I find myself once more sat in a wooden mountain hut, several thousand metres above sea level, with the calls of Marmottes battling against the incessant jingle of cow bells. The windows in front of me are rattling in the breeze, and I feel I’m in some bizarre Western-cum-Heidi extravangza, with the senses overwhelmed by the gentile and settled environment going about its daily business. This stands in stark contrast to my own mind which feels like it is tearing around the mountains like some daredevil BASE jumper, cahooning between gullies and trees, and generally behaving in a questionnable manner.