It was tough going as not only was it all very steep, but the increasing altitude began making it more difficult to breathe. Any exertion left you literally gasping for breath and with your heart racing. It was necessary to stop frequently for rests. One advantage was that we no longer had the bugs to annoy us as it was too high for them. 

I was really surprised that I kept up with the middle section as I had expected that I would struggle and be at the back of the pack, especially as we got to the really hard part. But my training on the Med Steps in Gibraltar paid off and I just told myself that this was exactly the same and I knew I could do it. 

I also developed a system that seemed to work pretty well for me. Rather than keep walking until I could walk no more and having a long rest, as some were, I took 50 paces then stopped for a short break to get my breathing under control – then another 50 paces with a short stop. Occasionally, I took a longer break to give my heart rate a chance to recover and to take photos of the amazing mountains all around us. 

By now, we were deep into the heart of the Andes and there were rugged peaks every way you turned. I was totally in awe of the majesty of the mountains and, unlike the more rounded, softer peaks of the mountains in Europe these were much more jagged and sharp looking. According to our guide, this is because the Andes are a young mountain range by comparison, so they haven’t had the same time for erosion to smooth them off.  

Half-way through the afternoon, we got to see the pass that meant the top of our hike for the day – we were assured that afterwards, it was all downhill to the camp. Although we kept walking, it never seemed to get any closer! Of our group of 5, Ben had lagged behind and Chris (who was also in the Galapagos Islands with us) and I kept leap-frogging each other. We started to hike more together and kept each other going. 

By now the climb was even steeper and my system had gradually dropped to 40 paces and a breather, then 30 paces and a breather, 20 paces and a breather and finally 10 paces and a breather. As we got close to the top of the pass, we could hear those that got there before us cheering us on, but even though we were so close, we still had to stop after each set of 10 paces. Chris and I decided we would stick together and arrive at the pass at the same time, so we took our final breather then our final 10 paces and reached the top where high fives and hugs all round were in order.

The view was spectacular and took your breath away almost as effectively as the thin air. We took the necessary photos, next to the sign and with arms out poses in front of the drops and I gazed around me at the valleys on both sides of the pass. 

The official name of the pass is Warmiwanuska but it’s called Dead Woman’s Pass, not because any women had died there, but because the formation of the rocks looked like a woman lying on her back. 

As I gazed at mountain peaks after mountain peaks and down at the path we had just climbed, and saw how far we had travelled, I realised the enormous achievement. I had done it! I had successfully climbed Dead Woman’s Pass and I was suddenly overcome with emotion and burst into tears. I sobbed happy tears. Proud tears. And I just took in the monumental moment.