The moment will arrive in New Zealand this evening. At 5.45pm, it will be precisely 60 years since a 33-year-old Ed Hillary found himself quite literally on top of the world.
The summit of Mt Everest surprised him, actually, even though it was a goal so long fought for, so keenly sought. He would say later that he suddenly noticed the ground was no longer rising but falling away in front of him and - well, let him tell the story - "a few more whacks of the ice axe in the firm snow, and we stood on top". It was 11.30am local time and the sun had already set in the land of Hillary's birth. But it was just rising on a brilliant career.
The first significant anniversary of the ascent since the death of the man who became Sir Ed is tinged with only a little sadness. But fittingly in a small gallery at Auckland Museum, an exhibition remembers what it calls his "enduring legacy".
There are sights that have become familiar over the past half century: that ice axe, made by Claudius Simond at Chamonix in the French Alps, its handle of European ash burnished honey-gold by time, the forged steel head and spike scrubbed clean by the ice it has cut; a beautiful Buddhist tanka - a devotional artwork - painted by Kappa Kalden of Khumjung (and, aptly, restored by Ed's daughter, Sarah, a noted conservator); the expedition diary; a piece of grey-green rock from the summit, that Ed brought back for his mum.