After a couple of hours sleep on a mattress on the floor, (at least it was my own mattress, even if I shared the room) and a carbohydrate-heavy breakfast, we moved on to the high camp. A further 730 metres up, we were now at 5,130 and the view was charming. Unlike the loo. Made up of a three stonewalls and a hole, it looked on to—not the endless, empty mountains but the door of our chalet. It had not been frequented by people with good aim.
I reminded myself that if all I wanted was quality loos I would still be loitering around The Savoy. It was better think about the excited ahead—behind the chalet, Huayna Potosi loomed. We would be there soon.
The news from the real world intruded even here—airports had been seized by the opposition and anti-government protests were speading.
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