I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from my brow, and grasped the rusted metal bar that had been drilled into the rock face. Above me, my brother had just disappeared over the top of the mountain. My heart was hammering through my chest. The mandolin in my backpack shifted slightly as I put my weight onto the makeshift ladder. Ahead of me, a cloudy glacial lake shone in the sunlight. I was on my way to a cabin 2,200 metres above sea level in the Swiss Alps to play a concert. The crowd was waiting. The gig was sold out. We could not fail.