There is no dignified way to come off a mountain in the dark, with a howling gale gusting up to 60km/h, on a perilously steep descent with uncertain footing, fighting your way through chest-high fynbos.

Your mode of perambulation is like an 18-month-old late-walking baby, who stands up for the first time, and lurches from place to place, on the very edge of balance, yet miraculously remains upright.