LEJOG Day 3

The B&B last night was fantastic, a large double bedded ensuite room in a tiny quiet village. 

Today I have no fixed accommodation for tonight, the intention was just to see how I'm feeling and go with the flow. Given the hard rides of the last 2 days, I'm planning a shorter ride up to Weston Super Mare, about 50 miles, where there should be a plethora of cheap guesthouses. Late afternoon on the beach with fish and chips is the plan.

By 1030 I'm through Taunton and stop at a coop for some strawberry milk. No sooner have I lent my bike up to go inside, a grumpy old woman with a big dog tells me (tells, not asks) to move it because that is he usual spot for tying up her dog and "she doesn't like being tied anywhere else". The same grumpy woman then begins bossing the staff around because someone isn't immediately available to serve her. I just had to smile, what an annoying lady. 

I reach the north side of Bridgwater and have some lunch, my shoulder is giving me some pain, like a trapped nerve or something. The only downside to my bike is its quite an aggressive riding position (much like a racing bike) so days of touring on it take its toll. It's something ill have to look at for next time, maybe some new handle bars or at least lifting them up. 

A few thoughts so far, mostly from yesterday but I was too tired to write them then. 

It's the little things that motivate you along, like realising you've ridden off the page in the map book and you can turn over or the incentive of a cream tea in the next town. There was a time yesterday when I was rationing jelly babies, today it's Jaffa cakes. Food is so important as a fuel but as motivation too. 

I finished yesterday's ride covered in sweat and dead things. If you go for a long drive then the front of your car will inevitably look like a graveyard of flys and other insects. Yesterday that was my face...and arms, and shirt etc. things have a suicidal death wise to immortalise themselves in your blood and sweat. A few bigger bugs thumped into my helmet too, I'm glad they don't hit my eye and sometimes I have To just put my sunglasses on to protect them even if it isn't that bright. 

I've been mega impressed with the bike so far. The only niggle is the aggressive position but ill look at that. It's coped with the extra weight in luggage, being pushed up steep hills and then free wheeled at silly speeds down the other side. Even the brake pads are holding up although I will probably replace them soon enough. The new clip-in pedals and shoes are working a treat even if I occasionally forget I'm clipped in and almost embarrassingly wobble over at junctions. Usually I'm good at remembering and un-clip one side just before pulling up. 

So this afternoon I'm cycling from Bridgwater to Weston Super Mare, hopefully a very flat ride approaching the coast. I haven't got any accommodation booked but found a few guesthouses with vacancies or under £30 so will call in when I get there. Tonight I plan on fish and chips on the beach and maybe a few arcade games in the pier. 

The ride to Weston is indeed pretty flat, especially once over the Quantock hills. I stop briefly at a outdoor/caravan shop, a huge place north of Bridgwater. I'm not a fan of caravans but I can certainly see myself getting a small folding camper sometime soon. They had some decent ones there for under £1500.  With 2 double beds, a siting area, cooking bits and an awning to go with it. Could be an option when I've sold the van. 

The road to Weston is awful, vibrates everything in me and my bike. Another cyclist passes me on a proper sporty thing. Cycling along the promenade in Weston and this place is packed, the pier and the beach and full of people. I take a nosey to the train station to look at trains home and make the decision to try and get back tonight. It seems pointless paying to stay the night and then train it home tomorrow when it's still only early afternoon and I've a good chance of getting home. It all depends on getting my bike on the train. 

I manage to get on the 1538 train bound for New Street. I was hoping to avoid the rush hour but it seems I've hit the main early rush hour train out of Bristol with people fussing over seats and reservations etc. 

So that concludes the first section of my end to end ride. Just a few quick days but already with about 225 miles under my belt. The next stage will take me through Wales but a decision needs to be made whether to go through the Lake District or ferry it over to Ireland and spend a few days there before travelling back into Scotland. Z

LEJOG Day 2

Last night at the hostel was pretty good on the grand scheme of things. The food was decent enough accompanied by a pretty average local cider. Early night because of today's big ride. 

I'm out by 0715, that's after a boil in the bag breakfast is brought with me and a careful walk up the long stoney driveway. I didn't want to tempt fate and get a puncture so early on. The riding started hard and continued that way. I had barely got going before I had to stop to let a herd of cows cross the road. There were a few steep descents but they didn't really make up for the constantly grinding uphill struggles that kept cropping up. Lostwithiel, Liskeard, Collington, Gunnerslake all involved massive hills, the later was a struggle to push the bike up let alone ride. 

Near Collington I passed the Ginsters factory but couldn't stomach going to get one, its odd how you crave certain foods and not others when doing this much exercise. Tavistock and its time for a hard earned cream tea and milkshake but the day goes on; around Dartmoor above Okehampton to a quaint village called  Exbourne and The Red Lion pub. 

I'd always mentally thought of Okehampton as being near the end but it was just nearer the end than where I'd started. It must be a good 30 miles more and for a while it appears to have flattened out. By the time I get to Crediton im feeling pretty drained and down to my last 3 Jelly Babies. There is the mother of all hills which I spend most of it walking up before whizzing down the other side but still with another 10 miles to the B&B. To its credit, the bike has held up great. Punishing uphills and recklessly fast down hills with just a dash of chain lube each morning. 

Now I'm at the B&B, Brambles, and I'll keep this brief. It's a nice place and my room is lovely. I need some good rest tonight and ill take a more relaxed approach in the morning. Night. 

LEJOG Day 1

On advice from the hostel warden, I'm up early this morning to do the stretch to lands end and back before breakfast. I can blast this out with no kit then pick it up on my return through Penzance. Truth be told, it wasn't a great nights sleep and by 6am I was getting up and ready. The first 5 miles was hard work, short but steep hills were in abundance combined with still being abit tired and only fuelling myself on a banana and a cereal bar made for tough going but before long it flattened out and I was breezing along. A taxi with 3 guys and their bikes past me near Sennen and I met them again a short while later fiddling with their bikes and sorting their luggage at the lands end car park. Already one guy was complaining he had too much weight, people don't learn. Save for a surplus fleece I don't think I'm doing too badly so far. 

Amongst the buildings, past The Last Pub and Last House in England, I find the infamous signpost marking the end of the UK. 874miles to John o Groats and just over 3000 to New York. There is a pedestal for a larger slightly more prominent signpost here but I understand that only comes out for tourists paying for official photographs. Seems abit of a con to me but I'm sure someone is making a lot of money out of it. The ride back to the hostel is quicker than the outbound was, the temperature has comfortably just picked up a fraction  and I'm whizzing along. Really must be careful not to completely zone out else ill end in a mangled pile of limbs and bicycle forgetting I'm clipped into my pedals. As a final thought for now, I go up to my room to get my breakfast things and the guy on the lower bunk is shaving his toes? Bonkers! Is this common practice? 

Before i leave, i meet the father and son again ready in all their expensive cycling gear. the boy asks me if ive been training for this to which i said a little but not for long. I shoot one back at him asking how long he's been riding, before quickly clarifying I meant cycle touring rather than ditching the stabilisers. Probably a similar answer though. I set off again at 0855, in earnest now, heading North all the way. The going is pretty varied, a couple of unavoidable dual carriageway bits near Penzance and Truro but otherwise it's country lanes and a few A roads. I pass the father and son for the first of many times today, I next see them around 10am when I'm stopped for a doughnut and they cycle past. Practice really does make perfect in cycling and there able to slowly pedal up hills which with the extra weight I'm carrying compared to them, I find myself walking up part of them. The doughnut stop village has such a perculiar name but it eludes me at the moment. It did, however, mark the start of some serious hills and the next hour and more or so until Truro was characterised by such, spaced it with a few fast flat sections. The unfortunate thing about the hills here is the inherent danger of going all out on the downhill runs as I usually like to do so to make the next ascent that bit easier. But alas in Cornwall there's always a tight bend, cattle grid, junction, animal or elderly person crossing the road so no free uphill miles can be earnt. Shame. 

After a slightly disappointing Cornish pasty in Truro, it spat with rain and I pushed on. The hills soon made another appearance much like a not-quite-extinct Dr Who monster and were relentless. The only real route from Truro to St Austell is via a busy A road which wasn't all that great to struggle up hill on. Tiredness starts to really kick in on this stretch and the other road users seem to get less considerate culminating in one lorry driver in St Austell pulling sharply in towards me when trying to overtake on a busy street. I've got his license plate though and depending how moany I feel later ill give the company a call and send them a (polite) piece of my mind. 

The yha at Golant is another mansion overlooking the valley up to Lostwithiel. The Fowey River (I think) flows past and its all very serene. Tonight is all about relaxing and recovering, I have to. Tomorrow I will have to top my distance from today to get to my booked B&B near Tiverton and today was a new personal record for me. If only the hills will be friendly but somehow I have my doubts. The American lady at the hostel seemed really impressed with my profess today but I'm already thinking about tomorrow. It'll take at least one cream tea to keep me going. 

LEJOG Day 0

On a day of storms and floods I make my way to Penzance by train to start a split cycle ride from Lands End to John o Groats. The journey itself ends up taking the better part of 11 hours, mostly due to the curious workings of trying to take a bicycle on the rail network. The first couple of legs to Exeter are simple enough. It was cheaper for me to travel in first class and the improvements on the cattle wagon are appreciable . Complimentary drinks and snacks, free wifi, a polite lady waiting on you and not a screaming child or iPod-blaring teenager in sight. That said, my choice of shorts and t-shirt stuck out somewhat from the business and well-to-do pensioner type crowd. 

I get into Exeter and the serenity changes. Knowing I had a long wait because of not being able to secure a place for my bike until a much later train, I went to a nearby pub for a drink and a walk. It turned out to be a  student pub next to the uni campus with a stunning orangery room overlooking the exe valley. Definitely a place to come back and visit when friends study here. 

Returning to the station and heavens open, the forecast storm is late but severe . It turns out its causing more problems across the south west, the line to Barnstaple is closed, attested by innumerable people coming up to the desk in the waiting lounge asking the same pointless question and getting the same polite reply. "go away and wait for an announcement".

I tried to see if I could get on the 1525 train to Penzance, but the dash up the rainy platform was futile when it turned out the bike storage area was already full and the guard supervising it didn't even seem to know where Penzance was! Great First Western Trains not doing well so far.

I eventually get on my original train which is late and finally leaves at 1635. There's another guy loading a bike on here too (same bike as mine actually, nice to see that he's ignoring the decathlons anti-pannier advice too). He vents some frustration at bikes on trains and the next I see of him is sprinting at full pelt along the platform at Par in Cornwall, presumably almost forgetting his bike was still on the train at the other end to where he got off. 

The skies are brooding at times but we pass through some stunning countryside along this part of the journey, in particular the costal section hugging the cliffs around Torbay and the famous Brunel bridge just after Plymouth. Whilst the hills here in Cornwall aren't vast, there's a lot of them and you really get a sense for how tough the first few days of this are going to be. At least day 1 tomorrow is relatively short. 

The youth hostel is set in a stunning hill top mansion overlooking Penzance and as such was abit of a steep ride to get to. The atmosphere is great, very family friendly and I meet all sorts. Also in my dorm is a man and his son of about 11or 12 who are cycling from Penzance to Canterbury in about 5 days. This is the 3rd big cycle tour they've been on together, what an amazing opportunity for the young lad. They seemed not too fussed about some long days they had ahead - up to about 100 miles albeit with not kit- the father conceding its usually him holding his son up. That said, I'd be happy to do 80-90 miles a day let alone the 100+ mark. 

The room is as per usual for yha, unbearably hot and the 12 year old is reminding us frequently that his pillow smells of popcorn. Great. 

Journeying Home

Journeying Home

So the trip is almost over and in one last hurrah I meet a bunch of people in Moshi and on the bus to Nairobi. One guy whilst waiting at the bus office says he is a Birmingham supporter, also a passive liar full of crap too it seems. There's a lot of people here who surprisingly have the same name as you or support your local team or are instantly a mountain or safari guide when they try to sell you things. It's so easy to spot here it's a wonder people get ripped off at all but they do and with some frequency. Some sellers are pretty persistent not realising that the more they hassle me the less likely they are to get a sale. Besides if I want something ill go find it, I'm not about to buy a $2000 safari from a guy on the street who says he can get me a "very good price".

On the bus I'm joined by an American father and son from New England who are in Tanzania for Kili and travelling to Nairobi to fly home. We stop in Arusha and have to change buses, waiting around for a while with touts trying to sell their wares through the window. The Americans are after a bag of nuts which the hawker is asking $10 for. Ridiculous! I tell them it shouldn't cost more than a dollar but they end up paying ten bucks for 2 bags. Even at that the cheeky hawker is still arguing the price. $10 is more than most hawkers earn in a day, the Americans paid way over the top despite my advice. Ah well. As usual I'm polite but ignore the sellers. Some approach me and think I'm from Russia or Argentina, thanks a lot!

Crossing the border is a formality, even though I have to pay $20 for a transit visa when I'm going to be in Kenya for about 8 hours. Possibly more annoying is that this takes up a whole page in my passport, another one. From the border it's a short run of a couple hours to Nairobi and the airport.

Once at the airport the real fun and games begin. The boards are already saying my flight to Zurich is running an hour late which mean I won't make my connection to Birmingham. After a few hours the check in lady gets back to me with a rearranged route to Zurich then Frankfurt then Birmingham finally arriving 9 hours later than planned. As I get on the plane there's more faffing about people moving seats and two people with the same seat; eventually I have to move to accommodate a couple but in the only good news today, I get landed with an escape row seat with luxury amounts of leg room.

I'm still peeved about the change and delayed route, need to speak to people in Zurich about that. Surely for a 9 hour delay they can give me some food or something. That said to Swiss' credit the flight is pretty sweet and the entertainment a lot better than most. The 5ft of legroom has put me in a better mood too.

Well a turn up for the books in Zurich. I go to the transfer desk and a very nice if butch German lady rather animatedly sees if she can get me on an earlier flight, which she can. I now find myself leaving Zurich almost immediately with just 2hrs in Frankurt before arriving in brum just after 12. Swiss is certainly doing a lot to redeem itself.

So it's never quite over is it. The most surreal thing in Frankfurt airport, I meet John and Edward of cheesy pop/xfactor fame. Edward is off around the airport, John goes after him since they're about to miss their flight, mum is clearly not pleased. Even when not in the public eye they still have that daft vertical blonde hair and today were running around in sparkling silver jeans and duffel coats. How very random but a nice end to a great trip. Have a great Christmas everyone and here's to a fun filled 2013.

Final Days in Moshi

Final Day in Moshi

Our final day on Kili was a brief morning descent to the Mweka gate to meet our transport back to Moshi. It wasn't really a day at all, just 2 1/2 hrs walking making me wonder why we're paying wages and tips for a full day anyway. The descent is steep, losing about 1600m in height.

Back in the hostel it's good to have a shower and change to some clean clothes. I go into Moshi in search of an Internet cafe and the flood of emails immediately brings a list of jobs when I'm back home. Maybe I haven't lost the travel bug so much. First on the agenda is to sort out work arrangements for next year and chase up some unpaid invoices. Nothing like that to bring down the holiday high.

In the town centre I buy my bus ticket to Nairobi tomorrow and spend the rest of my money on souvenirs, ice cream and beer. I get a Maasai spear which I've been after for a long time, will have to find somewhere in the bedroom for that. Lets hope the airport security don't kick up a fuss too.

It's ban to the hostel hoff for one more night, it's still probably one of the friendliest and family feeling places I've stayed in. That said, there are some characters here. An Australian girl is a bit of a misfit. Recently she asked the hostel manager if you get rainbows in Africa. Furthermore she is volunteering teaching English at a local school and today she photocopied dozens of English test pages despite spelling the word 'English' wrong.

Amongst the other long term residents are people in the midst of travelling globally for several years, people who just seem intent on getting drunk and a few Irish folk. Finally there's a British girl whom ha been engaging everyone in debate about her live life. The gist of what I can understand is that she has had a holiday romance and her UK partner is arriving tomorrow who knows nothing of it. Both partner and holiday love are staying in the same hostel. I'm not sure if partner is an ex, knows that his former gf is sleeping around or what. Frankly it's a wonderfully complex mess that the girl is fretting about and the advice from the fellow hostel residents basically extends to tell it to him straight and stop worrying. We can't help but laugh at it all though. So just before I leave the partner arrives at the hostel and seems a genuinely nice guy, could be awkward for a few days me thinks.

I'm booked with Riverside Shuttle up to Nairobi. Naturally it's late and when it does arrive it turns out to be a noisy old Japanese bus which you normally see stupidly overloaded around here. Hopefully my $35 has brought a little more room and less sweat-fest.

Kili Day 5

Kilimanjaro Day 5

So this isn't exactly the post I was expecting to write today. After arriving in camp last night the headache returned with a menace and combined with a dodgy stomach had me concerned about the summit attempt. The headache I've no doubt is due to the altitude, I'm well hydrated and pain killers aren't helping much. The dodgy stomach could be a combination of altitude and some questionable food earlier in the trek.

It's incredibly frustrating but the symptoms are classic altitude sickness and the only thing you can reasonably do is descend. The decision was mine. I could of carried on and tried for the summit but risk the headache worsening and fluid pressure building up on the brain (severe headaches and nausea are early symptoms of this) and frankly that's a really miserable thing to have - resulting in missing my flight home, a $5000 helicopter rescue and a lengthy stay in Nairobi hospital.

So I'm not going to the summit, that's decided. Instead I'm resting until the morning and descending down to 3700m with Mandela, one of the porters and will wait there until Mick as Antipas return.

Waiting in your tent unable to sleep with altitude sickness gives you a lot of time to think. On a light hearted note I'm still really looking forward to a big bowl of ice cream in Moshi but more seriously I think about my travelling and future plans. I think I'm going to curtail it for a while, maybe take a couple of years off from globe trotting and climbing big mountains. That won't change my job at all, I love being a mountain leader and working all over the UK which itself involves a good deal of travelling in my little van (sounding like postman pat now). The last couple of years however have been manic, this year alone I've visited 12 countries on 4 continents. This Africa trip has been amazing, even despite the Kili disappointment. Recalling the Drakensburg, Sani Pass, Cape Town, Table Mountain, Namibia Deserts, Victoria Falls, the crazy train and the Indian Ocean camp all in the space of 6 mad jam packed weeks.

That said the travel bug has wained a little and I'm looking forward to being at home a bit more - spending time with friends, going to concerts and running etc. It's also about time I focus on getting some more outdoor qualifications - climbing, archery, power-boating etc and continue saving towards a flat/house. Whilst I've got plenty of work as an ML and with DofE stuff i need to make sure i diversify a bit and keep doors open in what is a very fluid industry. 2013/14 will be pretty quiet travel years I think. I've promised my sister we would go travelling for a few weeks after her exams which will be amazing fun but I think that'll be it. Things may well change but I anticipate my next big big trip will be with Liam in Charlie (my land-rover) whenever we get around to that, at least 18 months away I would of thought. We shall see eh. Knowing me an irresistible opportunity will pop up before too long.

So back to Africa, I'm up at 7 ish when Mandela brings me a bowl of soup. I pack my stuff and we descend to an interim camp which takes about an hour and a half. The sun is shining and there are magnificent views of the summit, the glaciers and then across to Meru in the distance. It's by far the best weather day we've had, despite being bloody chilly at dawn it's warmed up a treat. Hopefully Mick had good fortune and made the summit.

It struck me as well today that most of our guides/porters seem to be named after famous leaders with the exception of Antipasti. We have Baraka, Mandela and Zuma (South African president). Odd.

By 130pm were down at our overnight stop. Fortunately we're settled in before a smashing thunder storm with hail and rain, Mick gets back after a successful summit although completely knackered. My solar panel got some charge earlier so I can whack the iPod on for the afternoon until dinner.

Kili Day 4

Kilimanjaro Day 4

It was a long night in the sleeping bag last night and I managed to sleep pretty well. The headache of yesterday is mostly gone and I manage a decent breakfast. The start of today's walk is a scramble up Branco Wall, a 300m semi-vertical climb which is definitely the most interesting part of the walk so far. That takes about an hour and a half before a number of descents and ascents until we reach lunch spot at the same height we started at.

Lunch is pretty decent, a local delicacy is a chip and egg omelette which they inventively call "chippy eggy". It's actually ok and is a good source of carbs. We plod on after lunch for another 3 hours, still having nearly 700m to climb. It's been a big day with at least 1200m of ascent overall thanks to the yoyo ups and downs.

The last push to the camp is pretty steep for 100m or so, my headache is back and throbbing at every step and every breath. I take a paracetamol and half a diamox and hope this will clear. The prospect of a further 1300m ascent tomorrow isn't particularly inviting to my head despite having no physical problems so far at all. The simple fact is although a lot of people climb Kili, the acclimatisation is crap. You regularly have 1000m+ days which your body cannot physically compensate for fast enough. Ideally your body can acclimatise about 300-500m per day and that's about the plan for Himalayan expeditions.

On a side, the guide have been their usual chatty selves today. Chatty amongst themselves I should say and not so much to us. There's a point when me and Mick are both getting fed up with the constant noise and stopping and starting to chat with their friends. Fortunately lunch is upon us before we have words.

Kili Day 3

Kilimanjaro Day 3

So today was a key acclimatisation day. The plan is to ascend from Shira Camp at 3800m up to the Lava Tower at 4600m and then descend to Baranco Camp at 3950m.

The going was at our usual tediously slow pace, poly poly indeed but sometimes it's a real trial of patience. The ascent takes 4hrs with pretty constant rain from about 10am onwards. Just before noon were in sight of the Lava Tower and Arrow Glacier up ahead, this will be our lunch spot today. It's clear a lot of groups stop here, there's a huge group of mountain mice scurrying around for left over food and sniffing at my backpack wishfully thinking they'll discover treasure only to be disappointed.

If the ascent was tedious then the descent was worse, only taking about 2 1/2 hours but still at a slow pace in the pouring rain. The guides are happily chatting away in Swahili, I wonder sometimes how much attention they're paying to us.

Arriving in camp I feel pretty dehydrated and there's a stinking headache brewing. I take a paracetamol and drink plenty of water. Hopefully it's not the start of altitude sickness because that will have huge consequences not just for this trip but all my future mountaineering ambitions. At the moment it feels like my body can't do what my head wants and thats not from a physical point of view, on that front I've found it really straightforward so far.

Altitude sickness is a rather subjective and difficult to predict thing. It's independent of fitness and whilst some drugs like diamox are suggested to help, they in fact just mask the symptoms and lessen any fluid build up. But like I say fingers crossed it isn't that. I guess we'll find out if things improve or not.

So we've had dinner and the headache seems to be going. According to Antipas it's pretty common for people to get it at this altitude. Fingers crossed for the morning, night all.

Kili Day 2

Kilimanjaro Day 2

Last night was a bit rough. I slept well until 1 ish but then had to nip to the bathroom and couldn't get off again afterwards. I don't know if something I'd eaten has disagreed with me or if its the particularly lumpy bit of ground my tent has been pitched on but I was tossing for hours.

We got up at 6ish, the sun rising from behind Kibo Peak to the East illuminating great views of the valley and surrounding peaks. There was a definite chill to the air this morning, more so than last night and as it tens out it wouldn't ever warm up much. It was comfortable enough walking in a thermal base top but it was chilly when we stopped. Breakfast was another overload of food - melon, porridge, toast, sausage and egg. Last nights dinner was essentially a full roast dinner which tasted amazing but we couldn't finish it. Full marks for the food provision so far.

We started walking at about 8am, a fairly short but steep day ahead of us ascending 800m to the Shira camp. The ground is pretty wet under foot and there are a few very short rocky bits we have to negotiate but these barely require the use of hands and its all pretty straightforward. The going is a bit harder than yesterday but come 1pm after a few breaks, we have arrived in camp ready to have lunch and chill out time this afternoon. Physically it was pretty straightforward again, a couple of taxing bits but that's it. Just need to relax, eat and drink to give as much energy as possible for a longer day tomorrow and to help as we climb higher.

Kili Day 1

Kilimanjaro Day 1

We met our Kili guide last night at the hostel, Antipas is his unusual name and we'll have him, an assistant, a cook and 6 porters accompanying us on the mountain. When I say 'us' I include Mick, a retired firefighter from London who is joining me. If nothing else it saves money and gives me someone to talk to.

The hostel is predominantly full of long term visitors who are volunteering around Moshi, generally people in their 20's but a few older and from all over the world. As a result there's a lot of drinking but the atmosphere is incredibly friendly and everyone comes to say hello and introduce themselves. Shawn, Michael, Ali and Paddy are just some of the names I can remember.

So on a coolish Saturday morning a minivan loaded with supplies, our guides and a few porters collects us for the 45 minute drive to the Machame gate, one of the closer entry points to Moshi. Despite the hostel forwarding our details in advance, it still takes Antipas a good while to sort our permits and all the bureaucracy. Our assistant guide is Juma and we start the trail with him whilst Antipas sorts out whatever he has to do. The first hour or so is following a dirt road through the first before this turns into a walking track. It's very well defined and frankly a bit dull at times as we ascend through the rainforest, it's very similar to a forest walk anywhere in Europe except the "poly poly" pace which is at times painfully slow. There's good reason for it though, to make sure we don't over do it from the off and have time to acclimatise. It's hard to imagine we're ascending 1200m today. The trail head is at 1800 and camp at about 3000 so a decent change.

The forecast for today isn't too amazing and indeed just after lunch we get hit by a tropical downpour. This eases but stays with us most the afternoon, drying just as we arrive in camp at about 1615. So quite a short walking day, about 5 hours in all but a decent amount of ascent. Physically I found it really straight forward probably because of the incredibly slow pace. I need to make sure I drink more though, only a litre or so whilst walking today which isn't enough really. Shame I couldn't pick up any squash or cordial before leaving Moshi so plain water it is.

The camp is pretty expansive and we have a pretty decent Coleman X3 each so plenty of room. As I write this a porter brings some water to have a wash and I think they're just making some popcorn as a pre dinner appetiser. I hate popcorn aha.

Final Days in Dar

Final Days in Dar

What a wonderfully bonkers place Dar is. Frankly absolutely nothing going for it except its proximity to Zanzibar and some amazing Indian Ocean Resorts. Dar itself is one of the less impressive cities in Africa, worse than Nairobi.

I spend my final couple of days sorting my onward travel and flight bookings as well as soaking up the sun and surviving the insufferable humidity. I've booked a flight up to Kilimanjaro departing Friday, much more expensive than a bus but I've done ok for money on this trip and its nice to treat yourself rather than have a 10hr sweat fest of a drive.

On the morning I'm due to depart, I meet Rick and his partner who are flying to Zanzibar this afternoon. We agree to share a ride to the airport and get chatting. He lives in Livingstone, with his own island no less, which he runs as a very small travellers accommodation in the middle of the Zambezi river. Jungle Junction is the name and definitely a place to check out when I go back there. He also got the train from Zambia across but it sounded less eventful than my trip.

We leave Mikadi in plenty of time and its just as well. As soon as we get off the ferry we're straight into traffic chaos. If you think London or New York is bad, just go to Africa where accidents and diversions are common place, police regularly shut the roads to let government officials travel through in clear traffic and all the while your surrounded by shifty looking people ready to steal your worldly possessions.

The 3 of us and our luggage are cramped into a tuc tuc, a squeeze but it turns out to be an inspired choice. We're darting in and out of traffic, cross into oncoming lanes, horn blaring almost constantly. It's not safe and I wonder how we didn't have a massive crash at every corner but its the only way we would of made it to the airport. The journey took over an hour as it was and its only about 8 miles. In hindsight it's a wonder there isn't a permanent pile of smashed and broken vehicles at every corner in Dar. There are no rules of the road, not even first come first served. As you assume a car has the right line to make a corner or move up a lane, there are 5 others forcing their way in front including our tuc tuc. I can touch several other vehicles, almost brushing my foot as we go past. There's no other word but chaos to describe it.

On arrival at the airport and wow, has to be one of the smallest, shittiest, least secure airports I've ever been to; and that's something from my Africa and South America travels. I'm pretty sure there's nothing to stop people getting to the runway through the lorry sized holes in the airport fence. The terminal building is half open air before you go through a security scanner and check in, then there is another scanner for your hand luggage before you go into the waiting areA by the departure gates. There must be 10 gates and a waiting area the size of a village hall and that's it. Let me remind you this is the only terminal in this airport which is the only international airport attached to the capital of this big country. I'm sure lonely planet said this was one of the largest and best airports in Africa, it's clearly misinformed. Still it's better than a sweaty bus. All we need now is for my baggage and me to be reunited at Kilimanjaro airport and ill be happy, from there I have a taxi waiting to take me to the Hoff Hostel in Moshi for a pre Kili dinner and briefing. That said the airport workers are having great fun tossing the luggage about on to what I assume is our small prop driven plane.

So my bag made it. The plane was tiny, 50-60 passengers at the most but otherwise a great flight. Now just waiting for my airport taxi to the hostel, god knows where he is ATM.