I bought a bike at last!

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It’s quite a frustrating thing to be such a procrastinator. I have dithered and changed decisions on which bike to buy about 10 times in the last few weeks. They’re surely all the same aren’t they? – I mean, as my daughter keeps telling me; a bike is just a bike isn’t it? I had certainly thought that myself a few weeks ago until I entered this whole new world. Then I learned about things like compact chainsets, SRAM against Campag, spacers, cleats, and whether aluminium is better than carbon. So like anything, cycling it seems is full of buzzwords and also downright snobbery. For example ‘roadies’ will not be seen dead in SPD shoes – I mean, why would they!!

So anyway, having decided that the Great British Bike Ride was going to be the challenge for now, a road bike was duly sought. I initially found a good forum online, called http://www.bikeradar.com , which is very helpful. I also decided to push the boat out as far as my budget is concerned. I can take advantage of something called the Cycle To Work Scheme, which means that you get tax and VAT relief on the cost of a new bicycle (and  accessories) from the Inland Revenue up to £1,000, and so I thought I would go right up to the limit, as if I can get up to 50% of that back, then that shouldn’t be sniffed at at all.

So on the forums if you type in “which road bike for £1,000?” you come up with a few common names, and these are Focus Cayo, Planet X SL Pro, Cannondale CAAD 8/9, and the Boardman Team Carbon. There are plenty others around this price range too (in fact there are hundreds), but these names seemed to consistently appear. As with anything of course, there are compromises to be made, and the choices don’t seem to narrow, they get harder, at least they do when you realise all of a sudden that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

It then appears that everyone says the most important thing you should do is to go and test ride the bikes and see which one feels best, which seems like the perfect advice. Then however you realise that of the above four bikes, two (Planet X and the Focus) are available online only, and the other (Boardman) is only sold via Halfords (who don’t let you test ride and are muppets in my experience anyway). Thus leaving the Cannondale as my only option to go and test. Then I had to go and find one, which proved very difficult. I then discovered that bike people have their favourites, and will try to sell you what they like as opposed to what you are really asking for. For example I came across (and was recommended) Evans Cycles, a nationwide store, and went to the Reading branch after phoning and telling them that I was interested in a Cannondale CAAD 8 or CAAD 9. When I got to the store however, I found that they did not in fact have a Cannondale for me to try, and so the sales guy tried to sell me a Raleigh instead, and for £1,200 too.

Now I will readily admit that I know very little so far about bikes. The world of SRAM Red and Cervelo are as yet unchartered territories for me. What I do know however is that the word ‘Raleigh’ for me is synonymous with something called ‘The Chopper’. For those who don’t know, The Chopper is a childs bike with big bull handlebars, that costs about £14.99 from Toys R Us , and is at best probably very dangerous. Now call me a brand snob if you like, but why should I listen to a sales guy who tells me that the shiny thing in front of me is worth parting with over a grand of my money for? What if someone laughs at me for God sake? What if, heaven forbid, someone says “nice Chopper”?. I decide however against my better judgement to go and ride the Raleigh. If you know your bikes then what I rode was the Avanti U6 Pro 2009.

So I set off in my very spandexy new cycle shorts (£14.99 from Argos – they are rubbish) and go for a spin, and am amazed. The bike goes like shit off a shovel, and I manage to propel myself around the roads of Reading like I was on a motorbike, or at least like I knew what I was doing. It was fun! I get back about 30 minutes later to the shop and am exhilirated. I can fly! Or at least I can ride scary bikes with 23mm scary tyres pumped up to 120psi. I also have no idea what I am doing with the gears. When I used to ride bikes (forty three gazillion years ago or thereabouts) they were called ‘racers’, and you had two shifters on the tube between the handlebars and the pedals, whatever that is called. Nowadays the gears are integrated into the brake levers, and are apparently designed to be counter-intuitive. I think the right brake lever controls the back brake but the front derailleur, and then vice versa. Or do I have that the wrong way round? Then you push the right lever in to move it into a harder gear, but the left lever in to give you an easier front ring. Probably.

Maybe that is all wrong, but it just serves to show you that it is a.) confusing, and b.) bloody difficult to cycle properly when you don’t know what you are doing. One minute I would be hurtling downhill and wanting to change up, and in pressing my brake lever inwards I would send it into gear 27 or something and my legs would spin so furiously I felt like a hamster on heat. Next I would be going uphill and try to change down, and it would go into something that I couldn’t have turned the pedals if I was going down a skislope. I learn later that the gear changers that I have been using are called “105”, and that they are a ‘pretty good groupset’ or something. Means nothing to me.

So I ask to try another bike for comparison purposes, and am given a Trek 1.5. Now the Trek has a ‘triple’, which for all you non-cyclists out there (hey, that includes me!) means that there are three rings at the front, thus giving you a wider range of gear options altogether. It is easy as a novice to think of the bike as a “27 speed”, but this is really just a misnoma – the number of useable gears with differences is not really very different on a double to a triple, it is about the number of teeth on the chainrings. This equates to ‘gear inches’ or ‘gear miles’ or something like that, and if you have a triple then the lowest gears are driven by a 30 tooth ring at the front, instead of a 34 tooth ring on a compact. Makes a big difference, apparently.

So I ride the Trek and find that it is very difficult to change between each of the three front rings. This is probably as I haven’t got a clue which lever does what, but pressing each in turn as randomly and as often as possible doesn’t seem to do a whole lot anyway, so I conclude that a triple is probably more complicated than I need or can handle. In any case, next to the Raleigh at least, I find the Trek dull and uninvolving. It feels a bit like, a bicycle or something. I get back to the shop and ask to be shown something different. And so then I was given a Bianchi. It was a Via Nirone 7 with Ultegra, for those of you who know your onions. And it rode like a dream, it was great. I think the much more seamless gearchanges helped, but nonetheless the bike felt much more involving and responsive. When I got back to the shop after about 30 minutes I tell the guy that the bike was great. He said “It’s  a Bianchi!” So I told him a few other things and they just elicited the same “It’s  a Bianchi!” response. This was very nice, but I wasn’t quite ready to do the high five and cartwheels across the floor thing yet, especially as the price tag on it was £1,300 this time.

So I hum and hah a bit more, and then just don’t know what to do, and I ask him about Cannondales again. He suggests that I go and talk to one of the other guys about them, as he ‘doesn’t like them’. Fair enough. I wait my turn in line and then get to hear from someone about how amazing the Cannondale CAAD9 is, but that no they don’t have them in stock, and it might be the end of May. I decide that I want a Cannondale if they are that good, but can’t wait that long, and so take my leave.

So to cut a long story short I spend the next week or so trying to find a Cannondale CAAD9, which proves really hard. It even took me on a two and half hour trip to Milton Keynes and back to someone who told me he had one in, for me to find he didn’t when I got there! So I thus went and bought myself a new iMac instead, so that was an expensive trip then! I found it even more frustrating that I can go and impulse buy an iMac, but can’t choose a bike for love nor money!

So last weekend I found one! A nice shiny new Cannondale CAAD9! It was in Oxford, and was great. It even had the colours I wanted (it comes in red, black, or Liquigas Team colours, which are sort of white, green and blue). I went and rode it, and it was fabulous! I rode it at the end of the day however, and by the time I got back from riding the shop was shutting, and so there wasn’t time to do the deal. I told the guy that I would come back the following day, but work took over, and so I googled a few things more the following night.  I then decided that I should email Heather and ask her to have the casting vote, as she knows a whole bunch more about bikes than I ever will. I tell her it is a choice between the Cannondale CAAD9 and the Planet X, expecting her to choose the CAAD9 over a bike she hadn’t heard of. So the reply came back “The Planet X for sure – you don’t want aluminum!”.

So that was that then, decision made. The very next morning I press the button on the internet and order me a shiny Planet X SL Pro Carbon SRAM Rival in white. I have never seen one let alone ridden one:) But they must be good right? And it isn’t even made of aluminum, so there. And if it is no good, then Heather will never live it down. All I need now is for it to arrive:) Piccie below:

White, isn't it?

So all I have to do now is buy myself some pedals, a helmet, a lock, some lights, a trip computer, some tyre levers, a backpack, some spare inner tubes, a pump, some bib shorts, some cycling shoe things with those clips on, and god knows what else. Erm, this could take me forever to even get down the end of the road and back at this rate! Oh well, it is fun………

Kilimanjaro, charitable donations, and blogging

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It is a funny thing this blogging business. Before I started doing it I had no idea what to do (still haven’t really:)), but most of all it has been an absolute blast to do. It has also been hard work, and lots of late night effort, caused mainly by a busy life, and also an incredibly frustrating typing speed. As I look back now and reflect (and I do, daily, if not hourly still) on all that transpired over the last nine or so months since I first decided to do it, a lot of things have happened to me. Some of them are related to the mountain specifically, others have quite frankly nothing to do with it, and some are jumbled up right there in the middle. I am acutely aware that my trip has also influenced some things that other people have done, and that is scary in a way, but also nice, whenever positive.

Some examples of the above are the charitable donations that I received. Bowel Cancer UK has received almost £1,200 as a result of my blog, and I am bloody proud of that. I am going to keep my Justgiving page open until the summer, when I will close it by putting some money in myself – thank you enormously again to all of the kind people who donated. The majority of these were from people close to me, but some also from people I did not even know. How amazing is that! My blog has received something like 4,000 views since I started, which is staggering to me. I am delighted beyond compare with that, and also each and every one of the comments that I have had has touched me. I want to keep the blog itself going now, despite the fact that I have been remiss in recent weeks in doing so. I also am so grateful for people like Paul and Darina, who I do not know from Adam, but they found my blog apparently. They are doing Kili in September this year, and I got a lovely donation from them the other day, which was hugely appreciated. Good luck to them on their adventure – if you want to follow their blog it is linked below:

http://mykilimanjarotrek.blogspot.com/

I have also been in touch with a mutual acquaintance from work who will be doing the mountain later this year. I wish John very well in his endeavours.

I miss so many things about the mountain, and I will not let it fade. I miss it, but won’t let it dominate – it is just what it is.

I have much to tell about bikes and the Three Peaks Challenge, but they can wait for another day.

Lala salama (or sleep well in Swahili).

The Three Peaks!

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OK so there had to be some mountains come back into my life before long didn’t there? Now I know that the Three Peaks are not exactly the biggest mountains on this whole planet, but it is a great challenge, pretty hard work, and it will be a whole lot of fun. So what is this all about then I hear you say?

Well, whilst I was on the mountain, one of the people who I work with (she can remain anonymous for now, although actually her name is Kerry:)) decided to suggest a Three Peaks Challenge for the members of our company. I think she also nominated me as ‘expedition leader’ since a.) I have a penchant for the odd hill or two, b.) She probably figuredthat if I was up for Kilimanjaro then the perils of the mountains of England, Scotland and Wales wouldn’t daunt me too much, and c.) I wasn’t there at the time so couldn’t object.

So after a week or so of regaling tales of my adventures to people who asked me about my recent exploits, (and regaling also to plenty who neither asked nor probably cared), the subject of the Three Peaks was raised. I so want to do this, and so I grasped the nettle and got on with organising it accordingly. For those of you who don’t know much about it, here are some facts and stuff, which is in fact it is an extract from the note that I sent around the office:

A.)   The Three Peaks Walk takes in the three highest peaks in Scotland, England and Wales. These are Ben Nevis (1,344 metres or 4,409 feet), Sca Fell (978 metres or 3,209 feet) and Snowdon (1,085 metres or 3,560 feet). We will do the mountains in that order.

B.)    It should be pointed out that this is literally a walk, and that there is no climbing involved. The paths are however tough, and involve a mild scramble in places.

C.)    The tradition is to complete the challenge within 24 hours. This is no mean feat, as the driving distance alone between the mountains is some 450 miles.  It is non-stop, and unless you manage to grab a few hours sleep between Ben Nevis and Sca Fell in the bus, you will be very tired by the end of it all. We will also have to drive 480 miles to Fort William on the way there alone.

D.)   Normally, Ben Nevis is a 6-8 hour trek. Sca Fell is normally 5 hours, and Snowdon also 5 hours. In order to do this within the time however, we will need to do Ben Nevis in 5 hours, Sca Fell in 4 hours, and Snowdon in 3.5 hours. It is therefore important for you to know that you will be ‘pushed’ (though not literally!!), and that it is against the clock. It is by no means a race, but we are as slow as our slowest person, and some of us (me very much included) want to beat the deadline, and time will be tight regardless. The driving distance to Sca Fell from Ben Nevis is seven hours, and from Sca Fell to Snowdon is four hours. If we do everything to plan without a hiccup of any kind we have 30 minutes to spare!

E.)    You are going to have to be fairly fit, and have some reasonable walking gear (including good boots) and waterproof clothing, amongst other things. There can be bad weather on the mountains at any time of year, and this coupled with not being ‘ready’ can end in trouble. We don’t want to be calling out Mountain Rescue for anyone, so please don’t attempt this if you are not fully committed and prepared!

F.)  If you manage to do this you need to know that you will complete approximately 10,000 feet, or 3,000m of ascent, during one day, and you will also cover in that same day approximately 26 miles, or 42km, of walking, the same distance as a marathon. It is really not therefore for the faint hearted or unfit.

So there we have it – another new adventure! It looks also like we are set for early July, which is really fast approaching – I am just trying to sort out the logistics of minibuses, driver, guide, food, accommodation etc etc. It will be fantastic. Although each hill is not huge by any means, to do 3,000m of ascent in one day and 26 miles walking is no mean feat. I shall have to get fit again – I have certainly let myself slide somewhat over the last few weeks, and waiting for myself dithering over bike choices most certainly doesn’t help!

More very soon –  I am back in blog mood now, so this will get more regular again. Thanks to Sky for his biking advice last week, and so if any more of you out there are Three Peaks fans then let me know – any and all comments/advice are much appreciated. In particular I would love to know whether we should start Ben Nevis at noon or 5pm, and why!……….

Oh and finally some new news here for those of you who like the spirit of all things adventurous – as you will no doubt know I met six other wonderful people on that mountain, and I have been swapping photos with both Heather and Caroline of late, which is fantastic. It keeps everything more than hugely alive. I also invited Heather and Caroline (and also Ronan, Kamal, Tayma and Tamara if you are reading this, then you are now hereby invited too) to come and do the Three Peaks with me, but both have other commitments and so it cannot happen this time, which is a shame. However…..Heather has invited me to come over to New York next month (or did I invite myself, who knows:)), but anyway I am thrilled and delighted to be going there. Apparently it will also involve going to see ‘The Yankees’ or something like that – and here was me thinking that New York was full of them anyway;)

Until maybe tomorrow, who knows….

So what about the (and beyond?) then….

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So having been rather quiet for a few days or so, whilst I reflect on life the universe and everything, I have been plotting adventures new. I shall tell you about those shortly.

Meantime I have been corresponding by email with a person whose son has been climbing Kili. He was doing the Pofu route (which I hadn’t heard of before, at least by name). This is the route that takes a longer route around and up the mountain, and then has you camping in the actual crater before summiting. That all sounds fairly hardcore, even to me.

So anyway, the person with whom I have been corresponding (I shan’t name them as I do not have their say so as of yet to do so) has obviously been nervously (big understatement there) waiting for updates from the son, and has happily been receiving them on a regular basis. It has made me think how I would feel if my daughter was doing it (it won’t be happening for my son I cannot imagine but you never know:)), and I totally understand what the emotions must be like.

Anyway I am absolutely delighted to tell you that he summited successfully yesterday. That is fantastic news, I am delighted for them both, proud parent and son alike. Apparently the only hiccups were a broken camera (thank goodness for mobile phone cameras then), and a bad case of sunburn from the summit itself.

I am hugely looking forward to hearing more of the adventures that he had, and if he is happy for me to do so then I will post them here in due course.

Meantime also I have been trying to figure out what to do next. And so I have:)

Well it couldn’t last too long could it? I mean the follow up?

For those people who know me well, then you will know that I occasionally suffer from a bout of impetuosity. In fact I am one of the most impulsive people I know:)

So for the last week or so I have been pondering the merits of renewing my gym membership as against buying a bike. The gym I have been to only a couple of times since I have been back, and as one of my other traits is getting bored (although I don’t have time for that these days), then it doesn’t have the appeal as much anymore. Whilst planning for the mountain I was very driven, surprising myself sometimes in fact, but now I need something to plan for. Something to drive me, motivate me, challenge me.

So I hit upon the idea of cycling to work. Now also for those of you who know me, and before you start guffawing away with howls of derisive laughter, I should tell you that I used to love riding bikes. OK so it was a long long time ago, but I used to do it a lot. Me and Col used to cycle through the pedestrian tunnel over to North Shields sometimes – it was probably about four miles or so! That was however when we were about 14.

So my office is about 7 miles away from my house, and I figured that on the days when it is not raining (so I could be actually very safe here) I could probably get there in about 40 minutes or so, hopefully. There are also about three different routes I could take, and so I started to decide which one to take. One of them involves a bit of off road, but is by far the most direct. The other two are quite different – the shorter one involves a fair few ups and downs, and might be a bit painful in places for a cycling novice like me. The other one probably adds a few miles on, but is almost entirely flat. The first bit is down fairly narrow lanes though and so if there are cars coming then it could be a bit hairy.

I narrow a number of choices down to a few bikes online without really knowing what I am looking for, but a Cannondale Bad Boy really takes my fancy, and is a snip at about £630. I then go to my local cycle shop and my head is spinning again. I could have  Trek for this money, and a Specialised for that money, or a Bianchi (wasn’t she in Eastenders?) something-or-other. Even if I had chosen a bike I could have chosen between about 30 different tyre types alone. I leave the shop none the wiser.

And so I buy myself a cycling magazine. Sorry if this is a long story by the way:)

So I still just cannot decide which bike to buy. There are (to follow:)) so many decisions to take about 53-39 chainsets, and doubles and triples, and Tiagra versus 105 and things that it will make your head spin. And that is after you decide between a hybrid, a sloping frame, aluminium or carbon and the like.

Anyway, I see an advert in the magazine as I am thumbing through, and it is for “the Great British Bike Ride”. I look at the website and it tells me that the ride is in September this year, and is 320 miles between Lands End and Twickenham in London, over 4 days. It is the first time it has been held in the UK, and it is for three different charities, all of whom I like a lot. So I think – why not, and go and immediately sign up!

I am so excited about this it is fantastic. I have a new adventure to plan!

Here are the details of the ride:

http://www.greatbritishbikeride.com/

Looks like no hybrid then, but a road bike, and a serious one. More decisions to come then, and a rigorous new fitness regime. 320 miles – gulp!!

My Certificate

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So a couple of people had asked me what the certificate is like, and so here is a picture of it. To say I treasure this is a bit like saying that I value breathing, or that I like beer, or I like Sunderland Football Club, or some other such ridiculous understatement.

You will see on there, amongst other things, pictures of the Senecia and Impatiens that we saw on the mountain. You will also see my Swahili name (I love being called that, and am considering having it tattooed somewhere, I mean seriously), and also the date and time of our summiting. The record here is also recorded in the big register at the Park Gate, for all time hopefully.

I will be getting this framed and put somewhere such that I can look at it for all time. Special it most certainly is:

Proud I am......

Why Climb Kilimanjaro?

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I thought that I should do a sort of “final post” thing here already, but it seems too early somehow. I have been back in the UK now for about 10 or so days, and the whole thing is still so close. Although to some extent, like any ‘holiday’ (ha), once you get back into work mode it seems very quickly like a long time ago, with this it will not fade, and I hope it never does. Having said that, I don’t want to become obsessive about it (again:)), and for it to take over my life. But it is also too big, too important, to let go of, and it won’t be happening anytime soon.

I have also been delighted by some of the comments that are being put onto here. That I find quite inspirational. It is fantastic for example to be able to help anyone, and if I can then I will, so please if you are reading this and are thinking about leaving comments, then do so – I promise to reply.

I’m also so pleased with how much attention the blog is getting generally – I used to get 10 hits a day if I was very lucky back in December or so – today I have received 240 so far! In fact pleased is a massive understatement –  I am doing cartwheels across the floor!

In the meantime I wanted to put up a few ‘post climb’ thoughts. How do you feel when you have been back a few days? What do people say to you? Is it an anticlimax?

So first a few thoughts, post-climb, as it were:

Well firstly I am still on an absolute high. Despite being thrown back into a very heavy work schedule, and also having a lot of ‘catching up’ to do generally, I am still buzzing. I didn’t go up the mountain to find anything in particular, but I certainly learnt a whole lot about “life, the universe, and everything”, as they say. I’ll try to capture those things separately in another post sometime soon.

Secondly it is great to be able to go through the photographs, all of them, good and bad ones. They all tell their own stories. I am very glad that I got the new camera, but wish to an extent that I had taken more shots, particularly of the flora and fauna. One of the amazing things about Kilimanjaro is the totally amazing variety of what you see. From forest to desert, from indigenous tropical flowers to alpine heathers, it is incredible. I love to be educated, and whilst on the mountain I found myself never able to learn enough about all that was in front of me. I found a world full of ‘impatiens kilimanjari’, of moss, heather, lobelia and senecia.

I will continue to pursue that knowledge – it fulfills me greatly. Kilimanjaro also takes you through five (yes five!!) climate zones. They are the forest (where we saw the moss and the monkeys, amongst other things) with 230cm of rain a year; the heath with its 150cm of rain; the moorland with 53cm and its lobelia and senecia; the alpine desert with 20cm and its helichrysums; and then the ice cap, with virtually no rain ever, but lichens and bunches of snow in our case. It is amazing to think back of being at (or immediately below) the equator, and then going through so much change in weather. To think that I was at a higher point when I reached the top than the aeroplane was that flew me into Tanzania puts it all into perspective.

Next there are the people who made this really happen, and I mean “really really” happen. You may recall this photo from a few posts ago, but here it is again:

These guys (Tayma and myself excepted) are all heroes....

So it would be more than remiss of me if I didn’t name them all, and so here we go:

The Porters:

Elibanki

Adson

Yasin

Rauld

Mnandi

Imanuel Mrema

Zamili

Hasani

Imanuel

Elisante

Raymond

Kevin (“Spiderman”)

Juma

Faustine

Edwin

Antony (also dishwasher)

Joseph (also dishwasher)

Frank (also waiter)

Ally (also waiter)

Omari (also cook)

Mauld (also assistant cook)

The Assistant Guides

Fredy

Samuel

Raymond

Guide

Deo

So with some of these guys we would pass like ships in the night , as they lugged our stuff up the mountain and catered to our every need. We exchanged the occasional “jambo”, “mambo” and “poa”, which was about as far as my Swahili would stretch. That makes me feel a bit ignorant – you guys were the best, and I admire every single one of you, enormously and incredibly gratefully. With the assistant guides and Deo, they all spoke our language, as they are required to for their qualifications for their jobs. I won’t stress again here what these guys did and how much they mean to me, but it is irreplaceable in my memory – unforgettable. Raymond in particular, at least for me (see my “summit” post) is just my hero, always: Raymond my friend, when we speak again, as I know we will, I want you to know that you have my undying respect and admiration, for all time.

It appears that I have whole lot more to add here, so I will continue this another day (and also try to answer the title question, which clearly I have failed to address altogether in this post) – in the meantime I thank everyone who is following this blog in these seemingly ever-increasing numbers. It is getting very big indeed – maybe I should keep it going for a little while yet – what does anyone think??

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers”

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We see each other for the final time this morning.  Heather, Caroline, Ronan and I sit and have breakfast, this time joined by Kevin, aka Spiderman, my trusty bag carrier all week.  He wanted to come and see us, and he hasn’t seen a breakfast of cornflakes, orange juice and scrambled eggs on toast before, but certainly seemed to enjoy it all!

Kevin is actually from Dar Es Salaam, about nine hours away by bus, and is here to earn a little money in a break from his studies. He has done the mountain four times, and tells me that he has had enough. It is too hard. I don’t blame him. Not only is he about a foot shorter than me, but must also be a good fifty pounds lighter (or make that eighty:)), and he has to carry bags the likes of mine (20kg or so) on his head all day up that mountain for $50 a week. I couldn’t carry my bag up there for a million dollars, just couldn’t do it. He has my utmost respect. He also tells me that the mountain scares him – he has already seen and heard of people dying up there. Now that is really not funny at all. We all enjoyed seeing him today though, and we swap email addresses and say we will keep in touch – I also gave him another little ‘bonus’ for being a great guy and also a good friend up there.

At 9am after Kevin leaves, Ronan and I say goodbye to Caroline and Heather. They are off on safari to the Serengeti, the Ngorogoro crater, and lots of other exotic places on a six day trip. I wish I was going with them, as I would dearly love to go to those places, and also because I shall miss them both – we spent a week on that mountain together and you cannot help but bond. We also kept together, the three of us, pretty much the entire way, and so we walked and shared the whole of Kilimanjaro together – that is a pretty special thing to have, certainly for me. I will look forward to hearing subsequent tales of their adventures and hope we can keep in touch. So to Caroline and Heather, if you are reading this – I miss you bunches, and hope you had a great time on safari and in Zanzibar, and also a good trip back to the States.

The fun and adventure was not quite totally over however for me, as I was due a visit by Raymond, the assistant guide who had got me up the mountain. He had asked if he could come and show me his house, and I was delighted to to say yes. So here is Raymond’s house:

Raymond outside his house in Arusha

Raymond had arrived with his brother, and Ronan and I were still together, so we both came along. It was quite a culture shock to see some of what amounted to the back streets of the suburbs of Arusha. Raymond bought Ronan and I Coca Cola to drink, and we were both surprised by the inside, pictured here:

Inside Raymond's House

His furniture and crockery and cabinets were not at all what I had expected, it was really quite amazing. He told Ronan and I that he plans to ‘find a wife’ and get married next year. I wish him so well – a nicer guy you could not meet.

He then took us on to look at his parent’s house, in the garden of which he is also building another house for himself. His parents have banana trees and some goats and not much else, but it was in a great secluded spot, and I loved getting the opportunity to see it – thank you so much Raymond.

Raymond's parents' kitchen, and their banana trees.

On the way there on a very rough road we went past what used to be Raymond’s school and also his local church. The place is probably a mile away from the main road, and I do not believe that (and Raymond confirmed this) that the children at the school had ever seen a white person before. The children excitedly swarmed around the car yelling “Mzungu” (meaning”white man” in Swahili) at Ronan and I. Had the kids been older than nine or so I actually might have been slightly initimidated there were so many of them, but instead it was totally charming in every way.

At Raymond's school. The local pastor and also his former schoolteacher are in the left of the shot too.

So the last two shots were the last two I took in Africa. The first is Raymond’s parents’ house as we were leaving:

A bit warmer here than up on the mountain....

The second is on the road back to Arusha town from the house. It was an experience just to be on this road, and made me stare wide-eyed at the surroundings, which were just amazing.

Pracitically my last image of the Arusha neighbourhood

From here we got back to the hotel in good time for a beer and some food. It was a very hot day, and I bade farewell to Ronan for the last time.

My taxi to the airport came at about 5pm and I was on my way out of Africa. I was very much wiser, extremely happy, and so grateful for all that my trip had brought to me. I could harp on about the trip back via a very hot, oppressive and unpleasant Nairobi Airport, but the story is irrelevant in the overall scheme of things. It passed, it was just something that had to be done to get me back to whatever ‘normal’ life was. I did however win a few games of ‘Oh Hell” over a few bottles of Tusker beer in the airport.

For the record, I landed back in the UK at Heathrow at 5.45am on Thursday 4th March 2010, just eleven days after leaving. Those eleven days changed my life forever – they couldn’t not do so, as much as anything because I wanted them to. There is a book which is a favourite of mine called “Illusions” by Richard Bach, and one of my two favourite quotes from the book is  ….” Every person, all the events of your life, are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.” I had chosen Kilimanjaro, or perhaps it chose me, one of the two. Either way, I had a choice what to with it, and still do now. I am very happy that I have that choice, and enormously lucky that I had the good fortune, good health, and support, to be able to climb Kilimanjaro.

I give thanks therefore to those few, those happy few, who I got to share this all with. And I get just as big a buzz, or maybe even an even bigger one, from those people who choose to put comments onto this blog. If I have helped just one person in a tiny way to get themselves up that mountain, or to realise some other ambition, then I am an even happier soul. But conclusions to be drawn from this are for next time – my job here is nearly done……………..

Back to Civilisation, sort of…

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Back to Civilisation – well Moshi Town and Arusha anyway

From the Marangu Gate we joined the remaining porters who were not staying on the mountain and joined the bus:

Still needed to fit 44 of us in here, and it didn’t smell quite as sweet as it did a week ago…

I had been looking forward to hearing the Kilimanjaro song since I first heard about it since several months ago, and Deo had told me on the way down that it would be sung on the bus. And it was – I do not currently have the ability to embed videos here apparently, but as soon as I fix this it will appear here in all its glory – I loved it – you may not, it was a kind of “you had to be there” sort of thing:)

On the way back to Arusha we stopped at Moshi town and had lunch at a great little restaurant  called Edwins I think.

There we were presented our certificates, and here is me getting mine from Deo:

This was a fantastically proud moment for me.

Deo put our ‘Swahili’ names on the certificates too, which was a nice touch.  I will be forever Bao bab – “the old tree” – that makes me rather proud and happy that. It is a beautiful and timeless memory, and as I look at my certificate in years to come (it will be framed and take pride of place somewhere) I will always see that name.

It is strange eating lunch in a restaurant (albeit a rather basic one in Moshi Town) when you have been in a tent for a week.  It is strange also just how quickly you get used to different conditions.  It was furthermore difficult to choose what to eat when you have eaten ferociously whatever was put in front of you for the last seven days. I chose a beefburger in the end, as it was at least ‘normal’ to me, although it did come served with a fried egg on top:)

Oh yes, and they had beer:) Which one to have??? Well Kilimanjaro of course!!!, At least for the first one, and then I tried some Tusker to follow., but just stuck to the two. It was just lunchtime after all, and there would be several more coming my way later that day for sure.  I think we will all also remember the restaurant for what Samuel, one of our assistant guides ate – a cows tongue, yep a whole one.   Looked like it had just been ripped out by the root, and there it sat on a huge board.  Heather installed as she called it a “modesty screen” of menus around him so she didn’t have to look at it. As Kamal was fond of saying ‘TIA’ (this is Africa) – gotta love it.

On the way back we to Arusha we got so many great views of the mountain – it was even more transfixing and compelling now than ever. Here are a couple I took from the window of the bus – it never looks the same on a photograph does it?

Didn't want to leave it behind......

Impossible to truly appreciate the scale until you have driven around the base of it for four hours....

We finally reached our hotel, the Outpost (Heather, Caroline, Ronan and I) at about 5pm, having dropped off Kamal, Tamara and Tayma at their place just beforehand.  The others went straight for that much needed shower, but I went to the garden, ordered me a beer (surprise surprise) and reflected on all that went before me.  I wish I could bottle that moment and have it forever.  Come to think of it, I believe I will have it forever.

Oh and talking about forever, that is how long I could have showered for.  My hair, what there is of it these days, which likes to be washed pretty much every day, or at worst every other day, didn’t seem to like the first half bottle of shampoo that I put on it.  Although I (and I believe all of us), had been pretty diligent with the wet wipes whilst away (oh and anyone reading this, thinking of doing Kili, needs to put wet wipes as way way up their list of essential items), there is no substitute for a good hot shower. I could have stayed under that water for half an hour, actually come to think of it, I think I did.

In the evening we were joined by Freddy for dinner, and also Alicia, one of Caroline’s friends who had just arrived at the hotel and was going off on Safari with her and Heather the following morning.  Kamal, Tamara and Tayma were supposed to join us, but they had to sort their luggage out for their own safari – they had not seen their luggage at all since arriving in Africa, and that made me realise how lucky I was.

After dinner it was very strange to sleep in a proper bed with a bathroom, which meant if you wanted to pee in the middle of the night you didn’t have to don three layers of clothes, hiking boots and a head torch in order to do so. What luxury. It again is strange how you very much get used to different conditions of sleeping in a tent and not having your creature comforts around you, and then as to just how luxuriously appointed the Outpost Lodge was now, when a week ago I was not really wanting to walk on the floor of my room without putting my shoes on.

I slept fantastically well. Tomorrow would be my last in Africa, and I had an invitation to go and see (the assistant guide) Raymond’s house nearby, which I really looked forward to. It would a great experience, and a very fitting way to spend my final day…………..

The mountain, the last day – 02/03/2010

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So for our final day on Kilimanjaro we are awoken at 6am without the customary tea in the tent.  I shall miss that from hereon in, even the sleeping in a tent part. We have a long way to go today however, (approx 22km), and it is necessary to get on with things.  And so after a briefish breakfast, we do the tipping ceremony:

Raymond arriving to be presented with his share of the spoils.

We had 27 staff altogether and the money gets presented to each one in turn, ranging from US$50 for the porters to just over US$100 for our guide Deo.  It amounted for us to around US$200 each.  The porters and guides apparently earn about the same in tips are they do in wages, and for the work they do it is a pittance in my opinion, even allowing for the fact that we are in Tanzania.  They are all seemingly extremely grateful.

Not all of us were entirely unanimous on the level of tips to give – I’ll leave it at that, as it was the only point of contention that the seven of us had all week, and when you consider that at least some of us knew none of the others before we started, and then spent 24 hours a day with each other, that could have been sometimes stressful.  It actually never ever was – we all got on great at all times. And money is, after all, a rather emotive subject.

We set out for the descent at about 7.30am finally, and the walk down was tiring to an extent, as you use different sets of muscles going down than up, and we also went at a fair old pace.  We had also just done the summit and another 30k or so over the previous 36 hours, so muscles were definitely well worn at this stage. Deo told us the walk would take around six hours, and Heather, Ronan and I did it in five.  The ‘tweens’ however, with ‘newcomer’ Caroline finding her legs and joining them, did it in a incredible four hours, running in part.

The walk once past about a third of the way down was absolutely stunning.  Far and away the prettiest (if not the most stunning, that being reserved for any walk with a view of Kibo) walk yet, as it was through tropical rainforest.  It was very hard to believe we were still on the mountain.

Me and Deo in the forest on the way down

We also saw quite a lot of flora and fauna indigenous to Kili – such as more Senecios, some small flowers whose name escapes me (someone please help me here?), some parasitic climbing lillies, waterfalls and Spanish moss. I really must learn to write down names of things before I forget them:). Here are some pictures on the way down anyway:

The Senecios grow an extra limb every 25 years apparently...

Spanish Moss, I can remember that one:)

I remember that this ends up crawling up the forest canopy...

I asked quite a few questions about things on the way down, and Deo would stop and tell us things that we might have otherwise have missed. It was nice to be educated in this way by him.  This is the mark of a great guide for me (without of course any experience of bad ones) as when questions were asked he was almost always able to answer them.

We reached the gate at 12.40pm, and registered at Marangu Gate where certificates were issued to the guides on our behalf.  As I passed through Marangu Gate my emotions were very mixed.  I was delighted to finish seven days of very hard work, where I had pushed myself to the very limits of my own physical capabilities.  I was also so outrageously happy/content coming down.  Kilimanjaro was more that I ever hoped it would be.  On the other hand I was however quite sad to be leaving.  It did not want this to be over, as needy as I was for a shower, and the comfort of a bed, and a celebratory beer.  Those things, attractive as they most certainly were, were just not important any more though. I walked through the gate and off the mountain, perhaps and probably for the last time…..

Kilimanjaro had taken over pretty much all of my thoughts for six months – I made the most of it, respected it, loved it.  And I always will….

The journey down the mountain – 01/03/2010

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You cannot spend long at the summit.  Firstly you don’t want to, as you really don’t feel like it due to the lack of oxygen.  Secondly your guide/assistant guide won’t let you.  Every extra minute up there is not good for you.  You have 40% of the oxygen that you would have at sea level.  Oh yes and thirdly it is (at least for us) blizzarding snow like nobody’s business. In fact just getting the camera out gets it wet, and although I need this moment and these photographs I don’t want to ruin the camera either.  Your brain works reeeeaaaalllyyy slowly here.  After about 10 minutes at the sign proclaiming the “World’s Highest Free Standing Mountain”, Raymond suggests we get away.  There are no arguments from us.

Wish I could linger here a little while longer, it was fun!!

To get down we have to get to Gilman’s Point, which is the eastern most point of the crater, and almost 1000 feet lower than Uhuru.  The journey is scary.  There are precipitous drops on both sides, and we are walking on snow and ice with perhaps two or three feet each side of us at times.  To add to this we are nearly four miles up in the air, have been awake for over 24 hours, have just climbed Kilimanjaro, and are just dead on our feet.  Oh and I have run out of all drinking or eating materials, and it is snowing like crazy.

I don’t even dare get my camera out.  You need poles here badly, and thankfully I had mine (in fact I had been clinging to them for dear life all night long), and was still capable of them.  But we cannot stop to rest at all – time is precious.  We reach Gilman’s Point after I do not know how long, and began edging down, pole by pole, step by step, on icy, steep scree.  If you fell here you’d end up:-

  1. Creating a very big snowball with you in the middle of it, and
  2. It’d be the last thing that you ever did.

After about perhaps 40 minutes of painfully slow, toe curling, twitchy moments, the scree turned more loose, and less icy.  This enabled us to scree-ski and make huge gains.  It was actually fun!!!!!!.  It was also hard, but by leaning back and basically jumping each step you were carried down by the weight of your body at each step.

Let's get the hell out of here..............

The desire to get to lower altitude also took over, and so the effort was worth the reward, on a ‘no pain – no gain’ basis.  Altogether it took probably 3.5 hours to get down to Kibo Huts, at an altitude of 4,700 m, where we would have lunch.  By the time we reached there we were exhausted but still elated by all that had happened during the night. We all made it, which was fantastic beyond belief.

After probably not the best lunch we had ever had, which was described to us as French toast and cucumber soup, although it really looked like neither, we set off back to Horombo camp, where we had left the previous morning some 18 or so hours before.

The walk was long and dull and wet.  It was also across what must be Kilimanjaro’s only ‘boring’ terrain known as The Saddle.  The walk was a further 12km or so and it rained pretty hard for about two thirds of the way.  Some 3.5 hours later we were back at Horombo.  When we arrived I was immediately greeted by Kevin, my porter.  He had lugged my bag and watched my tent for me every day for the last six days.  Porters cannot go to the summit, but news had been telephone ahead of our success.  He was clearly delighted and we hugged each other.  It was a lovely moment.

Close to Horombo after 36 hours of up and down at the summit

We had dinner at about 6pm and I have no recollection of what it was.  Tiredness had basically overcome all of us, and by the time dinner was completed, and a brief interlude to sort out tips for the following day, everyone headed straight for bed.

From 8pm or so I slept until 6am the following day. Someone asked me if I had heard the gales during the night. I said that if a herd of rampaging elephants had stampeded through my tent I would not have heard them. In fact, it may have been the best night’s sleep I ever had, and I do not believe I moved a muscle all night, which is a good thing, as everyone of them had been used to the point of not wanting to be used any more.