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I was nervous. I'd had my temperature taken for Ebola no less than 6 times in the space of an hour as I crossed the border from Rwanda into the Democratic Republic of Congo and I was currently sat in the back of an truck with armed guards following behind driving through Goma, somewhere which I'd noted was on the Foreign Commonwealth Office 'advise against all but essential travel' list. Why? That's what I'd been asked by more than one person. One word - Nyiragongo. One of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world and I was going to be spending a night sleeping at the crater. After a short journey through chaotic Goma at the trailhead the rangers check my permit and allocate me a porter who will carry part of my extra necessities including five litres of water for the steep climb ahead. I stay close to the armed ranger heading up the front of the group who looks far less worried than I do about what's ahead. It's a steep climb to start which I'm told only worsens. It's warm, humid and the dense forest complete with biting ants and snakes I'd encountered within the first hour had made for slow progress. On more than one occasion I question if another hike was a good idea, my legs still aching from summiting Kilimanjaro a week earlier. Glad to leave the dense forest and experience cooler temperatures the trail clears to volcanic lava rocks but the steepness increases and I am scrambling and heaving my body weight against the rocks, some jagged and sharp and other parts smooth, polished lava. I've been doing this for 4 hours but it seems longer. I'm told it's 45 mins to the summit but all I can think about is my bladder from the litres of water I'd consumed, whether I packed blister plasters and sleep. Just then it rains. Not just rain, this is freak rain and the trail turns into a waterfall. The ranger makes a dash for shelter and I find myself in a leaky wooden shed with a partly collapsed roof with one armed rangers, a number of chain smoking porters and three other equally disgruntled tourists, with the rest of the group somewhere a few hundred feet below on the edge of giving up. As the rain eases the ranger suggests it's a good idea to move so I follow. My waterproofs aren't waterproof and I am cold and damp but as rain trickles down my neck, I look up to shake off the droplets and I see the cabins. They are more like corrugated metal sheds than cabins but this means one thing, the summit! I forget the rain and clamber upwards moving faster to get a prime real estate spot at the edge of the crater. As I reach the top the clouds clear and I see Nyiragongo. Bubbling spewing lava and I'm here, I made it to one of the world's most dangerous volcanos! As I sit memorised by the orange glow I feel the heat from the volcano warming me up and drying off my damp clothes I have no regrets. Tonight I'm spending on Nyiragongo and the descent seems an eternity away.