At last I feel I have some time to report on the detail of my climb to the summit of Mount Everest. I'm sorry about the delay in this.
On the 22nd May we four, myself, Greg, Ray and Nadir had moved up from basecamp to camp two in one long haul...having moved up from Pangboche down valley over two days to basecamp with one rest day there afterwards.
We expected a rest day at camp two, then to move onto three, start supplementary oxygen on arrival there (to compensate for not having previously slept at that level}, then to move up to the col,camp four next day, then rest there a full day before finally going for it on the 27th.
However, late in the afternoon of 23rd, our "rest day", we heard from Henry that the weather forecast had changed dramatically, and that strong summit winds would hit from 26th onwards, and appeared to be threatening the end of the season altogether.
IF WE WANTED A TRY AT THE SUMMIT IT WAS NOW OR NEVER, BASICALLY.
These were serious times. We were hardly recovered/hydrated from the long day before.
In the end, with little realistic alternative, we had to pack up ASAP and set off up towards the Lhotse face that evening. At this time the recently victorious Aussies and Andre were dribbling one by one into camp two, and scenes were chaotic as we congratulated them, grabbed masks from them, and simultaneously made hard decisions about what to carry ourselves up the hill. All the sherpas on site were exhausted from just coming down, of course,and there was nobody available to help us with our burdens.
Thus I set off carrying a heavy pack, wearing my downsuit and breathing oxygen through a mask clamped tight on my face. It was 5 o'clock, warm in the suit, and I was almost in tears as dear Andre hugged me and urged me to be positive about it all. At that time I felt I had a very small chance of summiting, and I think the others felt the same. All our plans were upside down.
I plodded slowly up to the foot of the Lhotse face, overtaken by Sherpas trying to meet their late-returning clients down from summit attempts. Some we met looked like automatons, the living dead. I felt little better.

It took me until 7 p.m. to reach the foot of the wall proper,getting dark. It was a formidable steep climb to take on in the gloom, just a head-torch to guide us, each. There was wavering, considerably so, but between us we helped persuade each other onwards, steeply, soon up into the night. It was cold, but not very windy, so that was manageable!
I radioed Henry,and in those minutes I was left well behind the others(again), picking my way up, their torches slowly moving out of sight.
Up and up I went, heaving up on the fixed ropes more than I'd like, skittering crampons on the ice with uncertain feet.
With horror,over the next few hours I began to realise that my torch batteries were fading, slowly, but definitely. They were NOT the longer-acting, cold-resistant lithium types, which I'd intended to use only on summit night etc!!
At one stage, I thought I was catching Nadir up, and I screamed at him with my hoarse throat to wait as I'd need his light to help me change my batteries, but he seemed not to hear, and eventually accelerated out of sight. I almost wept.
As the glimmer of light finally became unuseable I had to stop on the 60 degree slope, get my rucsac off, secure it, find some fresh batteries from deep inside the sac, dismantle the torch, fit the new batteries by feel, then get back to the ascent.
It got colder. I nearly dropped my helmet. I then DID drop the torch, stupidly, but luckily it stopped in a patch of softer snow some 50m below. If it hadn't done that, I certainly wouldn't have later summited...such small things make a difference.
So, I went slowly back down to the glowing torch, even more slowly back up, then couldn't fathom how to open the torch to access the batteries inside etc.Eventually I used a lighter to briefly show me how to dismantle the torch etc. It was pitch black. I felt very lonely and small at that time. I was a bit frightened. I got on with it, and it was SUCH a relief when I got the old batteries out, and saw how much easier the route seemed with a bright white light blasting out again . Suddenly the face looked doable again.

Eventually I reached the 'lower" camp three tents in about 5 hours, but we had to find the "upper" camp three tents,several hundred metres higher, and I didn't do so until around 2 a.m.
Identifying the correct tents was impossible in the dark, there were no clear verbal intructions,and no obvious identifying markings. I found Nadir in a tent with a small supply of oxygen, for a couple of hours at most at a very low flow rate, but there was no stove. Ray and Greg had found neither, and plumped for a cold, thirsty,night's attempt at sleep. Nadir and I managed a couple of hours at best, lying down with a few puffs of our possibly "stolen" oxygen, guiltily.
Once it was light, we made further efforts to find one of our proper, stocked tents, then we started an attempted brew.
Four of our Sherpa team were due up anytime to help us move our gear and ourselves to the col ASAP, with a view to setting off for the summit on the same evening. Awesomely far away it seemed right then.

To be continued!