Setting up camp on our way to the summit.

There was that time I went to Tanzania to climb the highest mountain in Africa, Mount Kilimanjaro. This trip was something out of the ordinary for me in two ways: it was my first time summiting a high mountain, and - for the first time ever - I hadn't actually paid for the entire trip myself! Now, that's for a promising start, right? This trip was in fact the result of Facebook travel photo competition the Danish travel agency Kilroy had launched - which I won! My price for sharing my best travel photo with them was nothing less than a 1500 Euros gift certificate that "just happened" to cover the majority of the cost of climbing Kilimanjaro. Yay! Off to Tanzania then!

Because this was an organised trip (I'm usually too stingy to go that way when I'm paying for it myself!), it started out with a night at a luxury hotel (so not my usual style of travelling, but OMG!). On the first day I met my tent mate, Jaquiline from Ireland, and the rest of my trekking mates. These people would prove the best company one could wish for when spending a week on a dirty mountain with good food and no showers! Partyyyy!!!

On our first night we all gathered around the outdoor hotel bar (because drinks), and then we spent the entire evening and most of the night getting to know each other and fantasising about how raw, brutal, and amazing we were positive the trip up the mountain would be (because Africa). We set out for the mountain the next morning, and the mood amongst the group was over the top in the bus all the way to the Macheme gate! Once there we all assembled at the entrance and started snapping a disproportionate number of photos of each trekker standing in front of the gate, as if we were afraid people might come out claiming we were never there at all. Once the lunch packs had been handed out and the water bottles filled, we started making our way up the mountain.

During the week we would come to learn a few mountain rules:

1: You are to take three litres of water everyday and FINISH them! The punishment for not finishing was the remaining water down your throat forcefully via hopper (that's a lie of course, but threats about it were made on a daily basis!).

2: Good food must come in inexcusable abundance (I liked that one!).

3: Every day our arrival at the next camp would be celebrated by our crew singing and dancing - and occasionally insisting that we join them, making us look like complete idiots since - unlike our crew - we couldn't effortlessly jump around and dance at high altitude.

4: Obtaining the proper mountain look (which is surprisingly close to that of a hobo) is a process the group would endure. Together. 

5: You cry when you reach the summit. Yes, you do! Or you didn't work hard enough to get there.

On the first day of the trek, we walked up slowly through a lush forest landscape. We made it to the first camp at around 3000 metres, and to my delight I hadn't felt the altitude yet (hint: that would change in the days to come!). I realised that night though that I had brought way too little warm clothes with me. Because Kili wasn't the only mountain trip I had been planning (I was going to the Caucasus to climb another mountain only a few days after getting home from Kili), I had somehow managed to convince myself that Kili wouldn't be anywhere near as could as the Caucasus (which wasn't wrong, but it was still much colder on Kili than I had expected!). As a result, many of my nights on Kili turned into a bit of a struggle to stay comptable in the many layers on clothing I had to wear in order to stay warm (thank god for tent mates that are much better prepared than me and have brought spare clothes!). Fortunately, every night was quickly forgotten with the start of every day, which gave me plenty of opportunity to warm up again as I fought my way up into higher and higher altitude.

On the second day much of the route went steeply uphill, and it had me feeling the altitude much more than on the first day. This was disappointing, as I was training for a marathon at the time and thought myself to be in good shape - guess the mountain thought differently! The prize at the end of the day was good though - our first chance to camp above the clouds!

Our third day sent us above 4600 metres on an acclimatisation hike to the Lava Tower, a giant funny looking rock formation. This was also the point where some of our trekkers starting getting altitude sickness, so for a few of them, nausea and headaches dominated the day (whereas the fortunate ones only had to struggle with the strong winds - much preferable!). That night we camped just below 4000 metres and for the first time, our crew didn't only sing and dance for us, but they also insisted we join them in their dancing (I believe this was an intended conspiracy, since they would have know what none of us had the strenght to jump around and dance at 4000 metres without looking like complete morons!).

On the fourth day, we had to trek up a steep rock wall. At distance it looked as if the groups of trekkers were crawling across the rock like a line of ants, seemingly at risc to just fall off the cliff at any moment. In reality though, we had a good metre or sometimes more in width across our path, so few people actually fell off (that's a lie, of course, no one fell off) - although some came dangerously close (note: this is not the place to lose your balance!). Once atop the plateau, we got our first good glimpse of the snow clad summit of the mountain. Of course, this called for some "let's-play-around-with-our-cameras"-time! Once the photo session was over and luch packages done with, we continued down through an alpine forest landscape, before setting camp once again just below 4000 metres.

On the fifth day we made our way to high camp at around 4500 metres. From this camp, we would start our summit attempt the next day. As the summit attempt started in the night, we had to try and sleep throughout the late afternoon, which despite your exhaustion is very difflcult to do at hight altitude. A short nap, however, can work wonders sometimes!

Sunrise on the mountain.

Summit day!

On summit day we all got up at 11 at night (which technically makes it the day before summit day, I guess). Then we had breakfast and set out for the summit in the dark. Kilimanjaro is a beautiful but crowded mountain to climb, and in the night, the headlamps carried by every single climber formed a catapillar of light slowly making it's way up the mountain. Quite the sight!

Much to my surprise I started to struggle only an hour into the climb - from one moment to another I suddently felt like I couldn't breathe, and I yanked half my clothes and scarves off to avoid the feeling of suffocation. It did me little good though and unfortunately the feeling did not go away at all. I spent the next eight hours, mostly in the dark, desperately trying to force oxygen out of the air with every breath - not at all what I had expected, but I guess you never know when the altitude hits. I considered giving up many times but somehow getting those words over my lips was way harder than just continuing. For me walking in the darkness made it worse - I needed to be able to look at my goal to keep me going. This also meant that once the sun finally came up and I could see the summit (which was really close! WUHUUU!), I started crying from a mixture of sheer relief and awe at how beatitul the mountain looked in the early sunlight. Fortunately for my ego I was far from the only one in our group to be overwhelmed to the point of sobbing (pheew!).

Seeing the summit just above me gave me a shot of energy that lasted for about two minutes, during which I ran far ahead of everyone else - and then I crashed again, struggling to breathe like I had done for the past six or seven hours. Not too long after we got to Stella point, the lower of the Kilimanjaro summits on the Macheme route. From Stella point, I carried on to Uhuru Peak, the actual summit, basically dragging myself along with the help of one of our guides (total kudus to that guy for the effort!). Eventually I did make it all the way to Uhuru Peak  and once there, of course the tears came bursting out again (really thankful for sunglasses to save my summit photos!). Once again I wasn't the only one to sob though, which made it seem all the more in place. The feeling of making the summit was a euphoric high!

Getting down from the summit was less of a struggle. Being quite exhausted from the trek, I resorted to almost running, burrying my entire boots deep in the sand with every stroll so as to slide down without having to break. Blisters were plenty though, and some genius had apparantly also decided that we would have to make our way down from high camp that day too (really?!). At the end of the day we pretty much collapsed in our beds - but the next day brougth along proper beds back at the hotel and - hold your breaths - a shower! Oh happy day!