Ali had suggested a walk over the ‘Black Glacier’ near the homestay, a perilous hike over shifting ground, moving rocks and treacherous ice. It sounded like something from Lord of the Rings, so I agreed to go with him (Helen was exhausted from the previous day so enjoyed a leisurely day without me). The hike was slightly less dangerous than described – no orcs or gollums emerged to attack us – but fascinating nonetheless. The glacier is mostly covered in sand, small rocks and boulders, so sighting ice is not particularly easy, but loud cracks remind you that it’s shifting, rather meanacingly,  beneath you. It wasn’t a genteel walk in the park. In combination with the heat and the altitude, it proved to be quite an exhausting affair – in places you did literally have to leap from boulder to boulder to get anywhere (glad we left Helen behind as she’d have hated it). We made it over the other side and walked down to Borith Lake, a small tarn serviced by a couple of restaurants and a few pedalos and kayaks. I hired a kayak for an hour, paddled out to the centre and let myself drift with hands in the cold, cold water – it was utter bliss.