With 11 huts spread evenly along the route, and never more than five hours' hike apart, even the least ambitious walker is guaranteed a place of refuge for the night. The huts, little more than shacks equipped with a stove, tables and two-tier wooden bunks (minus mattresses) lining the walls, do get crowded, however, and walkers are advised to carry tents in case they are full.

A night under canvas, although colder, can help restore some sanity and privacy a few days into the trek, as activity in the huts can be frenetic. Imagine 20-odd hikers sharing the same space, cooking, organizing backpacks and bedding down, all in torchlight. Add to that the heady aroma of dozens of pairs of sweaty socks drying by the fire and you'll start building a fair picture of what it is like.

Most walkers start the track in the north, at Cradle Mountain's visitors center, where they are encouraged to register with the park ranger service as a safety precaution. From there, the route, much of it boardwalked and all of it excellently signposted, crosses heath before rising sharply toward the cliffs of Cradle Mountain, which stands proud at 5,068 feet. Like all the peaks along the route, however, the climb to the summit is off a side track and purely optional.

Cradle Mountain's dolerite columns, formed 175 million years ago and offering an adrenaline-pumping climb, are typical of the majestic summits that are dotted along the main path. Other peaks, such as Mount Oakleigh (4,547 feet), Tasmania's highest Mount Ossa (5,305 feet) and Barn Bluff (5,114 feet), are all tantalizingly close enough to bag en route while leaving your 30 pound-plus rucksack at the side of the trail.

The first day of the walk, which skirts Cradle Mountain's glacial lakes and crosses boggy, open moorland, takes a good five hours and involves some steep climbs, even if you bypass the summit. Most walkers spend their first night in Waterfall Valley Hut, set in a picturesque coppice, and are lulled to sleep by the sound of fresh icy water cascading into deep gullies. As night falls, thousands of stars prick their way though the jet black sky. On the ground, bushtail possums venture to the hut's door to poke around unattended rucksacks, and spotted-tailed quolls —Tasmania's tiny wildcat — can be seen in torchlight hunting mice.

From Waterfall Valley, the numbers start thinning out as some walkers opt to trek beyond the next hut, Lake Windermere, and cover more ground. The track passes through undulating heathland, tranquil pine forests and lush rainforests, verdant with mosses and ferns and echoing with the sound of rosellas and cockatoos.