Ben Nevis

Bright and early on a Friday morning, we all gathered at various points around Oxford waiting to catch the Bus to Heathrow. I say all, but two of us were missing - Duncan (our driver once we got to Scotland) had, in a moment of inspired genius realised that car hire companies tend to insist you have a driving licence with you to show them, rather than to just take your word you had one so had gone home to collect his. Gary was just late and came jogging over the horizon mere seconds before the bus appeared.

The journey to Heathrow itself was uneventful, so after piling off the bus we made our way to the wrong check in queue where we waited patiently (patiently? Matt?) in line for a flight that wasn't ours before being pointed in the direction of the right queue for us to stand patiently in. As we headed for the baggage check we discovered we were behind none other than Mr Bob Geldof, who showed what a true professional he is by remaining oblivious to our pointing, staring and childish giggling.

After a flight which lived up to none of my expectations of ending early in a ball of flames or terror filled plummet, we arrived at Glasgow. Despatching Duncan and Sarah to see if their charm could get our car early proved not to be the strategic success we hoped for so with an hour to kill we headed for Starbucks and invested a not inconsiderable sum in large skinny steamed milk lattes with hazlenut syrup.

Duncan clambered into the driving seat of his formula one car and the rest of settled into the back of the people carrier we had hired as our transport to Fort William. The journey took us through beautiful scenery, an experience which closet phone geek Gary was kind enough to share with others via text message. Eventually our participation in Duncan's race driver fantasies came to an end and we arrived at our hostel in one piece. A quick wash, a quick change, a quick announcement from Duncan that he was leaving Blackwells and we were out the door and in the pub for 'grub and grog'. At around six thirty pm (ok, so maybe a bit later….) Sarah and Emily decided it was past their bedtime and headed back to the hostel where the rest of us joined them later for some Sex in the City. (Steady this is a family website. Ed.)

We awoke to find that Emily had been eaten by her duvet during the night! After a dramatic rescue, we all headed off for some food of our own and sought out a full Scottish Breakfast an apparently easy task that turned out to be a lot harder than expected - but eventually we found a hotel to load up on grease in. This done we drove - after a heated debate lead by the Pedestrian faction of our group against this decision - to the foot of Ben Nevis. (After the complicated manoeuvres required to extricate our vehicle from the tiny hotel car park…).

The weather gods were once again smiling on us, and despite all the dire warnings we had received predicting atrocious Scottish weather, the sun was almost out, the air was cool, not a rain cloud in sight…Perfect walking weather in fact. Our progress was good and we all made it up in reasonable time - I even managed it without medical assistance, which was a bonus. At the top, we admired the view - what there was of it - and ate our packed lunches as we shivered in the snow. To a chorus of mobile phone rings - damn them all - we began our descent.

It was at this point that we spotted the escapee from the local loony bin. A man with exceedingly leathery skin running (yes, running!) his way up the mountain, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a smile. Something for us all to strive towards…

The last hour of the journey was painful to say the least, but the sense of achievement and pride kept us going. (Well, that and the thought of all the beer that was waiting at the bottom.)

After showers and a change of clothes, we walked, limped, hobbled and very nearly crawled to The Ben Nevis for celebratory drinks and food. For some reason we seemed to amuse the locals (who I think thought the boys were gay) that shared the bar with us as we celebrated for as long as we could manage before dragging ourselves back to the hotel and the joy of Gary's tight white pant's. (That is your last warning. Ed.)

Rachel 'has anyone seen my new car' Chandler