Approaching the mountain hut, I see quite a few vehicles. Caravans and camper vans. As I walk past, there’s a body in a sleeping bag by the track. A few folk milling about. A dog gallops around. A half full pint glass of ale rests in the top of a gas cylinder, rocking in the breeze. Once round the other side I see quite a congregation at the tables out the back. Looks like they had a good night.