The Up's and Down's of Mt. Kilimanjaro - Part 2

6 February 2016, Saturday

Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania – Kilimanjaro and Moshi, Tanzania

Blaring traffic, the smell of car and truck fumes, and sticky, humid, nasty heat as an alarm clock. Ouch.

Much like flying from Johannesburg to Durban, the flight to Kilimanjaro International was a case of leaving the dust and grime behind in Dar, and watching the landscape transform into a patchwork of greens and oranges and yellows. And as we neared the end of our 45 minute flight, we saw the odd mountain. My first mountains in a year!

A mountain!

As luck would have it, I changed from my original seat on the right hand side of the aircraft to sit next to my friend on the left hand side of the aircraft, and of course, we sailed through the air with Mt. Kilimanjaro to our right. Hopefully I will get a proper view of the mountain from the ground.

Kilimanjaro Airport is rather quaint, and the drive to Moshi reminded me a little of Maun, Botswana. Only more green. With more hills. Less sand. Less cows and donkeys. More goats and sheep. More traffic. Better roads. More shops. But otherwise, totally the same.

Cloud had settled over the mountain, so I would need to exercise some serious patience about seeing the challenge that awaited me. I did get to see Mt. Meru, and that gave me a little spark of fear; that is but a speedbump compared to Kilimanjaro!

Mt. Meru

Mt. Meru

Moshi itself reminded me of Durban, with its smooth single-lane roads flanked by greenery. Absolutely beautiful.

Outskirts of Moshi

Eventually, just before we got to the hotel, I caught a glimpse of the peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro poking through the clouds. What have I let myself in for?!

First peek of Mt. Kilimanjaro

The hotel that the company I booked through put us in isn’t too bad. A lekker big swimming pool, basic rooms, a rather plain restaurant and bar area. Nothing fancy, and basically you get what you pay for.

I had a crepe for lunch. Well, it was advertised as a crepe, but presented as a very thick, not-particularly-sweet pancake. Tasty though.

While I was sitting in the main area, jotting down some notes and testing out my phone’s fancy new solar charger (purchased just two days previously), I chatted to some of the other tourists. They thought I was a tou rguide from Denmark! Now that was a first (normally people think I’m from New Zealand or the UK because of my unusual accent).

I got to meet the other 4 climbers in my group. Seems like they all met previously, so it feels a little odd. But thanks to my work, I have grown used to strangers, and I am sure I will feel comfortable around them relatively quickly (in the past I would run screaming from the room… okay, not really, but I was really, really shy).

We got along really well, and are all around the same age, which is good.

Normally there is the usual small-talk of who you are, what you do, blah blah blah. But it was pretty clear we are all focused on the upcoming climb, when we asked climbing-related questions. “How much hiking experience do you have?”

Uhm, er, uh, well, zero. I used to live with a mountain on my doorstep, but now I live in a country that is almost completely flat. My only exercise is walking maybe 4km at work every day. But that’s at a very chilled pace. They also said they had limited experience, but I later discovered they were just being very modest about it. Oh dear…

For dinner I tried a Swahili Omelette, which is like a regular omelette, only they add French fries. Carbo-loading, anyone?

I was starting to worry a little. What if I end up holding the entire group back? What if I’m the weak link? What if this? What if that?

But, I survived the Cape Argus in 2014. 110km of cycling, and just under 7 hours in the saddle (because I didn’t train for that either!).

I can do this.

Right?