A few tears were shed as I reluctantly pulled away from my partner’s tight embrace and made my way through the departure gates at Tullamarine. He soon disappeared from view and I was then alone, faced with the enormity of what I was about to embark upon.
Feelings of apprehension overshadowed any notion of excitement at this stage as the fear of taking on this trek got the better of me. I endured the first few long haul flights and was then on the final leg from Abu Dhabi to Dar Es Saalam, Tanzania. I settled into my window seat, the warm Abu Dhabi sun punched through the tiny window as I stared out to the tarmac. Transfixed by the scene of the frenetic activity of ground handlers working their magic I started to think deeply about why I was so anxious about this trip. Yes I was leaving my partner behind and yes I was about to climb a very high mountain for which I felt somewhat unprepared for, but it’s not like I hadn’t done hard core treks before because I had. I’d also travelled solo before with no issues. My conteplation was interrupted as the airhostess handed me a refresher towel. It wasn’t until I gently tore it open and released the eye-watering strong fragrance — the smell that somehow always signifies an experience of exotic hospitality — that I was able to finally release a deep sigh of relief. As the soft, moist tissue engulfed my face, I finally felt the anxiety leave my body, replaced by the joyful realisation that ‘I was on holidays….AND I was about to CLIMB MT KILIMANJARO! HOLY MOLY!! The heart flutters switched from nervous to excited and a rediculous crazed smile took hold of me. I somehow felt that my trusty old adventurous spirit had just clicked into gear, just in the nick of time as I was about to set foot on African soil.
Fast forward a week and I’d been in Moshi, Tanzania enjoying a few days of relaxation and preparation before the big climb. I’d met a fellow traveller at my hotel - Emma. She was a young Aussie who had considerable hiking experience (including Kokoda) and would be my tent buddy. We met our G-Adventures crew members including Bruno who was our Tour Guide or ‘CEO’ ‘Chief Experience Officer’ as they call them. We also met our tour commrades - Steph from Canada, and 3 young German guys who were all kitted out and ready for action! They were all younger than me and looked to be extremely fit. I was starting to question my age and abilities as the nervous thoughts returned.
To Diamox or not to Diamox that was the question
It was the night before we commenced the climb and Emma and I sat in the hotel bar deliberating over whether to take our acclimatisation medication or not. As we chatted, we stared out the window of the bar and our challenge was staring us square in the face — there she was in all her beauty — the dizzying heights of Mt Kilimanjaro’s summit, so high that she was poking her head through the clouds right there in front of us. The no fear young Germans popped the pills without question but we agonised over it, discussing the pro’s and conns and looking at online forums to see what others had done. It was a tough decision because these little pills could either make our experience much easier or equally, had the potential to make it a hell of a lot worse. There is no assurance that people will indeed suffer the effects of altitude sickness in the first place. Many don’t. If you trek slowly and have an acclimation day built into the itinerary, it allows the body to adjust and chances are that you might avoid any nasty headaches, vomiting and other issues. Taking the pill could reduce symptoms of altitude sickness but it could also have harmful side effects which may also impact on our experience and ability to make it to the top.
However, the longer we anguished over it and stared at the daunting great massif rising 5895m before us, the more we were convinced - we will need all the help we can get!
We popped our first pill and high fived our first moment of bravery.
The journey - G-Adventures Machame route, June 2018. Day 1
I couldn’t wait to get moving up that mountain. After so much anticipation, self doubt, anxiety and waiting around at the starting point for paperwork to be done, I was itching to just make a start.
The first day was supposed to be an easy walk but it was all uphill and there were some seriously steep sections. We were in the rainforest zone and we climbed from an altitude of 1640m to 2835m. Highlights included our lunch on the log and the sighting of a black and white colobus monkey that was frolicking in the forest. They were so cool - they looked like a shaggy skunk. There wasn’t a lot of conversation today as we all tried to find our groove, test out our walking gear and see how our bodies held up as we climbed and climbed. I downed 3 litres of water effortlessly. Upon arrival at camp at around 6pm, our G-fighters (the affectionate name given to the porters and staff) had popcorn and tea ready for us. It was a pleasant location and this would be the first time we’d see our sleeping quarters. The two-man tents were quite small and our bags were to be left outside under the little annex. The toilet block was okay - they were drop toilets but didn’t contain the funky smells that you’d expect.. Dinner was wholesome and plentiful - cucumber soup, chips, fish, veggies and avocado salad—quite delicious! We all enjoyed dinner and chats in the mess tent before calling it a night.
I slept like a baby, the mattress was thick and my sleeping bag warm, however one side effect of the Diamox was an intense need to pee. I had my first experience of this in the middle of the night when I had to frantically unzip myself from the grasp of my sleeping bag, throw on my thongs, slap on my head torch and make a mad dash to the loo. This ended up being my routine for the rest of the trip, only some nights I’d have to pee just outside the tent as I knew I couldn’t quite make it to the toilet blocks in time!
Day 2
The routine each morning involved our guide checking our oxygen and heart rate. Both looking good for me at this point. Today we hiked 5km from Machame to Shira Camp. The scenery was breathtaking. We could see Mt Meru and then later in the day, the Kibo Peak. Kilimanjaro is a dormant volcano and has 3 volcanic cones - Kibo, Mawenzi, and Shira. Uhuru Peak is the highest summit on Kibo's crater rim and that’s where we would eventually end up if all goes according to plan. Today was a scenic track through lots of heath shrubs, steep rocks and general hard yakka. Lunch was vegetable curry which was a nice surprise. When I hike, I tend to fantasise about delicious food. A nice hearty lunch on a big hike is akin to jumping into cold water on a 40 degree day. We arrived into camp at about 1pm to a welcome ceremony by the G-fighers. They danced and sang something in Swahili. This may be a generalisation but all Africans I’ve ever met are incredible dancers. They just have this innate ability to move their hips and feel the rhythm. It’s an utter delight to be present and coaxed in to joining the African dance, despite how unco I probably looked. Later this arvo, there was an optional short hike to the ridge for a clear perspective of Kibo which I obliged in and was rewarded with a quiet moment of solitude to soak it all in.
Overall a really amazing day and I was feeling a little tired but in good spirits.
Day 3
My morning pee was one of the most memorable of the trip. As I made my way back to the tent in the early hours of the morning, there was an enormous bright full moon hovering above the clouds in the valley. There was also a layer of frost on the vegetation, glistening in the moonlight. I can’t even find the fancy words to describe this scene, it was just magic. I sat on a rather uncomfortable rock and just soaked in the view for a few minutes. I could feel another ‘refresher towel moment’ with a rush of elation and a feeling of utter contentment at being in a remote and absolutely beautiful part of the world, in nature’s hands. The moon has always been a bit of kindred spirit for me, I get enormous joy and inspiration from just looking at it and feeling it’s presence. A full moon has often grounded me and guided me in times of soul searching or rough patches. I didn’t realise there would be a full moon during the hike so it gave me a little half time pep talk that I needed to kick on and play by best in the second half.
After setting off at 8am we made the slow journey to Lava Tower. Today was a long day, 10km all up and we moved into an altitude of 4600m. Today was always going to be a hard day as we’d reach a high altitude but then come down to camp in order to acclimatise. There are five distinct climate zones as you move up Kili - they are civilization/agricultural areas, rainforest, heather-moorland, Alpine Desert and Summit eternal ice zone. I had a tiny headache but it soon dissolved as we pushed on. Today we’d moved from Moorland to arctic desert. Rocky paths paved the way again today which tested my concentration and pole manoeuvring skills. My pole technique was terrible. I always hated using poles but they were absolutely necessary on this climb with all the ups and downs and rocks to negotiate. The scenery was again spectacular. We were now well and truly above the cloud line and The Alpine Desert was barren yet so profound. Dendrosenecio kilimanjari - giant 5 metre thick trunked trees with a spikey green top were everywhere. They reminded me a bit of the U2 Joshua Tree album cover for some reason. Giant boulders were strewn all over the carpet of black volcanic soil. I was tired and hurting yet I couldn’t stop smiling for the landscape was so damn special. As there was no dense vegetation, our toilet breaks were taken behind the big boulders instead, this often required walking for longer than intended to find an appropriate boulder to discreetly squat behind.
There was a light wind on the mountain today and it got quite cold — time to thrown on the windbreaker and beanie. Today was busy too with more people than we’d seen the previous few days. I think this is the point where many of the routes intersect before heading for the summit —mostly lots of annoying American groups led by highly animated tour guides — all in an enormous hurry! We took it at our usual slow pace and moved aside so they could overtake us.
We could clearly see Kibo now and It looked so clear and so accessible, so deceiving! How hard could it be I thought.
By the time we arrived at camp I was absolutely buggered. I think the altitude affected me today more than I’d realised. I had an early night after dinner. My energy levels were low and I also vomited in the middle of the night. I had a squirmy tummy and couldn’t work out if it’s what I’d eaten or the altitude. Either way, I felt crap and didn’t sleep much. The toilet block was miles away tonight too so my routine middle of the night pee was a forced squat just outside the tent, same place I’d spewed a few hours earlier! What had I become? So disgusting. I felt for Emma having to be so close to my uncontrollable bodily functions.
Day 4
Today we had to climb the Barranco Wall, one of the hardest days of the hike. I awoke with stomach cramps, no energy and serious reservations about how I was going to manage today’s hike. I couldn’t eat any brekkie, despite my guide telling me I have to eat. I just couldn’t stomach anything. Our guide had told us a story about how one of his guests had broken his leg trying to get up Barranco Wall. We’d heard numerous other horror stories too. Surely it can’t be that bad or else no one would make it past this point.
One of our heroic guides carried my day pack for me today which was a huge help considering I had zero energy. Today’s hike was hard but Barranco wall was not nearly as scary as I’d anticipated. It was actually an awesome adventure with a little bit of rock climbing to make us feel like real adventurers. I had to lift my legs high to step up the rocks, crushing my tummy in the process and stirring up even more cramps! It really was not pleasant but I had to keep telling myself cramps and the possibility of having to do an emergency crap somewhere on the rock face was surely better than a broken leg and a costly evacuation from the mountain. Again, it was the adventure of it all and the impressive views that distracted me from my own self pity as I hauled my sorry arse over that wall, without any embarrassing incidents.
Despite the wall not being as bad as I’d imagined, I was still extremely tired upon arrival at camp. I tried to force some food down and then couldn’t wait to collapse into bed. At midnight tonight, we were to commence our summit climb and I honestly didn’t know if I had it in me. Every muscle in my body ached and although my tummy was starting to feel a little better, I felt defeated. I felt so exhausted and just wanted to have a nice big sleep in and a hot bath.
I remembered back to the Oxfam Trailwaker I’d done a few years ago. A 100km walk that my team and I completed in 34 hours of non stop walking. My saviour for this walk was ibuprofen. For someone like me that is anti drugs of any kind, it somehow felt necessary to have some medication to get me through this. I popped two ibuprofen before bed tonight in the hope it would work it’s magic this time round too. I gently fell asleep for a deep 5 hours.
Summit day - Day 5
I haven’t mentioned how freezing it’s been the last few days. I’d been sleeping in every bit of clothing I had, including my thick down jacket. I felt vile, my clothes were stinky, my hair unwashed and with permanent beanie hat hair and I was no doubt windburn and looking as old as I felt. I’d really repulsed myself the last few days with the spewing, non stop peeing and filth.
Today we were woken by the porters at midnight. The usual routine prevailed - ‘washy washy’ was called out - this is where the porters bring a hot bucket of water for us to have a wash. But putting some warm water on my face was not enough to remove the filthy feeling. They also bring a hot drink to help us warm up before we emerge from our cosy sleeping bags. But today was not like the other days. There’d be no leisurely pack up, brekkie and easy slide into the mountain routine, because today was THE Day. There was no time to muck around, or get an extra 5 minutes rest in the sleeping bag. We were on a mission and despite how little sleep we’d had, despite the crap day I’d had yesterday, I had to find the strength to detach myself from the comfort of my sleeping bag, throw my boots on and get to it. The Ibuprofen and sleep had indeed helped me to feel a little more human. My body no longer ached, it was tired but I had a lot more energy and agility than when my head hit the pillow 5 hours before. Today was the day and I was ready.
We were all in good spirits and for the first time, I really felt the comradery at play and the magnitude of what we were experiencing together. The guides were absolutely incredible. They were all about safety first and ensured we were all as prepared as much as we could be for the next, most important section of the hike.
Bruno, our head guide, took the lead and we all formed a line behind him, carefully tracing his steps as we navigated our way over some big rocks and up into the sleet. Walking in the dark was challenging at this altitude. I felt so incredibly sleepy and having to look down constantly to find my footing had me in a trance. I was literally sleep walking. The cold was unbearable. I soon couldn’t feel my fingers and therefore couldn’t properly grip the poles. I started freaking out thinking that frostbite would claim my fingers. I had to compose myself and stop thinking ridiculous thoughts.
We were walking in a line, one foot forward, then the other. We reached about 5000m and the young guys in the group wanted to break free from us and push ahead. One of our guides headed off with them. That left us three girls with one guide and a porter each. Emma began to struggle a bit, so Bruno hung back with her. Steph and I trudged on with our two porters but it was getting harder and harder. By now, we were no longer walking in scree but thick snow. It was hard yakka. I had to keep looking up to give my eyes some reprieve and prevent me from closing them. I felt so drowsy. I consciously took deep breaths and really sucked the air into my lungs.
Mindfulness was my friend at this point. I chanted an om mantra I’d learnt in India. I told myself to ‘hustle’ I also told myself this is it, just keep going, you’re doing well, push through the pain. I blocked all thoughts, focused on my breathing, my feet, on staying awake and on just ‘pole pole’ (slowly, slowly, in Swahili) but kept moving. Every step was one step closer.
Before I knew it, my porter and I were ahead of Steph and her porter. It was now just my porter Hussain and I going up and up. My water had frozen, so there was a few hours where I couldn’t drink anything. As the sun got closer to rising, the temperatures warmed up and the water defrosted. Hussain made me stop for breaks to drink and snack even though I was determined to push on and keep my momentum. Hussain was my angel. He was so supportive, so patient and so reliable. He ended up carrying my day pack, as well as his own which was a heroic effort that I was so grateful for.
Before I knew it, the sun was beginning to rise and lo and behold we had arrived at Stella Point, the rest stop before taking on the last 40 minutes to the summit. I could have cried. The last few hours of concentration and pain had flown by and I couldn’t believe I’d made it this far. The warm light of the sun was now illuminating the jagged carpet of glaciers - it was a surreal sight and one that will be forever planted in my memory.
We didn’t stay here long, I wanted to push on and get to the top. I felt good, still a little drowsy but not sore. The ibuprofen had worked wonders. 10 minutes further along and we bumped into the Germans and their porter who’d made it to the summit and were on their way back down. They stopped and high fived me and we all congratulated each other. In their minds, I’d already made it to the top and they were stoked for me. They gave me encouragement to keep going and I was so pleased to see some familiar faces and share that moment with them. They all looked very tired and emotional. So many people that were coming down the mountain stopped to wish me well, the benevolence was uplifting!
Then the moment arrived. Hussain and I got our first glimpse of the summit and the familiar prayer flags and monument that signify we’d made it. I was relieved beyond comprehension and so bloody proud. It was eerily quiet up there though, not even a breath of wind, just the sound of my clothes rubbing as I walked. There were only about 4 others there at the time. During the hike, I’d dreamily envisaged our tour group all reaching the summit in unison, high fives and hugs and a celebratory atmosphere. This wasn’t the case and to be honest, the lack of people around me made it feel like an anti-climax. I wanted to at least get the obligatory selfie pic but my phone battery had died because of the cold so I just stood there and scanned around the 360 degree view and tried to implant this view into my memory bank. Hussain didn’t speak English but he was by my side and I could not have been more proud and in awe of this man for helping me navigate the biggest challenge of my life. I got chatting to the other women at the top. Turns out one of them was from Melbourne! Her fancy iPhone seemed to be working okay so I asked her to take a pic of me and Hussain and gave her my details so she could email it to me.
After a tough few days, I wanted to spend hours just sitting at the summit to soak it but we were on a tight schedule and had to tackle the huge descent. I think we only spent about 10 minutes there before heading off. I was hoping that Steph might be close behind me and that we could enjoy the summit together but she didn’t arrive. We did pass her a little further down though which was awesome. No sign of Emma though and we found out that she’d got to Stella Point and was happy to turn around from there, which many people do.
Coming down the mountain
For the entire hike, I’d worn my Solomon hiking shoes. They were well worn in and so comfy and were my tried and tested hiking companions. For the summit day however, we were told to wear boots with ankle support. I did have some boots with me too so I reluctantly wore them, however they were not properly worn in and were a lot tighter than my hiking shoes. I soon regretted this. My toes were jammed into the front of the boots all the way down and I just knew I’d be one of those that loses their toenails as a result.
Coming down was much harder than going up. My feet were struggling to get a grip on the scree and I kept slipping over. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t stay upright. Hussain decided it was safer to hold my hand coming down. I’m glad he did although he was leading me down way too fast and I felt too rushed. I had to keep saying ‘pole pole’ and break away from his grip so I could negotiate tricky sections on my own. The walk down took 6 long hours and my mindfulness practice was being tested to the max. I was beyond exhausted, fed up and just wanted to lay down and call in the chopper to come and rescue me. We eventually spotted the campsite down in the valley. It looked so close but it took another 1.5 hours to get there! Another porter arrived to relieve Hussain. He carried my pack and practically carried me while Hussain had a much needed break. Poor thing did it so tough carrying two backpacks and holding me upright for 10 hours!
Upon reaching the campsite, I was handed a mango juice and boy I’ll never forget how refreshing every sip of that juice was! My feet were in agony and I could feel what I thought was blood on my feet, I was scared to take my boot off and see what was inside. Hussain undid my gaitors and unlaced my boots and gently extracted my feet. I gently peeled off my socks to see the damage. Luckily all toes and toenails in tact but heavy bruising and they didn’t look good. (I later lost my toenails once I got back to Australia). Once the shoes were off I hovered over to my tent and collapsed on the mattress. Emma was there and we could hardly muster up energy to even speak. We congratulated each other but thanked fuck it was over. But it wasn’t over yet. We were told we had only half an hour to rest and then we had to pack up the tent and walk 2 hours to the next camp site. The sun was warm and beating through the canvas. I stripped off some layers and just took a moment to let my body rest. I was so chuffed with myself but didn’t have the energy to smile and acknowledge my achievement because my focus was on getting my body ready for the next section.
I don’t know how I mustered the energy to walk to the next camp site. I somehow managed to negotiate my bruised toes into a fresh pair of socks and into my trusty Solomon’s. We hiked over big rocks, and along warm never-ending paths, cursing all the way, until we arrived. I’d walked 14 hours today, I was hurting and I was in a fowl mood.
Dinner in the mess tent was quite sombre, despite us all having made it to the top. It was like we all knew we would make it, and we did, and now we just wanted this walk to be over. For me, it was about nurturing my body back to health. I ate quickly so I could get to bed. My clothes had an extra layer of stench and I felt so disgusting that I didn’t want to even be seen by the group.
Day 6
Today was the final day of hiking and we would soon be at the hotel where we could shower and phone home. This was my motivation for every step of the way today.
As I packed up the tent and looked around, I was reflective and a little sad to be leaving this mountain routine and pristine landscape. As per usual, the views and the scenery didn’t disappoint. I couldn’t believe just how stunning this entire walk had been. Today was hiking back into the rainforest - gnarly trees, interesting vegetation, treacherous rocky paths and sun rising over the mountains. Us girls once again went slowly whilst the guys took off ahead. Emma was hating today, she was so over it. I was like that yesterday so I just gave her a little space as she walked on her own. I hiked with Bruno and Steph and Steph was very chatty, a little too chatty for my liking, so I tried to also walk ahead and alone. I just needed to have my thoughts and my breath, nothing else.
The last few kilometres of the trail was all mud. Thick mud. I didn’t think it was possible to get any more putrid, but it was possible. Today’s 11km hike went pretty fast though and it was all downhill. We arrived at the end by around midday. I was beyond relieved to see that gate at the finish point. We got our boots cleaned by some entrepreneurial guys who had set up a little cleaning service. We posed for a group photo at the gate and then got the hell out of there.
It wasn’t until after I was showered and had spoken to my partner at home that I felt relaxed and could smile again. We all met at the bar for a beer and a chat once we’d had a wash and a wardrobe change. This same bar is where we sat a week ago with the Diamox dilemma. Now when we looked out the window to that mountain in the distance, we looked at her with a newfound respect and love, for we had got to know her nooks and crannies intimately; experienced every aspect of her character, and in turn discovered the depths of our own character. I will never again look at pictures of Mount Kilimanjaro without thinking of this adventure and my intimate connection to this place of immense beauty. The beers were going to my head and I felt elated as I exchanged stories and photos with these fellow intrepid travellers. We reflected on what we’d achieved and I knew that I was empowered to take on anything that life threw at me in the future.
I also knew that having the privelege to travel to such remote parts of the world, is only justifiable if I can travel sustainably and give back to the local communities where I can. In doing this trek, I raised over $2500 from friends and family for the PAMS foundation — a conservation organisation that is protecting the wilderness and wildlife of Tanzania. Setting up a fundraising page like this is easy. I used Go Fund Me but there are plenty more.
Have I inspired you to climb Kilimanjaro?
If so, it’s so important to ensure you are booking your trek with a reputable ethical company. I am in awe of the wonderful humans that earn a living from traipsing up and down this epic mountain for the sake of us visitors that seek the thrill of climbing it for pleasure. I made sure I chose a tour operator that pays their staff well and provides them with good working conditions. Tour Operators should be members of an organisation called the Kilimanjaro Porters Assistance Project. Chek their website to see if your chosen tour operator is listed: KPAP. At the time of typing this, G Adventures, Intrepid and Abercrombie & Kent are all members. I’d always recommend to people doing this tour to budget extra money for tipping the local staff a little extra. There are small tips that are mandatory but trust me, you’ll want to tip them more once you see how hard they work for you. Don’t be stingy on this part. If you can’t afford the tips for the locals, you can’t afford to travel. Trip notes provided by the tour company will also provide a tipping guideline/budget, I’d suggest add 15% to that.
If you are contemplating doing this trek, reach out to me and I’d love to give you some more tips and tricks.