A deep wound on the horizon bleeds violet into the darkness and while I can’t see a single creature, the thicket is alive with activity. I take a seat in a camping chair under the tarp, twist my matted hair into a crocodile clip, close my eyes and listen.

As we approached the mausoleum, our guide Nobu stopped to explain its significance. It's believed that Kobo Daishi did not die, but instead rests in his tomb in eternal meditation, awaiting the arrival of Miroku, the Buddha of the Future.

Legend has it that two Greek titans had a barney, hurled some rocks at each other, and a cluster of 24 islands were born. It’s ironic that after such a violent encounter, one of the most peaceful places in the world was created.

About 15,000ft above sea level, the highest point on this epic journey, I suddenly found myself fighting back tears. Fuelled by almonds, Jelly Babies and sheer determination, we had reached the Quchusqasa pass on the Ancascocha trail.

The message: “Ridley Scott is here!” pops up on my screen when I’m standing barefoot in a bathroom at the Berbere Palace Hotel. I abandon my half-finished make-up, grab my key card and head to the pool.

Teetering on the crater’s edge, we held our breath. The magma glowed in its chambers until suddenly, against a backdrop of twinkling stars, lava burst upwards with a jet-engine boom, sending molten rock hundreds of feet into the sky.

Forests of eucalyptus and pine, sweet blackberry bushes and towering prune trees framed my descent, and as I plunged into a pool of ice-cold mountain water, I knew I’d left all my preconceptions of Madeira at the top.