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.

Committed

Yes, I've finally taken the plunge and booked my Kilimanjaro climb with The Marangu Hotel , a very old established climbing operator that has been guiding trekkers to the roof of Africa since 1932. The most important consideration for me is the ethical treatment of the porters involved in the climb. I want to climb this mountain, but I also want to be sure the people who are going to be carrying my food and equipment will be properly equipped and clothed. There are many horror stories of ill clad and over-burdened porters dying of hypothermia while sleeping without adequate shelter and food, not all of them employed by cheapskate operators. Some well-known outfits recommended by the most popular travel guides have been involved in distressing incidents in recent years. The situation is improving, mainly due to two organisations; the International Porter Protection Group, and the Kilimanjaro Porters Assistance Project are worthwhile causes attempting to improve conditions for people employed on the mountain. The Marangu Hotel is a partner of the latter and sends its properly paid porters out with all necessary gear and clothing for the extremes of climate they'll encounter.

The hotel is also attractive to me because it's old-fashioned and familiar from my youthful days in East Africa – I spent many happy weekends and holidays in very similar surroundings. It may lack the luxuries of the big modern hotels in Arusha, but it's a family run business with a good reputation as a base for climbing Kilimanjaro. Yes, I'm going back to my childhood for this trip. I've booked in for two nights before and two nights after the six-day climb up the Rongai route, which will begin on 16th September. A day spent lazing by the pool and exploring the village area before starting the climb should get rid of any lingering travel fatigue, and has the added advantage of some mild altitude acclimatisation (apparently the key to a successful summit attempt), as Marangu is situated at nearly 6000 feet on the lower slopes of the mountain.

Many climbing operators pay off their porters and guides on the morning of the final day's trekking, then bus the trekkers back in the afternoon to a nearby hotel for a quick wash and brush up before transferring them straight to the airport for their return flight home. I much prefer the idea of the Marangu Hotel's way of ending the climb – everyone returns to the hotel for an informal party, where the trekkers can thank the staff in the traditional way by buying them drinks and giving tips and gifts to those who've been particularly helpful. There's apparently a singsong involved as well – it all sounds a lot of fun and a good way to end a hard few days of trekking. Another day of lounging by the pool or playing croquet should help to dispel some aches and pains before the enforced discomfort of a long flight home, although I'm working on the idea of adding a day or two's safari onto the end of my trip. It seems a waste to travel so far and not take advantage of all the locality has to offer.

Now the big decision has been made, I have to start researching flights, either to Nairobi or Kilimanjaro airport. I think it will probably be a straight choice between convenience and cost.

The month long hiatus in my travel plans is over at last. Lambing has finished -- with mixed results as usual. I decided not to enter the Black Mountain Roundabout walk after all, mainly because my pedometer indicated an average speed of 2.68 mph during a very un-taxing seven mile walk over my local hills that only involved an ascent and descent of a few hundred feet. I have to face the fact that I'm a slow walker (one of the penalties of being short in the leg). There's no way I could have completed the first twenty miles within the time allowed at this stage in my training. Fortunately, walking slowly is one of the keys to successfully reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro, so I'm naturally ahead of the game in one respect, at least.

Training has suffered, along with blogging and searching for a trekking group, during lambing. Lack of time and energy meant several missed swimming sessions and only one or two climbs up the farm each week with my weighted daypack. However, I think the numerous daily walks up the lambing field, often carrying twenty pounds of sheep feed or a couple of new-born lambs was mostly adequate replacement for my regular training regime.

I'm now in the process of buying a bicycle, which should increase my range of exercise. I gave up cycling years ago when I first moved up here into the hills; my old three-speed bike just wasn't capable of getting me up our precipitous Welsh slopes. Now, I've decided to invest in a mountain bike after borrowing one from a friend and discovering the joys of multiple low gears and suspension forks. Cycling has come a long way since I last sat on my trusty old three-speed. I've been bewildered by the choice of styles available – do I need a pure mountain bike, a trekking model or a hybrid? I've finally whittled down the choices to two models of 'comfort' mountain bikes, and will buy whichever I can get for the best price. Cycling should help build up leg muscle and give a good cardio-vascular workout without putting strain on my knees. I really need to save those knees for Kilimanjaro. Last week, I finally found another neoprene knee brace at reasonable cost, so I now have braces for both knees ready for the Kilimanjaro descent.

My new biometric passport arrived this week, complete with computer chip and dire warnings against damaging the chip. As letting it get too hot, too cold, bent or scratched will all cause potential damage, I can't see how it's going to last the lifetime of the little cardboard booklet. I do like the birds as passport wallpaper, though. Especially the red kite and the godwit, both a lot more recognisable than my own photo, so distorted by bad scanning (the passport office's work, not mine) and superimposed holographs that even my family and best friends wouldn't recognise me.

Progress (or lack of)

Preparations haven't gone well during the past week. Firstly, I've had a threatened head cold that's never quite made up its mind whether to turn into a full-blown streamer or just melt away. I gave swimming a miss last week because I just didn't feel up to it, and only took the dogs for a seven-mile walk over my own local hill at the weekend. Total height gain was only about 600 feet over some decidedly untaxing terrain, but at least the weather was pleasant – sunny with a light cold breeze. It didn't exactly blow away the incipient cold, but neither did it make me feel any worse.

Lambing has begun in earnest this week. I got little sleep last night, having slept on the sofa with my alarm clock set to go off every hour. Several freezing trips to the sheep shed eventually only resulted in one lamb being born at 5am. More sleepless nights are likely over the next three weeks, which will make it much harder to keep up the exercise regime. I'm still undecided about swimming tomorrow even if I feel able to leave the sheep for a couple of hours.

My equipment-buying spree is almost finished, as I now have everything I'll need for the trip other than small last minute purchases of medicines and snacks for the trek. Everything, that is, except the most important item of all – a good pair of boots. I've tried on the entire footwear section of three outdoor shops, including all the top brands and most popular lines with very limited success. They're all too loose, too tight, too narrow, too wide or just plain uncomfortable. The only pair that felt good on my feet were Meindl Borneo Pros – eye-wateringly expensive, of course – but I'm concerned they might be too heavy for my knees. I'm not convinced my knees are up to the task of dragging three pounds of leather up Kilimanjaro, especially on summit day. Lightweight fabric boots won't give the strength and support necessary for the summit descent, so I'm still hoping to find a suitable pair of leather boots. Time is not on my side, though, as they'll need a breaking in period of at least a few weeks before I leave for Tanzania.

I'm also having passport problems. My old one is due for renewal in August, so I sent it off together with the appropriate form, already filled in online and posted back to me by the passport office for signing. I've now received a letter from them saying my photograph has been rejected for being too light. As I paid £4 to have it taken in a booth in my local post office, I'm not pleased. I'm even less pleased with the replacement I had taken on Monday in the same booth (now fitted with proper blackout curtains, presumably in response to complaints from rejected customers). The original wasn't exactly flattering, but the most recent version makes me look like an extra in a horror film. At least they can't claim it's too light, even if it bears no resemblance to me.

And finally, I'm having no success in finding a trek operator that can give me the Kilimanjaro itinerary I want unless I'm willing to go alone rather than as part of a group. More on that subject later this week.

Roundabout

I'm thinking of entering the Black Mountain Roundabout in April; 6 peaks and 25 miles of mountain walking with a vertical ascent of 6500ft during the course of a ten-hour day. If I do enter, it will be with the aim of completing the course. I'm still uncertain of my stamina and ability – I know I can reach the half-way point without difficulty, and I'm fairly certain I could push myself to the 20 mile checkpoint. I don't know if I could keep up the pace, though. The walk begins between 8 am and 9 am, and anyone who hasn't reached the 20-mile point by 4 pm will be retired by the organisers. 2.5 mph may be slow on level ground but over rough, steep terrain for eight hours it's quite a pace.

The final five miles will be a killer – straight up 1800ft before descending back down to the start/finishing point. I'm not at all confident of being able to do that at the end of a long, tiring day's walking. I have another month of training to prepare, although entries need to be in by the end of March. I'll take as many longer walks as I can fit in before the deadline. I'll try for at least one 12 mile timed walk in the Black Mountains in the next month to see how I might cope with the pace, although that might be difficult once lambing starts.

Beaten off the track

Yesterday, I attempted to climb Pen y Fan, 2906 ft, the highest peak of the Brecon Beacons. I hadn't been up there before, and decided to take advantage of the good weather before lambing starts and I become confined to the farm for the next three or four weeks. It was further than I remember, driving to the main footpath at the Storey Arms near Libanus, so it was later than I intended when I finally set off up the long trail across the mountainside. I soon discovered it's really not my sort of walk – the path is wide and paved with rocks or gravel for most of the route to the summit, and very popular with walkers even on a sunny winter afternoon; definitely not a wilderness experience. I think it is probably a good miniature simulation of what I can expect on Kilimanjaro, however; the rocky terrain -- so different from the mud and bogs I've become used to -- the long, slow haul up the slope and of course, the very fickle weather. It was the weather that beat me, for just like Kilimanjaro, the Beacons form their own microclimate. They may be tiny in comparison with Africa's tallest mountain, but they are still frequently shrouded in cloud while the rest of South Wales basks in bright sunshine.

Yesterday, there was only a hint of cloud around the peaks when I set off, but by the time I reached the ridge about an hour after setting out, visibility was reduced to a few yards and a vicious wind blew hard across the stunted vegetation. There was an intersection of several paths on the crest of the ridge, and without any landmarks showing through the cloud, I had no way of knowing which one led to Pen y Fan. Trying to read my map was hopeless in the gale force wind – it would have shredded if I'd even tried to open it. The right hand path looked as though it was rising more than the two alternatives, so I decided to keep heading uphill in the hope it would lead to the highest point. I persevered for about half an hour, during which time the wind became fiercer and the cliff top path became rougher underfoot before I decided it was simply too dangerous to continue. Both the dog and I were in real danger of being blown over the edge. I have no idea how far down the cliffs reached; the drop was a bottomless void lost in swirling cloud. So, we headed back to the path leading down to the Storey Arms, passing other hooded figures that loomed out of the mist, heads down, with a grunt of acknowledgement as they struggled past us against the wind.

D the dog hated it. He hated the wind, the rocky path underfoot, and most of all, he hated the numerous other dogs we met on the paths. Only the ludicrous sight of a pug in a billowing Goretex jacket cheered him up for a few moments – he jeered, but I suspect his reaction was partly fuelled by envy. That wind was bitterly cold. A few hundred feet down from the ridge, we emerged into sunshine again and we both cheered up until some hill runners in T-shirts and trainers went down past us at high speed. Now that is demoralising when you're muffled up in a hooded jacket and carefully placing your feet amongst the rocks.

I used my walking poles for the first time during the descent. I must admit I've always thought of them as an affectation and been rather scathing in the past, but research has convinced me they're essential for Kilimanjaro. I was given a pair as a Christmas present, and thought Pen y Fan might be a suitable testing ground. It felt strange at first, but they're very similar to ski poles, so I quickly became used to them, and have to admit they were very effective. My knees didn't suffer at all during the hour-long descent. But I think a wrist brace might be a good idea in future when I'm using the poles – another old minor injury began to nag during the descent. At this rate, my rucksack will be overflowing with supports for all my damaged joints when I head for Africa. And on the subject of rucksacks – I received some very strange looks from other walkers who weren't impressed by my bulging daysack. They obviously thought I had everything but the kitchen sink in there, and they weren't far wrong; am I a complete idiot to be hauling 15lbs of ballast up a mountain?

The really annoying thing about yesterday's walk is that when I later looked at my map, I discovered I'd been within half a mile and only 150 vertical feet from the summit of Pen y Fan when I took that wrong path on the ridge. I'd actually walked further than if I'd climbed to the top of the Beacons, but had seen nothing of the usually spectacular views across the country and had no real sense of achievement. I also forgot to take my pedometer, so can only make a rough guess at how far I walked. Oh well, the exercise was useful, I suppose

One for the girls

TMI for male readers. For my first product review in this blog I can say that the Shewee is better than the proverbial sliced bread, even for women who aren't planning on climbing halfway into space. It's a brilliant invention, and like all the best innovative products, it's simple and cheap. I wish I could remember on which Kilimanjaro blog I first read about it last month. It sounded potentially useful for any long journey, and especially for trekking at altitude – those five to six litres of water to be drunk each day to stave off Acute Mountain Sickness have to exit sometime. Well, a lot of times, in fact. The thought of having to leave my tent four or five times each freezing night is definitely not one of the anticipated highlights of the trip. So, the Shewee, combined with an old mineral water bottle seemed an ideal solution to a perennial problem. A quick search on Ebay revealed at least a dozen suppliers. My Shewee arrived this morning and I immediately saw an unexpected bonus for the Kilimanjaro trip. All that water isn't only a nuisance at night on the mountain. It also means many short diversions behind the nearest tree or rock during each day's climbing. And despite the wilderness setting, there will be plenty of people around – other trekkers, guides and porters, sometimes passing in both directions. That's probably not too much of a problem in the rainforest or areas strewn with lava boulders and rocky outcrops to give cover, but the final two days before the summit will be spent in a lunar landscape and on open scree slopes. In the lunar desert, everyone can see – well, just about everything. So, this neat little invention that fits easily into a pocket will put any woman on even footing with the men on the expedition (and that could well be a pun – keep those boots out of range). Put simply, it allows women to pee standing up and without undressing. It's brilliant, and it works. Five stars, without a doubt.