Somewhere, between the jamboree of Huaraz, the desolation of rocky sites imbued with the breath of the Incas, and a valley where mad cows reign, two headlamps and a Bulgarian flag trace their way across the white canvas of the Alpamayo.
The strategy is atypical. The story sinks into darkness. A few metres below the summit, a clock counts down danger as rays crack the midday sky. A true adventure with an aftertaste of experience and Nutella.