Diary from Kilimanjaro

Kilimanjaro - A trekkers diary

The day had finally arrived. Friday 16th September 2011.

I jump on the scales for the very last time. Unbelievably, it reads 1/2 a pound under 11 stone. It had been my goal to get under 11 stone before I left, but I hadn't quite made it. I jump on and off the scales a number of times just to double double check that it's not a mistake. It isn't.

I've never been a diet freak or too obsessed about my weight, but I'd not had a 10 stone anything show on the scales since I was probably a teenager. I'm delighted with my efforts, and in my mind I'm thinking it's a sign.

I have to travel to South Wimbledon to visit a studio for a job I'm on. It's a 1.5-2 hour journey each way, and I feel sick at the prospect of doing anything today that isn't related to Kilimanjaro.

I then have to go to Elstree Studios to say my goodbyes to the current Production, but at least that's 5 minutes from home.

Thankfully, the recce and more importantly, the journeys, go well, and I'm back home by 1:30pm.

Everything had been packed days before, so I'm completely ready. Apart from bed, my trekking boots haven't left my feet for the last 3 weeks in an attempt to make them part of my body.

They feel comfortable, and I'm delighted.

I had booked a cab, but my Dad has offered to take me, and he arrives at my house at 3pm. I have to be at Heathrow for 5pm so I'm hoping the M25 will behave itself.

Having said an emotional goodbye to my wife, who sadly has the look in her eye of somebody saying goodbye to a person forever, I set off. The journey is smooth, traffic free but somewhat sombre, as my Dad tries to be upbeat, and I can only think about the dangers ahead and the family I'm leaving behind. It's a sickening, guilty feeling, and I do actually question why I have put myself into this situation.

I never had a life-long ambition to climb Kili. I've never had ambitions to be a mountaineer or an explorer. I've always dreamed about a more adventurous, outdoorsy lifestyle. The allure of escapism (which always seems to loom large in my sub-consciousness) but I've never done anything like this before in my life. I've marvelled at stories in the past from the handful of people I've known that had done it, somehow in the back of my mind wishing I could do it myself. But I feel selfish. I think about my family, my dependants, the people that depend on me. And here I am waltzing off to climb a mountain, potentially putting myself in some real danger.

For months, I have thought of little else but how my body will deal with extreme altitude…..today is the day that thought starts to become a reality.

I arrive at Terminal 4 in great time. It's about 4pm. I say goodbye to my Dad, suddenly wondering if I'll ever see him again, but in my heart, knowing it'll be a very short 10 days before he's collecting me.

The airport is surprisingly quiet. I like this. I'm an airport hater, and normally travel in the early morning along with the millions of other people, and it drives me crazy. I'm not good with crowds.

I wander over to the check-in area for Kenya Airways, and see nobody familiar. The psychotic in me wonders if I am actually int the right place. There is literally nobody here from Marie Curie. But I'm early, so time for a quick text to my 4 team mates from the Serious Fox team who are all in the same cab because they live near each other.

Here is an exact transcript:

16:18 to Peter

Me: "Just got to airport"

….nothing

16:32

Me: " How far away are you?"

…..nothing

16:37 to Kevin (given up on Peter)

Me - "I'm here how far r u guys?"

Them - "In Uxbridge!"

Me - "Oh shit"

A minute goes by and then this:

Them: "Should be there by 5pm!"

Them: "Only joking! We've just gone thru Dunstable!"

Everybody loves a comedian, particularly during times of stress.

I remember the banter we've all had previously on email, when Kevin jokes that he's going to Luton instead of Heathrow

Me - "Yeah watch out the approach to Luton is always busy"

Me - "By the way I'm tracking u with a gadget"

Me - " Zone F check in" (that was real, I was trying to be helpful)

Them - " There's no Zone F here…at Luton!"

By now, I had decided to grab a coffee, and have stumbled upon a swarm of blue Marie Curie t-shirts. I'm in the right place at least! It's welcoming to see some familiar faces, Alan & Gemma, David, Susan, Jan, and Alice, who I'd not met yet. She smiles a lot. That's a good thing. 

Then Lisa and Lyndsey, Steve, Marvin, Matt and Emma. People that I'd met at our training weekend to Scafell Pike. I feel much more relaxed. I meet Andreas and Steve for the first time, along with Kelvin, Allyson and Leanne but don't meet the others until check-in.

17:00 - Check in time

Almost everybody is here. We meet Geordie, the trek leader, for the first time. He looks like a mountaineer. Stocky, strong and a full beard. He hands out various orange tents to people to check in as luggage, as the tour company needs some replacements. We all joke about packing our own bags and not taking parcels from strangers.

We also meet our trek doctor Jenny. She has a little chat to some of us about something medical that I can't quite remember, but jokingly I tell her that I'm a hypochondriac….She laughs nervously. My card has been marked I fear. 

Spirits are high, but there's definitely a tension and anticipation from most of us. I find out that Steve is afraid of flying. Poor bastard I think, it's hard enough being in this situation without a fear of flying. He disappears with Marvin and Matt. I'm imagining for a stiff drink.

The Serious Fox team finally arrives, and I'm reunited with my team mates. I'm not normally a nervous traveller, but I find myself thinking that at least we can all go now that everybody is here. I think I meet everybody else at this time, I can't quite remember. Paul & Jackie, David, Amy, Jason and Liam (who I'd already met), and if my memory serves me well, the final 2 to arrive are Alison & Fiona.

Check in is the usual chaos that you expect at airports. I've not flown Kenya Airways before. It's a little different, but nothing, nothing like it will be coming back from Africa.

Fortunately, they check our bags all the way through to Kilimanjaro airport via Nairobi. We don't have to collect them and transfer them, so that's a bonus. As is the immediate thought that I'll never see my luggage again.

But it's gone now….worrying won't help, and we leave the check-in to go through to the departure gate.

Security is quiet, free-moving, and with the amount of crap in my rucksack, an absolute miracle that I go through un-checked.

Peter on the other hand, gets given the third degree, and has some creams and ointments taken away for molecular scrutiny. Luckily, they are all returned, in a clear plastic bag, with a whole bunch of attitude thrown in for good measure. I'm not fazed at all because I know this minor inconvenience is minuscule compared to what the next 10 days will bring.

We decide to find somewhere to eat, pondering on the state of the airline food, and with pitiful choice befitting the UK's most major airport, we settle for Starbucks, and eat what we can.

We end up sitting next to a woman and her daughter, who unexpectedly give us a donation to Marie Curie when they find out what we're doing. It's amazingly touching to receive a donation from a complete stranger, and feels like a moment of Karma.

The plane starts to board, a final text to the family, and we're off. The plane is full, and we must take up a good chunk of it with our 32 strong team.

I start to write a diary on my iPhone.

Here's the first entry:

Friday 16 September 2011

========================

20:46 So here it is. I'm on a flight to Nairobi. It's 8:46pm and I've just left for Kili. Cannot believe its actually here.

Check in was interesting. Today has been manic. 2hr journey to Merton for a  studio recce first thing. Back to Elstree for GH then home. Tearful goodbyes 

And here I sit. The moon setting out the window and a bunch of strangers around me. People I'll probably know quite well in a week or so.

Missing the family already and anxious about the task ahead. I hope it all goes well.

Time will tell