It was the same morning routine... with a twist ?! Yeh yeh we got past the important bit, tea (you are welcome to disagree but in my point of view it's the elixir of life). And here is the twist: with the sweet Polish family we were prepping to go up Snowdon: waterproof... check, fleece... check, my beloved camera check and my Pa not check and the Old lady also not check, you must understand Molly and my Pa are kind of quantum entangled meaning where my Pa goes Molly goes and vice-verca. So once we had finished packing (and had said goodbye to the Czech family) we made our way up the Watkin path up the centre of the Snowdon horseshoe. A lot of the walk was up the stunning valley with the river leading you up to the largest mountain in England and Wales. Stunnin. Or as a good friend would say 'Bloody gorgeous'. I fell into the same trap as before... not turning on my mic (may as well get a phantom mic) ah 1st-world problems. We walked passed the derelict miners' barracks and up however many stone steps there are to the ridge and ultimately the scree. This was the second time I made it up the mountain the first time I took the easier miners track. Past the steps and on the scree I was honestly contemplating my decision to climb via the Watkin path - fact about me... on the side of a mountain very high I'm fine on a not so high mountain with scree I am hating my life at that point. Up on the café, I enjoyed a cuppa tea and a Cornish pasty. Again on the scree I was hating my decision and, to calm my nerve I was very quickly and repeatedly singing 'Emmylou Harris'. Off the scree I was feeling relieved as ever to be down from that bumming slippery and loose rock. The way back down passed in an enjoyable blur; chatting to the kids of the Polish couple, splashing in the water and occasionally having a bite to eat. That is how we concluded our trip up Snowdon.