After a couple of days of taking it easy we thought we should check out the national park itself. A swiss couple were having a go at the summit, so we decided to hitch a ride with them to the lagoon, the idea being to hike around the lagoon, see the beautiful snow capped volcanoe from the bottom, and then get a lift back to the main road to cathc a bus back to the farm. Their guide persuaded us it would be much more exiting to get to the refuge where hikers spend the night before attempting the summit at 1am the next morning, and perhaps see some glaciers. Also more chance of finding a lift back he said. For some inexlicable reason (perhaps the glorious weather down near the lagoon) we let ourselves get talked into this idea, only to suddenly find ourselves completely underdressed (beth in sandles and socks, neither of us in waterproof trousers) in a blizzard at some 4000km altitude. One of those moments of slow panic / dread as everyone around us put on their full on cramp ons, snow gear and basically look like their about to tackel everest. We decided to sack off the stupid idea of going higher and seeing glaciers get to lower altitudes as fast as possible. Within a few minutes we were both freezing, cheeks burning, and to make it worse a couple of vehicles passed by and didn´t stop. One of those feelings of slow panic-dread and visions of it getting dark and us being lost, with little but a pack of peanuts in our bag, no map, no compass, having to camp overnight with no shelter, getting attacked by wild horses roaming the landscape or dying on route. Luckily within half an hour a car of sympathetic americans stopped who said we reminded them of their daughters and gave us a lift back to civilisation.