Winter 1998. First contact with high altitudes. My breath was short, my legs were heavy, I no longer knew why I was still moving forward. I raised my eyes .and saw that the slope was getting less steep. Suddenly it all came back to me. I am in Mexico, at the peak of the highest volcano in North America, the Pico d’Orizaba (5,770 m).

This climb did not respect the rules for acclimatisation given that I did not know them then. At the summit, the feelings of effort and going beyond my limits tasted glorious. My addiction to mountains was now started.