Early on in our hike, we heard the constant refrains of "jib jib" - "up up." However, it was still being used today even though we were going down, down, down...
Our camp was in the rainforest, so we had a little shade when we were getting up this morning, which made it a cool start. Talitha and I were the only ones still eating the porridge, but the toast and jam went quick. Not so much with the hotdog-looking sausages.
After breakfast, we were having a ceremony to meet all of the staff. We gathered outside the tent, and thirty people stood in front of us. There were 21-odd porters and helpers, along with all our guides. The eight of us gawked (and videoed) as they clapped and chanted and danced and sang. The main lyrics were "Hakuna matata, Kilimanjaro", with some "haribu"s ("welcome") sprinkled in.
We were singing "Hit the Road, Jack" shortly thereafter, since it was a more maintained but just as long path this morning as yesterday afternoon. We trundled down, trying to make record time, but really only just walking down through the forest.
It was staccatoed with a few interesting things. There were the "skunk monkeys" (blue monkeys, I think) in the trees at one point. There were some pretty awesome trees that were hollowed out. And the flowers picked up as well, with some pink and yellow orchid-looking ones.
But in general, it was a path with a foot drop every yard or so (that's in imperial measurements, of course). We saw the stairs being maintained as we were walking down, as well as the first of the "Kilimanjaro Express" stretchers on a single wheel. We caught a glimpse of one person going down early in the morning, but for the most part, it was only hikers like us defending (and the "porter on the right" call every fifty feet).
Hours later (actually roughly three or four to walk the 10k), we got to the forest clearing that was Mweka Gate. Once we left the park, the street sellers jumped on us like hounds. Tshirts, bracelets, figurines - all for "cheap" and "good price for you, sister." I ended up haggling for some cute wooden figurines of "trigga" (giraffe), even though we haven't seen any yet. Cross your fingers that tomorrow is the day!
Duncan and I caught up with Alisa and Stuart (sorry, I've been spelling his name wrong this whole time) in the line to sign out. We finished that process, found Talitha, who was surprisingly only twenty minutes behind. It was time to hit the real road! The big yellow-ish bus (we called it "Lemon Symphony" after the tea we've been drinking at breakfast) rolled through banana and coffee farms before getting back to Moshi.
Tipping is expected, and we had an interesting time trying to understand when and how much was appropriate. One guide mentioned we should do it at Mweka Gate, before we got back to the hotel. Since part of us only had cash back at the hotel, that wasn't going to work. Also, the suggested tipping guidelines from Zara were back at the hotel as well. So we had a piece of paper with the number of guides, assistant guides, porters, cooks, waiters, toilet porters, etc. waiting for us when we got back to the hotel. From what I could gather from the confusing conversations was that the government could see it and tax it if it was written down, but not if we had just given it to them under the table. It was a bit frustrating that it was that confusing, but everyone was nice about it, so that made it easier to be treasurer. I was kinda on Stuart's side by the end - just pay them fair wage and then we wouldn't have to deal with it.
We ended up working out tipping at the buffet lunch at the hotel. After we did, part of the group dispersed to take showers. I knew I couldn't until Alisa was done (with shorter hair, hers shows the grease more, so I was happy to concede.)
In a show of more typical African disorganization, Babu came up to tell us that they were waiting in the courtyard for us. We weren't expecting to meet until 6 for the certificate ceremony, and now they wanted to meet at 3.
So we eventually gathered the group up, figured out that they wanted the tips now to distribute to the porters who were waiting for them, and decided to go ahead and do the certificate ceremony then so there wasn't anymore confusion.
It was a fun couple hours, except that I really wanted a shower. It was just meters away! But we were presented the certificates and got yellow leis (with each person getting a chanted song and dance along with it), then Tracy gave a speech about the guides and their camaraderie and helpfulness. I presented the tips then skipped off to our orientation for our safari tomorrow.
To be honest, I was done with the big, loud group, just ready for the shower. Bruce came up while we were filling in the paperwork to tell me I skipped out on them. There was a grain of truth to that, but I let him hug me and then jumped in the shower for twenty minutes.
The rest of the afternoon was hanging out by the hotel, then deciding to go back into Moshi for Indoitaliano, where we had great Indian food over a week ago. Our group of five (the Kentucky crew were going to try to wait for Babu to come and show them the town) turned into eight with others from a Zara group, then back to five when they had more to wait for. The bus that was supposed to leave at 7:15 didn't leave until 7:45, then there was a wait at the restaurant. After a trip to the ATM, our table was ready and it was a long time before we were done. Service was even slower than the first time, they ran out of paneer, and then, after we got our food and some naan was missing, they ran out of that too. Alisa's food was too spicy, Duncan's rice came out ten minutes after his sizzling plate, and we were just not pleased. But, we were fed, had the ice cream Alisa has been talking about all week, and were ready for bed.
One crammed cab ride later, and we were back at Springlands. It was weird saying goodbye - hadn't thought of that part. The Kentucky guys had ended up at the restaurant too, so we were able to say goodbye to them there. Then Talitha peeled off. Then it was just us and Stuart and Duncan. Then they went to bed and now it's just Alisa and me for the rest of the trip. Less chaos, but I'm going to miss all of them.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Hike Day 7 - The Summit : Feb. 25
So very, very early today was the time. At this point, even less than a day later, it is a blur.
We were woken up at 11pm, supposedly to leave by midnight. I had already woken up a few times and our tent had been battered by wind. This and the darkness and anticipation freaked me out sufficiently.
I put on all the layers I had, which turned out to be:
• Sports bra
• Wicking shirt
• Two wicking long-sleeves
• Retro acrylic sweater from the 70s (yes, Mom, that went up Kilimanjaro)
• Black fleece
• Red fleece
• Wind-resistant coat with fleece inner layer
• Leggings
• Wind pants
• Hiking pants
• Snow pants
• Hiking socks
• Scarf
• Snow gloves
• Wool cap with ear flaps lined with fleece
Sum total: four layers on bottom, seven layers on top. Alisa kept mentioning Randy from "The Christmas Story" - "I can't put down my arms!" More like I couldn't bend over to tie my hiking boots.
I hit the toilet, had a cup of hot water, adjusted my poles, and spent another ten to twenty minutes waiting for the five guides that were going to help us up the mountain.
But we were finally off, with a few hours of sleep, our headlamps, and the full moon. Knowing there was at least six hours of drudgery, most people (including me) had some music in their ears as well.
The first bit was rocky, requiring stepping up onto shelves of rock. Not a hard thing, at sea level and room temperature. At roughly freezing and 3900 meters, it was tough. With all of my layers on, I got overheated (as did most of the group), so the guides scurried around unzipping layers and removing hoods.
A flat section broke the slope, and afterward, it was frozen gravel or scree at a steep angle. One step up would sometimes stick and sometimes send you back to just inches from where you started. This, while zig-zagging up ridges for the majority of the time, was also the easiest for me to just keep plugging along at.
As for altitude, I wasn't feeling any physical symptoms, like a headache or nausea (though there were some signs of those who did get that along the trail). What I was feeling, though, was back and neck pain. The anxiety and carrying a backpack and being forced to stare right in front of me at the feet of whomever I was following was a perfect disaster for my neck. But, that was bearable pain, and understandable.
Less understandable, and way more scary, was the lack of oxygen. While I wasn't feeling the symptoms, I was feeling the effects. After the first bit of rock, it was mostly uphill scree walking. However, when there was a shelf of rock, I began to hyperventilate. I knew the exertion of lifting my body six inches into the air would start me breathing heavy, and that scared me. Everytime, I pulled down my scarf to breath in the stingingly cold air and used my poles to help pull me up.
The night was long. The glaciers that are just below the crater rim we could see from camp yesterday. We were also the highest collection of tents at Barafu, so had the shortest hike to join up with the trail. However, as close as the glaciers appeared, it was only because they were massively far away the other times we've seen them.
And so, hour after hour passed. We took very short breaks to rest, but it was too cold to stop for long. The guides served us tea at about the halfway point (though I didn't know it at the time - I had no concept of time except that it was creeping by), and I jumped behind a rock to pee. Between the gloves and my frozen fingers, I couldn't get my hiking pants or snow pants to close. I had two layers on underneath, so didn't care from a decency perspective, but the snow pants riding low didn't help my anxiety at stepping up on rocks.
I was also twenty meters behind the group, which, while everyone is going "pole pole", is insurmountable. So Bruce guided me on. When they stopped for a break, the two of us pressed on. And that was how, six and a half grueling hours later, Stella Point and the sunrise came into view.
Stella Point is along the crater rim at 3700-ish meters, and is an hour's walk from Uruhu, the summit and highest point on the crater rim. Getting there meant it was the home stretch - flatter than before and in the sun.
I cheered the majority of "Team Simba" (our group nickname) for their final twenty feet, and we paused for just long enough to take in the fiery red sky. Then, the trudgery continued around the crater rim.
The sun did warm things up a bit, but the biting wind that showed up counteracted that. We were walking past a volcano caldera on the right and giant glaciers on the left, so the view wasn't lacking.
We suffered that final bit; Bob, Tracy, Duncan, Stewart, Alisa and I made it to the sign for the summit all around the same time. The obligatory photos were taken, then Taletha showed up just in time for the group picture. There was no sign of Erin.
I was very unhappy at the summit. I didn't like the chaos at the sign for picture-taking, I didn't even like that pictures had to be taken for proof at that point. I was cold, a little hungry, out of breath, and ready to head back to camp that instant.
The second we gathered our gear and turned around, my mood did a 180 as well. Alisa and I cheered on those who were still trickling to the summit, including Erin! The glaciers, the view, the companionship, everything was wonderful.
At Stella Point, we met up with Duncan and Stewart, and started the giant slide downhill. There was mention in one of the Kili books of the erosion problem, and the daylight clearly revealed that. We were skidding down the mountain!
I assumed it would be a quick trip down, despite the trip up being over six hours. Two hours and three falls later, we made it back to camp, dusty, tired, and ready to stop using our muscles.
We had a one-hour break that turned into two as Taletha favored her knee coming down the mountain. Then it was lunch and we were off to Mweka Huts.
While the summit was grueling, the six or so mile walk down to camp wasn't much fun either. We left the moonscape for a desert, left the desert for scrub, and left the scrub for a forest. The "two hour" hike was four hours of knee-blasting rock or rock creek bed. It was slow going for some, but I knew all of us couldn't wait to get into camp.
And what a site. Surrounded by trees, in a clearing, with dirt under us instead of rocks and dust - heaven. Stewart had already had Duncan check out beer availability, so we had Babu acquire some through illegal means. (The registration store said they weren't allowed to sell it, but sell it they did.)
The six of us that made it down to camp with Peter (Duncan, Stewart, Bob, Tracy, Alisa, and I) all popped a lukewarm one and dissected the day.
When the others showed up, it was popcorn then dinner time. We've been eating less (I'm getting sick of the same flavors over and over) and tonight was no different.
Our briefing with Bruce was different. He brought up the ceremony tomorrow, and the tipping that goes along with it. After over an hour of talking about everything from politics to the Kilimanjaro Porter Association, we basically figured out we'll fill out a paper at the hotel tomorrow. I think.
Regardless, lots of work and not much sleep deserves to be remedies.
We were woken up at 11pm, supposedly to leave by midnight. I had already woken up a few times and our tent had been battered by wind. This and the darkness and anticipation freaked me out sufficiently.
I put on all the layers I had, which turned out to be:
• Sports bra
• Wicking shirt
• Two wicking long-sleeves
• Retro acrylic sweater from the 70s (yes, Mom, that went up Kilimanjaro)
• Black fleece
• Red fleece
• Wind-resistant coat with fleece inner layer
• Leggings
• Wind pants
• Hiking pants
• Snow pants
• Hiking socks
• Scarf
• Snow gloves
• Wool cap with ear flaps lined with fleece
Sum total: four layers on bottom, seven layers on top. Alisa kept mentioning Randy from "The Christmas Story" - "I can't put down my arms!" More like I couldn't bend over to tie my hiking boots.
I hit the toilet, had a cup of hot water, adjusted my poles, and spent another ten to twenty minutes waiting for the five guides that were going to help us up the mountain.
But we were finally off, with a few hours of sleep, our headlamps, and the full moon. Knowing there was at least six hours of drudgery, most people (including me) had some music in their ears as well.
The first bit was rocky, requiring stepping up onto shelves of rock. Not a hard thing, at sea level and room temperature. At roughly freezing and 3900 meters, it was tough. With all of my layers on, I got overheated (as did most of the group), so the guides scurried around unzipping layers and removing hoods.
A flat section broke the slope, and afterward, it was frozen gravel or scree at a steep angle. One step up would sometimes stick and sometimes send you back to just inches from where you started. This, while zig-zagging up ridges for the majority of the time, was also the easiest for me to just keep plugging along at.
As for altitude, I wasn't feeling any physical symptoms, like a headache or nausea (though there were some signs of those who did get that along the trail). What I was feeling, though, was back and neck pain. The anxiety and carrying a backpack and being forced to stare right in front of me at the feet of whomever I was following was a perfect disaster for my neck. But, that was bearable pain, and understandable.
Less understandable, and way more scary, was the lack of oxygen. While I wasn't feeling the symptoms, I was feeling the effects. After the first bit of rock, it was mostly uphill scree walking. However, when there was a shelf of rock, I began to hyperventilate. I knew the exertion of lifting my body six inches into the air would start me breathing heavy, and that scared me. Everytime, I pulled down my scarf to breath in the stingingly cold air and used my poles to help pull me up.
The night was long. The glaciers that are just below the crater rim we could see from camp yesterday. We were also the highest collection of tents at Barafu, so had the shortest hike to join up with the trail. However, as close as the glaciers appeared, it was only because they were massively far away the other times we've seen them.
And so, hour after hour passed. We took very short breaks to rest, but it was too cold to stop for long. The guides served us tea at about the halfway point (though I didn't know it at the time - I had no concept of time except that it was creeping by), and I jumped behind a rock to pee. Between the gloves and my frozen fingers, I couldn't get my hiking pants or snow pants to close. I had two layers on underneath, so didn't care from a decency perspective, but the snow pants riding low didn't help my anxiety at stepping up on rocks.
I was also twenty meters behind the group, which, while everyone is going "pole pole", is insurmountable. So Bruce guided me on. When they stopped for a break, the two of us pressed on. And that was how, six and a half grueling hours later, Stella Point and the sunrise came into view.
Stella Point is along the crater rim at 3700-ish meters, and is an hour's walk from Uruhu, the summit and highest point on the crater rim. Getting there meant it was the home stretch - flatter than before and in the sun.
I cheered the majority of "Team Simba" (our group nickname) for their final twenty feet, and we paused for just long enough to take in the fiery red sky. Then, the trudgery continued around the crater rim.
The sun did warm things up a bit, but the biting wind that showed up counteracted that. We were walking past a volcano caldera on the right and giant glaciers on the left, so the view wasn't lacking.
We suffered that final bit; Bob, Tracy, Duncan, Stewart, Alisa and I made it to the sign for the summit all around the same time. The obligatory photos were taken, then Taletha showed up just in time for the group picture. There was no sign of Erin.
I was very unhappy at the summit. I didn't like the chaos at the sign for picture-taking, I didn't even like that pictures had to be taken for proof at that point. I was cold, a little hungry, out of breath, and ready to head back to camp that instant.
The second we gathered our gear and turned around, my mood did a 180 as well. Alisa and I cheered on those who were still trickling to the summit, including Erin! The glaciers, the view, the companionship, everything was wonderful.
At Stella Point, we met up with Duncan and Stewart, and started the giant slide downhill. There was mention in one of the Kili books of the erosion problem, and the daylight clearly revealed that. We were skidding down the mountain!
I assumed it would be a quick trip down, despite the trip up being over six hours. Two hours and three falls later, we made it back to camp, dusty, tired, and ready to stop using our muscles.
We had a one-hour break that turned into two as Taletha favored her knee coming down the mountain. Then it was lunch and we were off to Mweka Huts.
While the summit was grueling, the six or so mile walk down to camp wasn't much fun either. We left the moonscape for a desert, left the desert for scrub, and left the scrub for a forest. The "two hour" hike was four hours of knee-blasting rock or rock creek bed. It was slow going for some, but I knew all of us couldn't wait to get into camp.
And what a site. Surrounded by trees, in a clearing, with dirt under us instead of rocks and dust - heaven. Stewart had already had Duncan check out beer availability, so we had Babu acquire some through illegal means. (The registration store said they weren't allowed to sell it, but sell it they did.)
The six of us that made it down to camp with Peter (Duncan, Stewart, Bob, Tracy, Alisa, and I) all popped a lukewarm one and dissected the day.
When the others showed up, it was popcorn then dinner time. We've been eating less (I'm getting sick of the same flavors over and over) and tonight was no different.
Our briefing with Bruce was different. He brought up the ceremony tomorrow, and the tipping that goes along with it. After over an hour of talking about everything from politics to the Kilimanjaro Porter Association, we basically figured out we'll fill out a paper at the hotel tomorrow. I think.
Regardless, lots of work and not much sleep deserves to be remedies.
Hike Day 6 - Anticipation : Feb. 24
The one day that someone else was in our tent site at base camp (Barafu Hut), three hours actually takes three hours, so we had a bit of waiting.
The scenery got ugly today. At Karanga, there were still some birds and plants, but after the first uphill section, it was shale and black volcanic rock as far as the eye could see. There were some interesting cairns using the shale (a shark fin, for example), but pretty boring, just up, up, up.
We hit a ridge and the wind picked up. If that is any indication for tonight, it is going to be miserable.
But after three hours, we got to registration, where we had a little queue. Then, Bruce told us three minutes. Ten minutes of warmth in the sun that got stolen by a breeze, and Babu told us five minutes. Another ten minutes later... Camp was pretty much set up! Or we were just evicting those that climbed up last night. Everyone we talked to made it, so we were all pretty confident.
Lunch was potato pancakes, which I turned into lefse with some butter and sugar. There was also, you guessed it, soup. It was a pretty somber lunch; everyone in their own thoughts regarding the hike tonight. We scattered to our various tents for siesta and anxiety.
Dinner was served around 5:30, and, amazingly, didn't have soup but stew! Everyone ate a little something, and we were a much more chattery bunch, thankfully. There were enough off-color jokes that we were blaming the altitude.
The sun went down and the tent got chilly. Our five guides for tomorrow (Thomas, Babu, Bruce, Peter, and Adam) gave us the low-down. First was medical check-ups, with all of us learning more than we needed about each others' bowel movements. But everyone checked up ok and it was on to logistics.
We'll be getting up at 11, have some tea and crackers, and leave by 11:20. That's three hours from now, so time for some shuteye.
The scenery got ugly today. At Karanga, there were still some birds and plants, but after the first uphill section, it was shale and black volcanic rock as far as the eye could see. There were some interesting cairns using the shale (a shark fin, for example), but pretty boring, just up, up, up.
We hit a ridge and the wind picked up. If that is any indication for tonight, it is going to be miserable.
But after three hours, we got to registration, where we had a little queue. Then, Bruce told us three minutes. Ten minutes of warmth in the sun that got stolen by a breeze, and Babu told us five minutes. Another ten minutes later... Camp was pretty much set up! Or we were just evicting those that climbed up last night. Everyone we talked to made it, so we were all pretty confident.
Lunch was potato pancakes, which I turned into lefse with some butter and sugar. There was also, you guessed it, soup. It was a pretty somber lunch; everyone in their own thoughts regarding the hike tonight. We scattered to our various tents for siesta and anxiety.
Dinner was served around 5:30, and, amazingly, didn't have soup but stew! Everyone ate a little something, and we were a much more chattery bunch, thankfully. There were enough off-color jokes that we were blaming the altitude.
The sun went down and the tent got chilly. Our five guides for tomorrow (Thomas, Babu, Bruce, Peter, and Adam) gave us the low-down. First was medical check-ups, with all of us learning more than we needed about each others' bowel movements. But everyone checked up ok and it was on to logistics.
We'll be getting up at 11, have some tea and crackers, and leave by 11:20. That's three hours from now, so time for some shuteye.
Hike Day 5 - Three African Hours : Feb. 23
It is our last day sleeping a full night. And today's hike was supposed to be easy. "Three hours," Thomas told us last night.
Well, we got the lazier start because of all the traffic up Baranco Wall, which was our first obstacle. Instead of up at 7, breakfast at 7:30, it was tea in the tent at 7 (which I declined - Alisa was toasting her hands on the boiling water), then breakfast at 8.
I had a warm night, except for when my feet started getting cold. A trip to the bathroom fixed that. A cold trip where I had to crack the icy layer on the outside of the tent.
But once the sun was up and breakfast was served, it warmed up. The awesome scramble up Baranco Wall warmed us up as well.
It was an hour and a half of hoisting ourselves up boulders, hugging rocks, squeezing up narrow passages, and finding places where the porters could pass us. Having Chatty Cathy from California behind us was a pretty big push for people as well. I think we really all enjoyed it a lot.
When we finally reached the top, the blue sky and clouds seemed to disappear off the edge of the rocks. We were in the sky, and when the sun shone, you could tell there wasn't much between us and it. After a piece of relaxation (where I took off my extra bottom layers and put on my knee braces), it was "jib, jib, twende" and we were "up, up, let's go."
There was some down that varied between gentle and technical next. We walked through that no problem. Next, we approached a gentle section where the wind and erosion trails down the mountaintop were only cut by a gravelly path that we followed.
It was two more ridges until we saw camp. Gentle up, steep down, though. On the way down, I stuck with Erin as we chatted with Bruce about schools and the U.S. He went to UW Madison, where my cousin is finishing up now! Small world.
The path itself, though, was a challenge. We were basically following a stream, which meant there were an awesome cave or two, but also a "water slide" down a wide, flat rock that you had to be careful of sitting down or you'd end up wet.
There was the last stream before summit, then maybe another fifteen minute uphill section to camp. The porters were carrying water up the hill, since we'll need it all for cooking, washing, and drinking today and tomorrow.
So three hours was more like four and a half, but we rolled into camp and got lunch. The group is a lot of fun to chat with, and Bruce popped in to give us some encouraging words (and warn us again about the water).
Alisa and I headed back to the tent, ostensibly to rest, more to just chat and gossip and eat snacks. When it was twenty minutes to dinner, then I decided to try to nap in the deliciously warm sauna that was our tent.
But the sun went down (with radiant colors over the city - Arusha was the guess) and so did the temperature. Dinner was hats, scarves, and more soup... There were delicious pasties to dip into it though. The green bean and potato sauce on rice wouldn't have been half bad if it weren't the same taste and texture as every night.
We did more wondering about summit night tomorrow, then sat and chatted until it was too cold to continue. The candle was blown out - the party was over. Time to get the last full night until summit!
Well, we got the lazier start because of all the traffic up Baranco Wall, which was our first obstacle. Instead of up at 7, breakfast at 7:30, it was tea in the tent at 7 (which I declined - Alisa was toasting her hands on the boiling water), then breakfast at 8.
I had a warm night, except for when my feet started getting cold. A trip to the bathroom fixed that. A cold trip where I had to crack the icy layer on the outside of the tent.
But once the sun was up and breakfast was served, it warmed up. The awesome scramble up Baranco Wall warmed us up as well.
It was an hour and a half of hoisting ourselves up boulders, hugging rocks, squeezing up narrow passages, and finding places where the porters could pass us. Having Chatty Cathy from California behind us was a pretty big push for people as well. I think we really all enjoyed it a lot.
When we finally reached the top, the blue sky and clouds seemed to disappear off the edge of the rocks. We were in the sky, and when the sun shone, you could tell there wasn't much between us and it. After a piece of relaxation (where I took off my extra bottom layers and put on my knee braces), it was "jib, jib, twende" and we were "up, up, let's go."
There was some down that varied between gentle and technical next. We walked through that no problem. Next, we approached a gentle section where the wind and erosion trails down the mountaintop were only cut by a gravelly path that we followed.
It was two more ridges until we saw camp. Gentle up, steep down, though. On the way down, I stuck with Erin as we chatted with Bruce about schools and the U.S. He went to UW Madison, where my cousin is finishing up now! Small world.
The path itself, though, was a challenge. We were basically following a stream, which meant there were an awesome cave or two, but also a "water slide" down a wide, flat rock that you had to be careful of sitting down or you'd end up wet.
There was the last stream before summit, then maybe another fifteen minute uphill section to camp. The porters were carrying water up the hill, since we'll need it all for cooking, washing, and drinking today and tomorrow.
So three hours was more like four and a half, but we rolled into camp and got lunch. The group is a lot of fun to chat with, and Bruce popped in to give us some encouraging words (and warn us again about the water).
Alisa and I headed back to the tent, ostensibly to rest, more to just chat and gossip and eat snacks. When it was twenty minutes to dinner, then I decided to try to nap in the deliciously warm sauna that was our tent.
But the sun went down (with radiant colors over the city - Arusha was the guess) and so did the temperature. Dinner was hats, scarves, and more soup... There were delicious pasties to dip into it though. The green bean and potato sauce on rice wouldn't have been half bad if it weren't the same taste and texture as every night.
We did more wondering about summit night tomorrow, then sat and chatted until it was too cold to continue. The candle was blown out - the party was over. Time to get the last full night until summit!
Hike Day 4 - Prehistoric Forest : Feb. 22
The guides continue to tell us that it is an easy day, that Day 2 was the hardest, but everyday, I struggle a little more.
It might be that I haven't had a full night's sleep since last Friday (a week ago). First it was jetlag, then it was jetlag + altitude, now it is altitude + cold. It was definitely down to freezing last night, but this morning wasn't too bad, with just pants and long sleeves and fleece holding me until the Lava Tower.
But first, the routine. Porridge. Again. And eggs. Again. Variety is going to be great. I'm not even enjoying the Milo anymore.
We started off up a steep cliff opposite out acclimatization hike yesterday night. As we headed out over the hill, we thought we were halfway through gaining the altitude for today.
Two hours (and lots of moonscape later), we reached the real killer section. Sorry, I left out that there was an eagle and Stewart peed at twice the normal frequency. So two hours later, the fog rolls in and the giant tower in the distance disappears and we are just trudging. The last hundred meters, I was just repeating "To the top" over and over.
But to the top we were. It was long lunch (everyone was struggling up) and some great views of Kili and the Lava tower when the clouds cleared.
A couple people were dozing before lunch came into the mess tent, and I was sitting right next to Erin. After a few minutes, I decided to see if I could balance a full place setting on him. The knife, fork, and spoon went in his collar and... not a stir. The soup bowl went upside down on his head, and I'm sure my shaky hand from my laughter and everyone else's laughter would tip him off. Nothing. So the plate balanced right on top and Thomas came in right on cue to serve up and wake him up while the rest of us were catching the flying dishes and laughing until we had tears in our eyes.
After lunch, I popped on the rain jacket (thank you, Rosie) and kept the wind away as we scrambled though a slot on the rock before two hours of down, down, down.
Tracy had "hatchets in his eyes" as Erin put it because every meter we go down, we have to go back up. The landscape we were passing through, though, was my favorite yet.
It reminds me of Joshua Tree and dinosaur movies rolled into one. The trees are built like palms, where they build up leaf by leaf over time until they are a dozen feet tall (or four meters, for the Aussies). There were ferns, more of the songbirds from yesterday, steams we traversed, and even a waterfall.
The bad news was that we were going down. My knees, especially my right, were feeling it even with my poles bearing some of my weight. The rocky scrambles up are less fun as jumps down the mountain.
However, the rest of the group had even less fun as a chatterbox from another group walked next to us. She was chatting Bruce up, and I think all of us know a little too much about her now. At dinner, we all agreed silence was better than that. (Except maybe me... I was a bit entertained.)
Our campsite is a stunner though. A cliff wall on one side, the mountain just next to it, and a view all the way down to Moshi.
It was the typical water for washing.c tea, peanuts and biscuits (no popcorn, sadly), then chatting a bit until dinner. We must be either getting used to this little oxygen or it is driving us crazy, because there were some big laughs at dinner too. Warmth and pee bottles, airport horror stories, and a quote from the Kili book that cheered everyone up: "The walk from Stella's Point to Uruhu Peak will chill you to your bones, until your very marrow is frozen, and then it will freeze your very soul."
On that happy note, we had our cabbage, pancakes, vegetable sauce, and pumpkin soup (not as delicious as it sounds.. No soup until next winter will be too soon.)
As we were finishing up, Bruce came in for our debriefing. Just three hours, all before lunch tomorrow. And everyone is doing well in the group. Like "simba" (lion). We became the Simba Group right then and there.
Tracy's simba status was almost taken away when he jumped (retroactively) -after Thomas tripped over our tent cord. "Earthquake!"
It might be that I haven't had a full night's sleep since last Friday (a week ago). First it was jetlag, then it was jetlag + altitude, now it is altitude + cold. It was definitely down to freezing last night, but this morning wasn't too bad, with just pants and long sleeves and fleece holding me until the Lava Tower.
But first, the routine. Porridge. Again. And eggs. Again. Variety is going to be great. I'm not even enjoying the Milo anymore.
We started off up a steep cliff opposite out acclimatization hike yesterday night. As we headed out over the hill, we thought we were halfway through gaining the altitude for today.
Two hours (and lots of moonscape later), we reached the real killer section. Sorry, I left out that there was an eagle and Stewart peed at twice the normal frequency. So two hours later, the fog rolls in and the giant tower in the distance disappears and we are just trudging. The last hundred meters, I was just repeating "To the top" over and over.
But to the top we were. It was long lunch (everyone was struggling up) and some great views of Kili and the Lava tower when the clouds cleared.
A couple people were dozing before lunch came into the mess tent, and I was sitting right next to Erin. After a few minutes, I decided to see if I could balance a full place setting on him. The knife, fork, and spoon went in his collar and... not a stir. The soup bowl went upside down on his head, and I'm sure my shaky hand from my laughter and everyone else's laughter would tip him off. Nothing. So the plate balanced right on top and Thomas came in right on cue to serve up and wake him up while the rest of us were catching the flying dishes and laughing until we had tears in our eyes.
After lunch, I popped on the rain jacket (thank you, Rosie) and kept the wind away as we scrambled though a slot on the rock before two hours of down, down, down.
Tracy had "hatchets in his eyes" as Erin put it because every meter we go down, we have to go back up. The landscape we were passing through, though, was my favorite yet.
It reminds me of Joshua Tree and dinosaur movies rolled into one. The trees are built like palms, where they build up leaf by leaf over time until they are a dozen feet tall (or four meters, for the Aussies). There were ferns, more of the songbirds from yesterday, steams we traversed, and even a waterfall.
The bad news was that we were going down. My knees, especially my right, were feeling it even with my poles bearing some of my weight. The rocky scrambles up are less fun as jumps down the mountain.
However, the rest of the group had even less fun as a chatterbox from another group walked next to us. She was chatting Bruce up, and I think all of us know a little too much about her now. At dinner, we all agreed silence was better than that. (Except maybe me... I was a bit entertained.)
Our campsite is a stunner though. A cliff wall on one side, the mountain just next to it, and a view all the way down to Moshi.
It was the typical water for washing.c tea, peanuts and biscuits (no popcorn, sadly), then chatting a bit until dinner. We must be either getting used to this little oxygen or it is driving us crazy, because there were some big laughs at dinner too. Warmth and pee bottles, airport horror stories, and a quote from the Kili book that cheered everyone up: "The walk from Stella's Point to Uruhu Peak will chill you to your bones, until your very marrow is frozen, and then it will freeze your very soul."
On that happy note, we had our cabbage, pancakes, vegetable sauce, and pumpkin soup (not as delicious as it sounds.. No soup until next winter will be too soon.)
As we were finishing up, Bruce came in for our debriefing. Just three hours, all before lunch tomorrow. And everyone is doing well in the group. Like "simba" (lion). We became the Simba Group right then and there.
Tracy's simba status was almost taken away when he jumped (retroactively) -after Thomas tripped over our tent cord. "Earthquake!"
Hike Day 3 - Moja, Mbele, Tatu... : Feb. 21
After yesterday's threat of being the hardest day before summit day, I think everyone was feeling ok this morning. There was some condensation on the tent, but the sky was blue and we were off after our porridge and eggs.
The fake Camelbak I gave Alisa yesterday was tested overnight (since the first day she got soaked), and proved to just need a bit of tightening. Every morning, they come to collect our empty water bottles, and chant "water for washing." The warm jug outside the tent is a get impetus to get up, but everything has to be packed before going to breakfast.
Our first three hours from Shira Camp 1 were hiking to and then over a ridge to another flat area. We had decided (at the behest of our guide, Bruce) to head to Moir Hut today, instead of Shira 2. We are sleeping a bit higher (at 4250 meters, I think), but are more acclimated (or a-climate-ized as the Aussies pronounce it).
I've been learning how to count in Swahili from the guides, and graduated to twenty today (though I can't remember it at the moment). Thomas, the assistant guide, starts by saying "moja", which is "one", then I have to dig through my low-oxygen brain to find the rest up to ten. Thankfully, ten through nineteen are just addition.
All was good up to lunch, which was some soup (as always - sadly not growing any fonder of soup during this trip), "propane" grilled cheese, and corn fritters that were delicious.
It is amazing the soup they can think up. Cucumber, carrot, sweet corn. We'll see what the count of types is at the end of the eight days.
With every meal comes hot water. Not a big tea fan, I've been opting for the Milo, which is a Nestlé product that might be similar to Ovaltine. Yesterday, I noticed we were running low and during the debrief I made sure to ask if they had more. Sure enough, a new can was brought for breakfast. But back to lunch.
Just as we were finishing enjoying our tea (or Milo), Alisa asked if the pitters on the mess tent were raindrops. It had been really windy, so my guess was that it was dust, since there is no lack of that.
Turns out the final hour to Moir Hut was some drips, then some drops, then some hail. Dad, you are cursing me from across the world! There was a sweet cave with a waterfall that I would've enjoyed much more if it had been at all sunny and not a mud put, but we got to camp and it was just down to a spritz.
I bopped around outside a bit (getting to camp gives me energy - just being able to take the pack off) and found a songbird that I followed around with my camera for a bit. He (the pretty-colored bird) led me to a pile of rocks were, all of a sudden, a brown nose with two beady black eyes poked out from the rocks. Among my first wild mammals in Africa! It is some sort of rock vole or ground squirrel or something. They are all around in the many rocks I've seen in my lifetime. I was delighted though.
I popped back into the tent to change into my sneakers and hear the rain start coming down. Through the crack in the tent, white stuff started hitting the ground. At tea and popcorn (and roasted peanuts today!), Taletha said that was the first snow she'd seen! There's a bit more as we head toward the mountain, but those flakes were enough for me for now.
Also at tea and popcorn, it was decided we would take a "one hour" (in African time) hike up to ridge. The sun had come out for a bit, so everyone was feeling good.
We had to get water, repack bags, grab raingear as the approaching clouds looked ominous, and putz around, so it was nearly 6pm when we started up.
It was steep, with some great rock scrambles, as well as windy. Of course, some spritzing started, so back on with the raingear.
The view from the top, of the near sunset, the clouds surrounding the plateau, and the waxing moon were fun to enjoy. Anyone with an international phone was pulling it out to try to get service (Airtel worked; Vodaphone did not).
I desperately needed to pee, and a windy, uncovered ridge wasn't all that tempting, so we started the charge down, slipping a bit on the scree along the way.
It was dark by the time we hit camp, and dinner was ready. Soup (don't know what kind, but wasn't as salty as the first nights') with some fried bread, pasta, meat, and vegetable sauce. As we get closer to the top, our diet is getting heavier on the carbs and less on the protein.
One debrief, by "Babu", another assistant guide, and we were off to try to stay warm and sleep above 4000 meters. I'm hoping my Diamox will kick in and give me a better night then last.
The fake Camelbak I gave Alisa yesterday was tested overnight (since the first day she got soaked), and proved to just need a bit of tightening. Every morning, they come to collect our empty water bottles, and chant "water for washing." The warm jug outside the tent is a get impetus to get up, but everything has to be packed before going to breakfast.
Our first three hours from Shira Camp 1 were hiking to and then over a ridge to another flat area. We had decided (at the behest of our guide, Bruce) to head to Moir Hut today, instead of Shira 2. We are sleeping a bit higher (at 4250 meters, I think), but are more acclimated (or a-climate-ized as the Aussies pronounce it).
I've been learning how to count in Swahili from the guides, and graduated to twenty today (though I can't remember it at the moment). Thomas, the assistant guide, starts by saying "moja", which is "one", then I have to dig through my low-oxygen brain to find the rest up to ten. Thankfully, ten through nineteen are just addition.
All was good up to lunch, which was some soup (as always - sadly not growing any fonder of soup during this trip), "propane" grilled cheese, and corn fritters that were delicious.
It is amazing the soup they can think up. Cucumber, carrot, sweet corn. We'll see what the count of types is at the end of the eight days.
With every meal comes hot water. Not a big tea fan, I've been opting for the Milo, which is a Nestlé product that might be similar to Ovaltine. Yesterday, I noticed we were running low and during the debrief I made sure to ask if they had more. Sure enough, a new can was brought for breakfast. But back to lunch.
Just as we were finishing enjoying our tea (or Milo), Alisa asked if the pitters on the mess tent were raindrops. It had been really windy, so my guess was that it was dust, since there is no lack of that.
Turns out the final hour to Moir Hut was some drips, then some drops, then some hail. Dad, you are cursing me from across the world! There was a sweet cave with a waterfall that I would've enjoyed much more if it had been at all sunny and not a mud put, but we got to camp and it was just down to a spritz.
I bopped around outside a bit (getting to camp gives me energy - just being able to take the pack off) and found a songbird that I followed around with my camera for a bit. He (the pretty-colored bird) led me to a pile of rocks were, all of a sudden, a brown nose with two beady black eyes poked out from the rocks. Among my first wild mammals in Africa! It is some sort of rock vole or ground squirrel or something. They are all around in the many rocks I've seen in my lifetime. I was delighted though.
I popped back into the tent to change into my sneakers and hear the rain start coming down. Through the crack in the tent, white stuff started hitting the ground. At tea and popcorn (and roasted peanuts today!), Taletha said that was the first snow she'd seen! There's a bit more as we head toward the mountain, but those flakes were enough for me for now.
Also at tea and popcorn, it was decided we would take a "one hour" (in African time) hike up to ridge. The sun had come out for a bit, so everyone was feeling good.
We had to get water, repack bags, grab raingear as the approaching clouds looked ominous, and putz around, so it was nearly 6pm when we started up.
It was steep, with some great rock scrambles, as well as windy. Of course, some spritzing started, so back on with the raingear.
The view from the top, of the near sunset, the clouds surrounding the plateau, and the waxing moon were fun to enjoy. Anyone with an international phone was pulling it out to try to get service (Airtel worked; Vodaphone did not).
I desperately needed to pee, and a windy, uncovered ridge wasn't all that tempting, so we started the charge down, slipping a bit on the scree along the way.
It was dark by the time we hit camp, and dinner was ready. Soup (don't know what kind, but wasn't as salty as the first nights') with some fried bread, pasta, meat, and vegetable sauce. As we get closer to the top, our diet is getting heavier on the carbs and less on the protein.
One debrief, by "Babu", another assistant guide, and we were off to try to stay warm and sleep above 4000 meters. I'm hoping my Diamox will kick in and give me a better night then last.
Hike Day 2 - Easy Peasy : Feb. 20
Last night I woke up with my heart racing, my body sweaty, and my bladder uncomfortable (and possibly still some jetlag) at some dark point in the morning. After calming the first three with a trip to the bathroom and a crack in the tent, I had a bit of time to listen to the bullfrogs and the acclimating farts and snores before falling back to sleep.
Our wake-up call, with some warm water and bottles filled for drinking, then guided us to the dining tent, which is a old fashioned tent with a table and eight chairs. Not really roughing it, huh?
Though from the hike today, getting to the summit is going to be hard but doable. This was our hardest day according to the guides, save the 16-hour day in five days we have to look forward to.
We started with some hard uphills in the forest, which were roots and dirt. We spotted a black and white monkey in a tree, which is apparently called a blue monkey. But two hours out of camp, the vegetation turned from trees with moss and leaves to scrub brush about eight to ten feet tall. We had entered the next climatic zone.
I really enjoyed getting into the rocky bush land. There were the stunning views, the (slightly) interesting geology, and the great scrambling up rocks. When I did rock-climbing camp in California in 2001 (with these same shoes... maybe it's time to retire them after this), scrambling was my favorite. Just a hike that got you using your hands and your brain.
When we stopped for lunch (which was delicious potato pancakes with vegetables), Stewart gave me a tip. Keep your heel up, he said. Step on little rocks with your heels and your tendon will appreciate you. Between that hint, my knee braces, and the variance of the hike, the final three hours to camp were dandy.
Just thirty minutes from camp, we rounded the bend and in front of us, finally, was Mt. Kilimanjaro. We still have to walk 180 degrees around it to our ascent path, but it will be mostly in our sights from here on out. Daunting, very daunting, but I was still skipping and in a good mood by the end of today, so I'm hoping I have the will.
Camp is more spread out, but still rent city. Tea and popcorn, some "Japanese time" with the mountain at sunset (which was behind us, but that's ok), and supper and the temperature had dropped twenty degrees (Fahrenheit - we've been getting our facts from Stewart and converting them. So maybe twenty is a bit of an exaggeration.)
We scurried to the tents, with some star-gazing while in line for the bathroom. I'm in the Southern Hemisphere for the first time, and don't recognize any stars. Except for Orion (which we might share) and the Little Dipper (which I was probably just making up). A new fascinating sky to learn. The moon is getting fuller and fuller. Our ascent is near!
Our wake-up call, with some warm water and bottles filled for drinking, then guided us to the dining tent, which is a old fashioned tent with a table and eight chairs. Not really roughing it, huh?
Though from the hike today, getting to the summit is going to be hard but doable. This was our hardest day according to the guides, save the 16-hour day in five days we have to look forward to.
We started with some hard uphills in the forest, which were roots and dirt. We spotted a black and white monkey in a tree, which is apparently called a blue monkey. But two hours out of camp, the vegetation turned from trees with moss and leaves to scrub brush about eight to ten feet tall. We had entered the next climatic zone.
I really enjoyed getting into the rocky bush land. There were the stunning views, the (slightly) interesting geology, and the great scrambling up rocks. When I did rock-climbing camp in California in 2001 (with these same shoes... maybe it's time to retire them after this), scrambling was my favorite. Just a hike that got you using your hands and your brain.
When we stopped for lunch (which was delicious potato pancakes with vegetables), Stewart gave me a tip. Keep your heel up, he said. Step on little rocks with your heels and your tendon will appreciate you. Between that hint, my knee braces, and the variance of the hike, the final three hours to camp were dandy.
Just thirty minutes from camp, we rounded the bend and in front of us, finally, was Mt. Kilimanjaro. We still have to walk 180 degrees around it to our ascent path, but it will be mostly in our sights from here on out. Daunting, very daunting, but I was still skipping and in a good mood by the end of today, so I'm hoping I have the will.
Camp is more spread out, but still rent city. Tea and popcorn, some "Japanese time" with the mountain at sunset (which was behind us, but that's ok), and supper and the temperature had dropped twenty degrees (Fahrenheit - we've been getting our facts from Stewart and converting them. So maybe twenty is a bit of an exaggeration.)
We scurried to the tents, with some star-gazing while in line for the bathroom. I'm in the Southern Hemisphere for the first time, and don't recognize any stars. Except for Orion (which we might share) and the Little Dipper (which I was probably just making up). A new fascinating sky to learn. The moon is getting fuller and fuller. Our ascent is near!
Hike Day 1 - Hurry up and "pole pole" - Feb. 19
We had our 7:30am pick-up after a final once-over our packing and a breakfast we were both too nervous to enjoy.
At 7:25am, one of the hotel staff came up to Alisa and told her a driver was downstairs with her coat! That delightful news was a brilliant start to our day, and we were off.
We took the same sketchy road to the same garden of paradise, but today, it was all abuzz. There were probably a hundred fifty people milling around, most hikers like us, some guides, some hotel guests, some hotel staff. We found the Kentucky Three (Tracy, Bob, and Erin) as well as Bruce, our guide. After bags-here, receipts-there, storage-way-over-there, and a cosy bus sit-and-wait, we were finally (30 minutes behind schedule) on our way to the registration area for Kilimanjaro.
The bus ride was a little sweaty, a little bumpy, and pretty merry as people were chatting about their reasons for coming, their backgrounds, and their concerns. The chatter (including some with some UK blokes) was nice, but about three hours in, everyone was ready for it to be over.
The countryside we were passing was fascinating. I was expecting arid land that was dusty and mostly deserted. We got roadside stands along a busy road with markets and huts. We got rolling countryside with carrots, potatoes, and cabbage being planted around indigenous tree for reintroduction. There were sunflower patches, and kids coming back from school in there uniforms and enthusiasm. Flocks of stork-like birds were in bare fields while termite mounds emerged from the earth every few hundred yards. It was much more picturesque than I expected.
Our weaving, dodgy drive discharged us at the registration station. Alisa and I, last off the bus, were the first to be taken to the register. We hand-wrote our names and sat down to get our box lunch. Not a minute later, we were told to find our bags. I marched over as Alisa watched our daypacks before returning to our white box of goodies.
The first treat was a bun, followed by one of those delicious little bananas and a lime-green fruit that tasted like an orange. Next was a mango juice box, a slice of cake, a hard-boiled egg, and (still stored in my bag) some sweet biscuit cookies. A hearty lunch for just sitting around so far.
And the sitting continued. First for an hour in the shade until we were a little chilled. Then for half an hour in the sun until we were toasted. Then another twenty minutes in the shade until they told us to pile back on the bus. "Pole pole" (poh-lee) is their mantra - slowly, slowly. That and "hakuna matata", which nearly everyone knows from "The Lion King." Except Stewart (an Australian traveling with his friend Duncan).
The eight of us (Duncan, Stewart, Bob, Tracy, Erin, Alisa, me, and another Aussie, Talitha) were anxious to get moving, and so we finally were at 2pm or so. When we got to the trailhead thirty minutes later and still had a four hour walk ahead, I was a bit leery.
But we started trotting along, chatting while climbing some steep grades just to come right back down. Stewart marked with his GPS watch that we climbed 700 meters and did six miles by the time we arrived at camp after sundown. We were shown our tents, fetched our stuff, and were given some warm water to wash with before heading to the mess tent for a pre-dinner snack of popcorn and tea. I didn't realize the Milo (Nesquick-like chocolate powder) was there until my third cup in.
Our meal was a starter of egg salad sandwiches, followed by salty cucumber soup (which was better than it sounds). The "mains", as the Aussies called them, we're potatoes and fish fillets, with a vegetable sauce (more like stew) on the side.
The eight of us chatted in the fifteen-foot by eight-foot tent while being served by candlelight. The only issue with the tight space was the crunched finger (Alisa's by me and my chair) and the squished toes (Tracy's by Aaron and his chair). All told, we had some laughs, did some cultural comparisons, and ate our heart out
Dessert was a slightly too-long speech by Bruce about our itinerary for tomorrow. We'll be exposed after the first two hours, so I'll be taking the sunhat Alisa bought and bargained for me. Talked them down from $15 to two for $20. It's a wonderful start, especially for someone that doesn't like bargaining. You go, girl!
At 7:25am, one of the hotel staff came up to Alisa and told her a driver was downstairs with her coat! That delightful news was a brilliant start to our day, and we were off.
We took the same sketchy road to the same garden of paradise, but today, it was all abuzz. There were probably a hundred fifty people milling around, most hikers like us, some guides, some hotel guests, some hotel staff. We found the Kentucky Three (Tracy, Bob, and Erin) as well as Bruce, our guide. After bags-here, receipts-there, storage-way-over-there, and a cosy bus sit-and-wait, we were finally (30 minutes behind schedule) on our way to the registration area for Kilimanjaro.
The bus ride was a little sweaty, a little bumpy, and pretty merry as people were chatting about their reasons for coming, their backgrounds, and their concerns. The chatter (including some with some UK blokes) was nice, but about three hours in, everyone was ready for it to be over.
The countryside we were passing was fascinating. I was expecting arid land that was dusty and mostly deserted. We got roadside stands along a busy road with markets and huts. We got rolling countryside with carrots, potatoes, and cabbage being planted around indigenous tree for reintroduction. There were sunflower patches, and kids coming back from school in there uniforms and enthusiasm. Flocks of stork-like birds were in bare fields while termite mounds emerged from the earth every few hundred yards. It was much more picturesque than I expected.
Our weaving, dodgy drive discharged us at the registration station. Alisa and I, last off the bus, were the first to be taken to the register. We hand-wrote our names and sat down to get our box lunch. Not a minute later, we were told to find our bags. I marched over as Alisa watched our daypacks before returning to our white box of goodies.
The first treat was a bun, followed by one of those delicious little bananas and a lime-green fruit that tasted like an orange. Next was a mango juice box, a slice of cake, a hard-boiled egg, and (still stored in my bag) some sweet biscuit cookies. A hearty lunch for just sitting around so far.
And the sitting continued. First for an hour in the shade until we were a little chilled. Then for half an hour in the sun until we were toasted. Then another twenty minutes in the shade until they told us to pile back on the bus. "Pole pole" (poh-lee) is their mantra - slowly, slowly. That and "hakuna matata", which nearly everyone knows from "The Lion King." Except Stewart (an Australian traveling with his friend Duncan).
The eight of us (Duncan, Stewart, Bob, Tracy, Erin, Alisa, me, and another Aussie, Talitha) were anxious to get moving, and so we finally were at 2pm or so. When we got to the trailhead thirty minutes later and still had a four hour walk ahead, I was a bit leery.
But we started trotting along, chatting while climbing some steep grades just to come right back down. Stewart marked with his GPS watch that we climbed 700 meters and did six miles by the time we arrived at camp after sundown. We were shown our tents, fetched our stuff, and were given some warm water to wash with before heading to the mess tent for a pre-dinner snack of popcorn and tea. I didn't realize the Milo (Nesquick-like chocolate powder) was there until my third cup in.
Our meal was a starter of egg salad sandwiches, followed by salty cucumber soup (which was better than it sounds). The "mains", as the Aussies called them, we're potatoes and fish fillets, with a vegetable sauce (more like stew) on the side.
The eight of us chatted in the fifteen-foot by eight-foot tent while being served by candlelight. The only issue with the tight space was the crunched finger (Alisa's by me and my chair) and the squished toes (Tracy's by Aaron and his chair). All told, we had some laughs, did some cultural comparisons, and ate our heart out
Dessert was a slightly too-long speech by Bruce about our itinerary for tomorrow. We'll be exposed after the first two hours, so I'll be taking the sunhat Alisa bought and bargained for me. Talked them down from $15 to two for $20. It's a wonderful start, especially for someone that doesn't like bargaining. You go, girl!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Moshi : Feb. 19
It was our lag day in Moshi. After watching tv last night until 10pm, I got to sleep (Alisa got to sleep a bit earlier... She also didn't care about the end of Lord of the Rings like I did, since she's watched it recently.)
At 4am, if you actually did the math on my last post (Tanzania is 8 hours ahead of EST right now), I woke up and found we could actually get Internet. Lots of people, one connection, I guess that's what you get.
But, surprisingly, we were able to get back to sleep! Yay not very much jetlag!
Breakfast was at the Panama Hotel where we stayed. The morning was a typical bargainfest - we walked through the market, had a guy lead us to an art shop, and then I spent half an hour cutting the ridiculous price in half. $9 per artwork was probably still too much, but we didn't mind.
When we got back, it was siesta time! We didn't know when we should be ready in the morning, so we had the receptionist call. That's when the fun started.
I got back up to the room to a wide-eyed, freaked-out Alisa. I left my heavy winter coat on the bus yesterday, she said. I'm going to have a panic attack.
Oh, and we were told that our orientation (surprise!) started in half an hour. A driver would pick us up.
Alisa was sketched out, and once we in the car, twenty minutes down a dirt road, I was starting to agree. Until we got to a gate that opened into a lush green garden. This was Springland Hotel, where we are staying the day after our trip ends. They have a pool and a garden. But we have A/C and all of Moshi to explore.
After twenty minutes of form-filling and an overview of tomorrow and the trip, we met our groups. We are with three 40-year-old guys from Kentucky, an Aussie gal around our age, and two mystery people that didn't show up. (They might not have been told...) Our rental gear was nearby, so we picked that up. The coat situation was explained, and we were given assurances they would look into it. The rental shop also has some, so there are appropriate back-up plans in place.
I, for one, am super excited about our group. Everyone seems about the same skill and social level, and I know one of the guys was a talking about a bourbon toast when we get to the top...
We got back to the room reenergized and spent an hour or two talking before traipsing to a recommended restaurant. "Indoitaliano" was both Indian and Italian, like it said. We had some Indian (of course) food and were food for (of course) a few mosquitoes. But we're taking anti-malarials, so take that!
Having a pharmacist along is hugely helpful, since I'm up to three pills a day. And she's my bestie! I'm so lucky.
One thing she is discovering about the developing world, though, is a lack of communication and "professionalism." From the pick-up guy at the airport, to the flat tire, to the surprise orientation, the lack of knowledge about our rental gear and when we were paying for the extra stuff, I have come to terms with a lot of stuff just eventually gets worked out, but not in any organized or necessarily timely matter. Alisa is just getting used to it. I'm hoping that once we only have one guy (Bruce, our guide) that briefs us everyday, we'll have a chance at understanding what's going on. Until then, we will just show up with our stuff at the front of the hotel tomorrow and hope there's a shuttle.
Here's to Kili and not climbing in our stuff sacks!
At 4am, if you actually did the math on my last post (Tanzania is 8 hours ahead of EST right now), I woke up and found we could actually get Internet. Lots of people, one connection, I guess that's what you get.
But, surprisingly, we were able to get back to sleep! Yay not very much jetlag!
Breakfast was at the Panama Hotel where we stayed. The morning was a typical bargainfest - we walked through the market, had a guy lead us to an art shop, and then I spent half an hour cutting the ridiculous price in half. $9 per artwork was probably still too much, but we didn't mind.
When we got back, it was siesta time! We didn't know when we should be ready in the morning, so we had the receptionist call. That's when the fun started.
I got back up to the room to a wide-eyed, freaked-out Alisa. I left my heavy winter coat on the bus yesterday, she said. I'm going to have a panic attack.
Oh, and we were told that our orientation (surprise!) started in half an hour. A driver would pick us up.
Alisa was sketched out, and once we in the car, twenty minutes down a dirt road, I was starting to agree. Until we got to a gate that opened into a lush green garden. This was Springland Hotel, where we are staying the day after our trip ends. They have a pool and a garden. But we have A/C and all of Moshi to explore.
After twenty minutes of form-filling and an overview of tomorrow and the trip, we met our groups. We are with three 40-year-old guys from Kentucky, an Aussie gal around our age, and two mystery people that didn't show up. (They might not have been told...) Our rental gear was nearby, so we picked that up. The coat situation was explained, and we were given assurances they would look into it. The rental shop also has some, so there are appropriate back-up plans in place.
I, for one, am super excited about our group. Everyone seems about the same skill and social level, and I know one of the guys was a talking about a bourbon toast when we get to the top...
We got back to the room reenergized and spent an hour or two talking before traipsing to a recommended restaurant. "Indoitaliano" was both Indian and Italian, like it said. We had some Indian (of course) food and were food for (of course) a few mosquitoes. But we're taking anti-malarials, so take that!
Having a pharmacist along is hugely helpful, since I'm up to three pills a day. And she's my bestie! I'm so lucky.
One thing she is discovering about the developing world, though, is a lack of communication and "professionalism." From the pick-up guy at the airport, to the flat tire, to the surprise orientation, the lack of knowledge about our rental gear and when we were paying for the extra stuff, I have come to terms with a lot of stuff just eventually gets worked out, but not in any organized or necessarily timely matter. Alisa is just getting used to it. I'm hoping that once we only have one guy (Bruce, our guide) that briefs us everyday, we'll have a chance at understanding what's going on. Until then, we will just show up with our stuff at the front of the hotel tomorrow and hope there's a shuttle.
Here's to Kili and not climbing in our stuff sacks!
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Tired, disgusting... And finding adventure! : Feb. 17
We milled off the plane (the same way we got on), quickly flashed our yellow fever certificates, then milled about the custom forms table. There was actually a line to buy our visas ($100, if you are interested in going), and then milled about one of the stations to get fingerprinted and through customs.
We had arranged an airport pickup, which I knew was going to be interesting. When we hadn't seen our driver in ten minutes, Alisa was starting to worry. It was probably 85 degrees outside where we were standing, so just adding to the layers of sweat from the plane trip. Thankfully, our driver showed up shortly thereafter and we were on our way with eight Norwegians and two people from Colorado.
But that was short-lived. First the driver had one of the other groups boys help him hit the tire back into place. (Didn't really understand that part.) Another few miles down the road, the tire blew off completely. (I understood that part.)
The Norwegian adventurers trekked to a bar across the street (a shack-like structure with an overhang and a fridge). Alisa and I soon joined, and chatted with them, goggled at the "outdoor pool" (a billiards table under an awing), and drank most of our $1 Kilimanjaro beer before the bus was done being repaired.
We had arranged an airport pickup, which I knew was going to be interesting. When we hadn't seen our driver in ten minutes, Alisa was starting to worry. It was probably 85 degrees outside where we were standing, so just adding to the layers of sweat from the plane trip. Thankfully, our driver showed up shortly thereafter and we were on our way with eight Norwegians and two people from Colorado.
But that was short-lived. First the driver had one of the other groups boys help him hit the tire back into place. (Didn't really understand that part.) Another few miles down the road, the tire blew off completely. (I understood that part.)
The Norwegian adventurers trekked to a bar across the street (a shack-like structure with an overhang and a fridge). Alisa and I soon joined, and chatted with them, goggled at the "outdoor pool" (a billiards table under an awing), and drank most of our $1 Kilimanjaro beer before the bus was done being repaired.
On to Africa! : Feb. 17, 2013
The flight allowed for five movies each and no sleeping. Everytime I tried, they turned the lights back on to serve us food. Food that I heartily enjoyed (thank you, Ethiopian Airlines), but it made it difficult to sleep.
Alisa and I haven't set enough goals on this trip, so we are determined to finish this crossword puzzle books. The floor at Addis Ababa is as good a place as any.
Alisa and I haven't set enough goals on this trip, so we are determined to finish this crossword puzzle books. The floor at Addis Ababa is as good a place as any.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Off to Kilimajaro
I spent the hour between check-in and boarding calling my credit and debit cards to tell them my travel plans. Our flight is through Addis Ababa on the way out, then connects there and Rome on the way back, so had to list off Tanzania and Ethiopia and Italy. Someone thinks I'm having a crazy trip. Which Alisa and I are, just not partying in Italy or Ethiopia for more than two hours.
We have a full day in Moshi after we arrive to acclimate to the time. Acclimating to the altitude is the point of the whole climb. We'll see how we do!
We have a full day in Moshi after we arrive to acclimate to the time. Acclimating to the altitude is the point of the whole climb. We'll see how we do!
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