In February 22nd 2016, while I was in my third year of University, I made the decision to join up with the charity Dig Deep and raise £3000 pounds for their cause. If you are unfamiliar with the charity Dig Deep, they aim to provide sanitary water in Kenyan communities. They do this by using the money they raise to build infrastructure such as toilets, in order to keep local water sources clean. I was lucky enough to meet some of the team members who were beyond helpful and passionate about their job. But it can be hard to fundraise that amount of money by simply using the force of the charity. No, it needed some personal investment too and that meant deciding to climb Kilimanjaro. I would be lying if I told you selflessness for the cause alone pushed me to climb the highest mountain in Africa, I was also nervous to push myself mentally and physically. I was curious about the limits of my body and I felt this was a good way to find out what those limits were.
I spent 7 months fundraising for the trip which included, bag packs, bake sales, various begging of friends and family, as well as a chunk of my own savings. Sometimes it would feel hopeless, I would spend hours baking cupcakes and printing out information pages for an event and only one person would show up. One day I only raised £6 and had about 20 uneaten cupcakes, it was disheartening but, to be fair, I had a lot of happy housemates. Or I would hear that more and more people were dropping out of the charity because they couldn’t afford to spend their time raising money when they needed to focus on their masters. It was hard to prioritise fundraising, writing dissertations and other final essays of my University life. But I had to keep on reminding myself, what is an afternoon of disappointing fundraising to a family drinking dirty water? What is a day away from my essay to someone who finds out they have Cholera? I had made £6 that day but it was £6 more than I had yesterday. It was £6 more for the charity and this idea was what spurred me on. It might sound like a cliché but I had to suck it up and realise how many people dealt with far worse situations on the globe.
If my family had asked me, I prepared by going to the gym a couple of times a week, in all honestly it was probably once every two weeks but I had done climbing before in the Himalayas and felt fit enough. I thought I felt fit enough. By the 22nd of August I had raised the money and was sat on a flight going to the capital of Kenya, Nairobi. The mountains foundation lay on the Kenyan and Tanzanian border but we had to drive over the border into Tanzania to begin the ascent. Kilimanjaro. You have no idea how long it took me to stop saying, ‘I’m going to climb Kilimanjaro’. I was partly excited and mostly terrified but in all honesty I didn’t think about the physical climbing an awful lot. I thought that it was going to be hard but I didn’t visualise the intensity of putting one foot in front of the other for 8 hours straight. Is that even possible to mentally prepare yourself for? As we waited at Machame Gate for our porters to organise all the food and equipment, the nerves really began to sink in. Below is a brief outline of each day of our trek, including the campsite we reached and the highest point of each day.
Day 1: Shira Camp (3,847m)
‘The day I sweated my body’s weight in water’
We left Machame Gate at about 1pm and began trekking through Tanzania’s dense jungle at the base of Kilimanjaro. Since we left the base late in the day, we walked continuously for 7 hours, so as you can imagine, I was a little more than sweaty. The morale was high today, everyone was excited to start and full of energy. Our camp, finally emerged through the trees and I felt intense relief that I was fit enough to survive the first day. I remember the irritation I felt at then having to line up for about half an hour to sign it but it had to be done to ensure everybody reached the camp. I shared tent 25 with my friend Amy who was both positive and hilarious, she helped me get through the climb more than anything else.
Day 2: Barranco Camp (3,900 m)
‘The day I thought about rolling down the mountain’
After a restless night sleep and a quick breakfast we started our walk about 9am. Throughout the day the vegetation began to become sparser and eventually we started walking above the trees. I struggled on day 2 to motivate myself, the task of trekking for 5 more days, and currently being in the thick of it, felt impossible. After asking our guide about 100 times how much longer to our camp and being told one more hour every time, I almost cried, when in the horizon I could see tents pointed to the skies. This was the most beautiful campsite, it was on the edge of the cliff and fluffy, marshmallow cloud surrounded us. We found a little cave where our guide told us stories about witch doctors in Tanzania and how they still believed albino fingers cured disease. Don’t be fooled by this picture I was laughing on the outside and crying on the inside.
Day 3: Karanga Camp (4,600 m)
‘The day our butter froze’
Today we walked up to Lava Tower (where the photo was taken) and had lunch. A lot of people struggled with altitude sickness today so group moral was very important, this was the last day my iPod worked and I have never been so relieved to listen to some music. I have to admit I had ‘I’m Coming Home’ by P Diddy and Skylar on repeat and it did make me tear up. To reach our campsite we had to descend to 4,040m because we had to allow our bodies to get used to the extreme altitude. I was amazed that the altitude didn’t affect the porters because they were so used to the variation. I almost got caught going to the toilet today as I didn’t realise another group was walking behind us, often the best part of the day is finding the perfect toilet rock. When we finally had dinner, a feast of soup and chicken I was surprised to find the butter had frozen and hacked to death by hungry trekkers. It was a beautiful campsite only slightly greyed by the shit splattered up the wall in the toilet shack.
Day 4: Barafu Camp (4,645 m)
‘The day I kissed the kissing rock’
In the morning I looked around the campsite and was struggling to find a potential path for the days trek. I couldn’t find it because it was literally a rock face, today was the day we climbed breakfast hill. A little hint it’s not a hill. We spent the morning using our hands to scale up the wall, at one point you reach a rock called ‘the kissing rock’, called that because in order to climb to the next rock you are face to face with it. If you kiss it you make it up to the peak, maybe it works? The afternoon climb wasn’t too bad physically but I felt constantly queasy until we reached camp and sat down. The camp was not what I expected, it was nestled between lots of rocks which meant getting anywhere difficult. Our appetites disappeared today, it was a struggle to eat anything because of the intense sickness we all felt but we forced the food down because it would be impossible to reach the top without any energy. We went to bed early because tomorrow was the day we reached the peak.
Day 5: Millenium Camp (5,894 m)
‘The day I came face to face with Uhuru Peak’
It wouldn’t take an expert to tell you that today was hard. We began trekking at 3am because the UV rays are so strong at the top of the mountain that you have to get to the peak as early as possible. Apart from the early start it was also -4 degrees, so as you can imagine I was wearing about 5 layers on each section of my body. It also meant that our drinking water froze so for the first few hours of our trek we could only rely on our water bottles for hydration. Our head torches also came in very handy as it was pitch black. Not only this but the day also involved a lot of scaling rocks and climbing through slippery rubble which meant it took us a lot longer to reach the peak. The air is so thin at the top of the mountain that you are constantly out of breathe and by the time we reached the Uhuru peak (5895 m) we could only stay at the top for an hour because of the damage it could do on the brain. I wish I could tell you that when I reached the peak I had a moment of clarity but I was too exhausted to feel anything. As I began sliding down the mountain, it felt much like skiing, I found myself isolated and all of our group was spread out. I had run out of a water a couple of hours ago and at this point had been walking for 10 hours that day. Exhaustion is an understatement. I passed members of my team throwing up, being helped down by porters and crying. It was a tough day and by the time we made it back to our camp for the previous night, we had to carry on trekking down to the next one because of the dangerous altitude. We had a quick dinner, packed our things and began our descent to Millenium Camp. As it was pitch black we used only our head torches to bumble and trip over the footpath down to our camp. Our longest day, our hardest day and eventually, though I couldn’t find the energy to go to dinner, was happy to be back in our tent.
Day 6: Mweka Gate (3,820 m)
‘The day I danced and cried’
Today was our main day of descent and I couldn’t be happier. The mountain is beautiful but its draining and I could feel I didn’t have much left to give. After a couple hours we began to see vegetation again and the jungle came back into sight, as well as the heat. We managed to see a couple of blue and colobus monkeys, they swung through the trees from afar for we were told they were very shy. I began to recognise paths and waterfalls that we had passed on the first day and I knew we were close. I could hear them before I could see them, as we walked the final bend I could see the whole team of porters and guides were at the bottom of the hill dancing and singing through my blurry eyes. As our University groups reached them they began inviting us to dance and we celebrated conquering the mountain together. We joined in with the paying ceremony where we had a last dance and said our final goodbyes to our amazing porters and guides. It felt strange to think we would never see them again after our intense 6 days. When we got back to the hotel I had to crawl to the shower because my body was so battered and my feet were so sore. As I sat there, feeling fresh water wash my body for the first time in 6 days, I cried.
The Aftermath
So I’m left with the question what did I gain from this? I learnt how resilient the human body is and with that prospect how different bodies can be, everybody struggled in different ways. And I have never, personally, pushed my body to that level before. But that’s not the important part really. Some of our porters have climbed Kilimanjaro over 100 times. Each day they would run past our slow and struggling group with at least 20k of weight on their back. They didn’t wear trekking boots, have camel backs or expensive gear. They helped us at every corner of the mountain without hesitation and I learnt later when we came off the mountain they would be back climbing it again in 3 days’ time. Away from their family again for another organised trek, another group who considers climbing this mountain as one of the highlights of their life. Dennis, one of our guides, told us he had to work for 3 years as a porter in order to pay for school and eventually become a guide because apparently, that is a much better job to have. So more than anything I gained an appreciation for this job and the people who work so hard to do it.
If you are thinking about climbing Kilimanjaro, and I really recommend you do, Dig Deep is a fantastic organisation to do it through. Here is their link: http://www.digdeep.org.uk/
They are one of the few charities and trek organisers that publicly support KPAP. This organisation insures that porters and guides are given fair pay and don’t exhaust themselves carrying too much weight. In essence it protects the rights of porters and guides. You can find out more information here: http://www.kiliporters.org/
