After a bone shaking two day bus ride from Manali to Leh, we found ourselves at the bottom of the Himalayas. A friendship based on shared busride hardships and then several friend of a friend introductions later we had a group of eight great people with which to hang out, eat, and most importantly, organise the trekking trip of a lifetime.

First comes Ian, one of the nicest, genuine men we have ever met. He introduced us to Keith and Tina from Ireland, whose rigorous training regime for the trek consisted of the mantra 'no smoking for 24 hours beforehand', they in turn introduced us to Will, Cat & Ben, three awesome Birmingham Uni students who brought humour, a eukalele, and a give anything a go attitude. We were a motley crue, but one i wouldnt change for the world.

We spent four days eating, acclimatising, panic buying thermal underwear and 80s retro clothing (cool cold weather gear is hard to come by in Leh), and before we knew it (and indeed perhaps before we were properly prepared) we set off for the village of Stok, in the shadow of one bloody big mountain. To be precise Stok Kangri is 6153 metres above sea level (we heard some fat lame celebrities climbed Kilamanjaro - which is a measly 4600m), a good thousand metres higher than we have ever been before.

We set off along our arduous journey feeling more than a little like we were involved in some sort of Lord of the Rings type story, such tiny measly humans attempting such a magnificent mountain. We passed buddhist carved stones, wild mountain Yaks, and were passed ourselves by our troupe of ten ponies carrying our gear. The first couple of hours were nothing but sweaty, breathless and hot, but the real adventure began when we had to cross two glacier melt-rivers. As we had set off rather later than planned these would-be streams had turned from placid hop-able rivers to raging angry beasts. Keith ian and I decided we would attempt to follow a guide and simply jump over rocks. This was unwise. We got stuck. With our tails between our legs we returned the way we had come and allowed our assistant guide Imi to drag us across, successfully for Keith and I but rather more painfully for Ian who took a fast moving boulder to the knee.

The second river was even worse, waist deep and more like white water rapids than the stream most encounter earlier in the morning. A rope was constructed for us to hold onto and drag ourselves across, all made it with minor injuries for their troubles, cuts and bruises courtesy of the stones and rocks being smashed along underfoot. The guides followed and as the last crossed his foot slipped and he was dragged under, held up by a hand and a neck against the rope. Hearts in mouths we watched hopelessly as the other guides brought him safely to shore, dripping wet and carrying our now soggy valuables.

Adrenaline carried us through to our first campsite at 4200 metres, then altitude sickness struck. I beleive it was only the Diamox (altitidue sickness medication) that pulled me through, which i continued to take throughout the trip in order to simply breathe. Apparently their use is somewhat controversial, but I was doing all i could to make it to the top.

The next day we only had to manage 3 hours of trekking, but as can be expected this was pretty tough going once again as we had to climb to base camp, 5000 metres high. The walk passed without major incident, marmot spotting aside, but upon reaching the camp it was Kate's turn to be taken ill. Stubborn as ever she refused the Diamox insisting she would be alright, but eventually yielded to the power of the medicine. Feeling rather stressed about what was ahead of us the whole group made it to the top of the first leg of the next days trek, up 'small pass', which quite literally took our breath away. The view of the imposing peak was too much for Ian, already struggling with a smashed up knee, the sheer size was simply too much for him and he was out. Not to be convinced otherwise, 8 had become 7.

We tried to get to sleep by 6 for the midnight start but this was asking too much considering the biting cold and severe lack of oxygen, and so only fretful bursts of sleep were had by all of the group. 12.15am came all too quickly, and with shaking limbs and chattering teeth we got into as many layers as possible and forced down our only meal for the 15 hour adventure ahead; a simple bowl of porridge.Tearfully Ben and Cat announced that they too had succumbed to the horrible effects of high altitude, and couldnt make it with us. Sadly we couldnt convince them to wait another day, and 8 was now 5.

We slowly and silently reatraced our steps over the small pass in the dark, hired headtorches feebly lighting the way along the thin dusty path, and started off into paths unknown, across two small glaciers and into the bleakest looking campsite I have ever seen; advanced base camp at the adge of an enourmous glacier. What followed was like a new version of Dante's hell, or the hardest most extreme obstacle course ever created.

First we had to get suited and booted with Ice axes, ice boots, cramp ons and mitts and stomped our way over the thick ice of the glacier for a long and arduos hour. I wish i could say the hardest part was over, but it had only just begun. The view of the peak looked deceptively close, but we were still 6 long hours away from the top. By now we were all struggling to breathe and so had to tread painfully slowly up the second hurdle, the rockfall/scree section of the climb, sending rocks crashing belwo us. Morale remained high and the team pushed each other on, but even so we had to rest every 5 metres for a good 2 minutes simply to be able to breathe.

Next up was the snowfield, an all fours scramble in places and extremely steep, fearfully we plodded up with jelly legs liable to give way any minute to send us falling down the mountain. To say we were scared doesnt even begin to cover it. Now firmly at the back of the group I was really struggling to go on, but sheer determination and the influence of Kates encouragement kept me going. Kate may be small but she is one incredible climber, barely a moan left her breathe the entire time and she soldiered on as if simply walking a small hill (I dont want to take anything away from her, obviously she found it tough as well but she was amazing!).

The peak was nearly within our grasp, relatively speaking anyway, as something that looked so close still took another two heartbreaking muscle wrenching hours to get close to. Keith and Tina were sat 10 metres from the top and cheered the rest of us on along a decidedly wobbly ridgetop. I should mention the views at this point (the photos will one day be uploaded when I find some decent internet), they were simply the most amazing sight I have ever seen. Miles upon miles upon miles of sky-reaching snow peaks, mist rolling across whole mountain ranges and the clouds firmly below us.

The five of us and our three guides went to the summit together as we had started, as a great team all very proud of ourselves and each other. At this point the exhaustion and emotions got the better of several of us and tears were free flowing (I will admit to being one of them) as we hugged and cheered on top of the world. Having given literally everything last ounce of energy we had to get up to the top, and armed only with sweets and biscuits, we had climbed for 8 and a half hours, and now faced the hideous task of descending the route we had just come up.

The descent was utterly savage. No longer out of breath, but out of all energy we stumbled our way down, falling and slipping down the snow field with only our ice axes as brakes. Executed gracefully by our guides this apparetly easy slide was not so well performed by me. Half way down a cramp on came loose and stabbed me in the leg. This was the final straw for yours truly, with no energy and emotions in tatters I had a minor mental breakdown. Insisting i would sleep in the snow until energy returned, I will be eternally grateful to kate who managed to coaxe me down the mountain, stuffing chocolate into my mouth and filling my head with images of a tent (never before have we longed to be in a tent so much!). Five grueling hours later and we eventually made it back to base camp, exhasuted beyond imagination, and fell happily into the outstretched arms of our fellow group members who amazingly meeted us laden with kitkats beer and fres water.

We had done it. The hardest thing we have, and probably will ever do. I cant say I enjoyed it at the time, but the sense of acheivement we now have will go untouched. We made it to the top of the world, and will probably float up there for some time to come!