Status Updates From Eight Feet in the Andes: Tr...

I quailed at the thought of putting on clothes that had frozen solid. 'You don't enjoy all of travelling, do you?' asked Rachel maliciously, watching me hammer the ice off my jeans before struggling into them.

There was no stirring of a breeze, no whisper of running water: the stillness was so unflawed that it seemed the sovereign moon, floating high, must have put a spell on our whole world.