

The dinner of pasta, condensed soup, noodles, raw onion and cheese mixed together was actually rather nice. I diddn't waste any time getting all the evenings jobs completed - I had two jumpers and a coat on but the sleeping bag was the only place I knew I would be warm.

After dark probally about 11pm we heared the knackered couple arrive. Despite being on their last legs they seemed equally determined to see the torres by chosing to walk further to this camp site.

I stayed awake a little longer hoping for a break in some very loud snoring to get to sleep. The snoring did stop for a little while but some Koreans were making a right old din. There was the avolances but I seem to have got used to sleeping through these.

The ear plugs were of little use, we tried shutting up the Koreans but it didn't work. Eventually all went quiet I took out the ear plugs and fell asleep.