Well, that was a strange night. After the fire we experienced a whole load of different emotions from stunned silences, to euphoria that we were all okay, to action as we moved the pots and food supplies to the safe patch of grass. Amazingly within a short space of time the porters had erected tents and the cooks were prepping food. The fires were still burning in the mountains around us flooding the skies orange. One of the group, Christine led a group meditation which helped to calm and focus us all. It was a special moment sat in a circle together with the land smouldering around us.

Once again a huge meal seemed to appear from nowhere and as we ate the locals who had only an hour or so ago had saved our lives were singing and playing music. With the drums, singing, celebration and fire I couldn’t help think of the end of The Return of the Jedi (the version that didn’t have Hayden Christensen in though, obviously).

The difficult decision had to be made to abandon the trek to the top of Pic Boby and instead leave at first light to walk back out of the National Park to safety. This would be the trek that had been planned for us to do over the next 2 days…but we would now do in a day.

None of us really felt like sleep and with some trepidation about the fire returning many of us decided to stick together in the main communal tent creating a sleepover atmosphere…with the accompanying farting and snoring. We had come a long way from the strangers making small talk at Heathrow less than a week before.

We didn’t sleep much… we awoke around 4:30….when Nik and I took a joint trip to the toilet. Still don’t know how she managed to deal with everything the day before given how ill she had been. Incidentally it is much harder to go to toilet behind a bush when all of the bushes have burned away.

After a quick breakfast we headed off. It was very strange walking through an alien landscape of scorched earth. The black, charred terrain stretched for miles in all directions. The macabre sights of the occasional incinerated rat or gecko with missing  or burnt limbs brought the devastation to all life in the area and how lucky we had been.

The trek took us through some amazing rocks with some impressive views. Conversations flowed to keep us going flipping from subject to subject. We spent a long time discussing best gigs we’d been to. There were some great stories Nicky’s Springsteen and the mob story was a winner although bonus points for Helen.. After saying she hadn’t been to many gigs other than local pub bands she casually threw out that she’d seen Queen as a teenager..and partied into the night with Freddy and the band after the gig. Flash!

The route out of the park was actually really well signed with blue arrows pointing the way…something we had struggled with on UK mountains. Even the devastated and isolated Malagasy massive is better signposted than Snowdon.

We thought we were making pretty good time with an impressive pace.until the porters one by one trotted past us carring huge bags, equipment and live chickens….barefoot (the porters not the chickens)

The route eventually took us into unburnt territory with grass and some more amazing wildlife. There were huge colourful grasshoppers  that looked like a child’s crayon drawing of a giant insect.

After 10 hours and over 43,000 steps we made it out of the camp. We had a truck come to pick us up to make the final part of the journey to our camp site.

We had only been away from basic plumbing for a few days but it had been so intense and eventful that the camp felt like unbelievable luxury.

There were flushing toilets to be used, cold beers to be drunk…and much, much Elvis to be sung.

We needed it after too much Burning Love as feeling All Shook Up but that One Night will be Always on my Mind.