Done and dusted

I've booked my flight. In three weeks time, I'll be spending my final night of preparation before starting the climb. Much as I dislike both Heathrow and British Airways, I've reluctantly decided they offer the best itinerary for my situation. I've also booked my rail tickets to London and a bed in a friend's flat to enable a 6am departure by tube that will give me the three-hour check-in time necessary for security clearance. I'm hoping my 10.20am flight will be early enough to miss the worst of the queues, but it's probably wishful thinking. My journey is now fully organised as far as Nairobi, as I've arranged for a friend to drive me the twenty-five miles to the nearest station where I can catch a train for London. I now have only to find a hotel where I can spend the night in Nairobi, and then book my shuttle from there to Marangu. And decide what to do with the three – four days in Tanzania after the climb, of course.

I've had to join the British Mountaineering Council to get myself insured – it was a cheaper option than Snowcard, the only other high altitude insurer I could find. At £80 for the two weeks, it's an expensive business, but does seem to cover every possible eventuality and any sport I might conceivably try, including riding and hot air ballooning (both of which are attractive, though I think ballooning would mean too much travelling for the time available).

Tomorrow, I'll book my Nairobi hotel and the shuttle bus ticket to Marangu. All this from the comfort of my own home. I just love the internet.

I had my last immunisation yesterday, when I paid out £45 to a Hereford doctor to inject me against yellow fever. Interestingly, the certified yellow form I was given is almost identical to the two childhood ones I still have in my 'box of important papers'. So, my time as a human pin-cushion has ended at last.

Yesterday, I also stocked up with snacks and treats for the climb. Food is essential fuel and apparently very important in the fight against AMS. I'm not really accustomed to snacking on the kind of processed sweet bars that will stand up to days of tropical heat and rough and ready transport, so it hasn't been easy to find some that aren't disgusting and sickly-sweet. I've finally decided on a pack of soft but solid, cake-like bars of Nutrigrain Raisin Bakes and Sainsbury's Organic Hazelnut Bars, as well as some Sesame Snaps and loose raisins. I really prefer savoury snacks, so I've also added a pack of lunchbox sized Peperami. Oh, and my secret vices are combined in one bar of coffee flavoured dark Swiss chocolate. If this all seems a bit excessive for six days on the mountain, I should point out I'm expecting to share some of my supplies with guides and porters. I've also been experimenting with fruit-flavoured electrolyte powders (mostly even more disgusting than the over-sweet snacks), and worst of all, the ultimate horror – energy gels. They are foul; horrible tasting and even worse consistency. Research has indicated they're both vital for success on summit-night, but I'm not convinced I'll be able to stomach them if I'm feeling nauseous. I'll pack both with the intention of using them, but suspect they'll end up as part of my final gifts to the guides.

Limbo

My trip has been in jeopardy for the past two weeks. It's been a deeply depressing time, during which I've been unable to continue with my final travel arrangements in case I'm forced to cancel the whole thing because of the recent outbreak of Foot and Mouth Disease in Surrey. There's no way I could leave the farm if the country were to succumb to a repetition of the terrible epidemic of 2001. Apart from the unfairness of delegating responsibility for overseeing the stock to non-farming family members, the movement restrictions cause huge difficulties and extra work when we can't use grazing fields across the road. The work of carting fodder and feed would be comparable to mid-winter, a time of year I wouldn't consider leaving for my trip.

It's now been ten days since the last confirmed case, and I'm allowing myself to be cautiously optimistic enough to book another date for my Yellow Fever vaccination (I cancelled last week because of a heavy cold). If all goes according to plan, I'll be in Tanzania four weeks from tonight.

I've decided to stay overnight with a friend in London, then take the daytime British Airways flight from Heathrow to Nairobi; get a decent night's sleep in a hotel there before taking a shuttle bus to Marangu the following day. The return flight home will be overnight, but that's OK – I need as much rest and sleep as possible before the climb, but it's not so important for the return journey. I considered flying from Nairobi to Kilimajaro airport, but I'd like to travel through Kenya by road again; see how much it's changed since my teenage years. I've never been to Tanzania before, so that part of the journey will be completely new to me. Travelling by road also means no flight transfers, so less excuse for the airlines to lose my precious luggage. I've read too many horror stories of lost trekking kit to risk having to make the climb in borrowed gear. I have no faith in BA's ability to deliver my luggage at the end of the flight, but minimising the risk loads the dice in my favour.

Just one left to go

Had my typhoid jab last week, so that's five down, one to go. I have an appointment booked in two weeks in Brecon for the final, yellow fever innoculation though I may change it. They charge £50 but I've since discovered I can have it done in Hereford for £45.

The terrible weather we've been having since early June has made training a very wet business, but at least it's tested my waterproof gear. Everything, including boots seems to work well.

I'm narrowing down my flight options and hope to book by the end of the week, although I am concerned about the numerous hazards -- huge security queues at Heathrow can mean missed flights, some airlines are particularly prone to losing luggage and industrial action is now threatened in September by the staff of Virgin Atlantic, one of my preffered options.

Latest news in brief

I've been involved in an exhausting, hectic social whorl for the past week or two, which has meant a few lapses in my training schedule, though not as many as a sudden 'attack of the thorns', resulting in ten punctures in two weeks for my shiny new bike. I'm now watching the road immediately ahead of my tyres with paranoid intensity.

Today, I went to my doctor's travel clinic to learn just how much of a pincushion I will need to become in the course of the next few weeks. I was pleasantly surprised to learn I will be punctured less than expected. I had one jab today to bring my tetanus, diptheria and polio immunity up to date and have another appointment in two weeks for a combined Hepatitis A and Typhoid jab. The administering nurse assured me Typhoid vaccine no longer causes the painful swelling and illness I still vividly remember from my childhood. I'll need to go to a larger health centre in Hereford for my Yellow Fever injection, which is easier than I'd hoped. I remember having to travel all the way to a Birmingham hospital with a department of infectious and tropical medicine for my first Yellow Fever jab when I was nine years old. I suppose people travel a lot more now, so vaccines for tropical diseases are more readily available. The jab will apparently cost me about £50.

While I was in London recently, I hit the Covent Garden area, trying on numerous different brands of boots in four of the big outdoors stores. After several more hours going through numerous Salomon, Raichle, Asolo, Brasher, Zamberlan, Scarpa and Berghaus models, I knew without any doubt I had to go back to one of the first boots I'd tried in my local shops, months ago. The only brand that is light and supportive enough for the Kilimanjaro summit that fits me comfortably is Meindl, specifically the Women's Borneo Pro MFS and the Women's Air Revolution 2.0. I'm going to go for the Borneo – both boots are similarly priced (i.e. expensive, of course), but the leather model will presumably last longer than the more hi-tech fabric one. The Borneo isn't Goretx-lined, so will be a lot more comfortable for my hot-running feet, and almost as waterproof thanks to the near seamless construction and oiled leather. I expect my feet to be drier than my fellow-climbers' encased in steamy waterproof membrane. With extra thermal sock liners for summit night my feet should be warm enough, but I intend to take a pair of chemical footwarmers be sure of remaining frostbite free in the glacier zone.