The cloud forests of Papua New Guinea are rather ‘other worldly’ at the best of times, yet at 4 am they seem infinitely more alien. Cunningly, I had slept in my clothes, thus avoiding one of the hurdles of rising in the cold and dew of pre-dawn! In the blackness I fumbled at the laces of my dank boots and tried not to wake my snoring companions curled beneath their blankets. The forest was strangely silent, far removed from the choral strains of the frogs and insects that had sung me to sleep. Even the winking fire flies had snuffed out their lanterns and seemed to have vanished. A light mist was falling, adding a new layer of dampness to my skin as I stepped out from the shelter of our bush camp tarpaulin.

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