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.

Slow going

No progress to report recently, as I've been busy with other projects for the past week or two. I had my second hepatitis B injection last Tuesday, so I'm now half way through the list.

I've been looking at some cheap flight sites for the trip but haven't yet made a concerted effort to finalise a booking. I have to say I'm confused by the choices offered – can't even decide which airport to leave from, let alone whether to fly direct to Kilimanjaro airport or via Nairobi then on by plane or minibus. The choice of airlines seems to go on and on. Kenya Airlines, Ethiopian Airlines, KLM, Virgin Atlantic, Air Emirates, Air Quatr – the list seems endless, though strangely doesn't include British Airways unless I'm willing to pay double the economy fare to travel business class, which, of course, I'm not. That's an irritation because I'm entitled to a 10% discount as a BA shareholder. I've owned the shares for more than 20 years and this is the first time I've had the opportunity to take advantage of the discount.

It looks as if my latest Ebay purchase is going to be a godsend. I'd been thinking of buying a lightweight folding luggage trolley for a while, to make carrying my extra-large holdall easier (sleeping bag, down jacket, sleeping pad etc. take up a lot of space in luggage). Last week, I finally bought one, though it hasn't arrived yet. The Glasgow airport bomb fiasco will no doubt mean vehicles will be banned from dropping off or collecting people from the terminals, so a trolley is presumably now an essential piece of travel kit. I know a lot of modern luggage has built-in wheels (my own suitcase has them), but wheels are a no-no for Kilimanjaro. Kit needs to be packed in soft-sided bags or rucksacks without hard projections so the porters can carry them on their heads.

This week will be the second anniversary since I dislocated my shoulder and it's still not 100% recovered. Lifting even moderate weights at arm's length is difficult – silly things like pouring water from a jug aren't easy, and I recently discovered it hasn't regained as much strength as I'd thought; when I stayed with a friend whose bath is the opposite way around from mine, I had difficulty getting out of the tub. The upper arm muscles that were paralysed by nerve damage have regained feeling and movement, but not full strength despite two years of exercise. It shouldn't affect my climb, but I am really afraid of another dislocation. I've had some success with training myself to fall on my side or shoulder when I slip on steep slopes (a regular occurrence in my muddy fields), rather than the normal reflex of putting out an arm to save myself. It was this reflex that caused the original injury. The possibility of this kind of fall on Kilimanjaro does bother me, and is another hazard to add to altitude sickness and evil bugs from recycled aircraft air. Any one of these could put an end to a year of preparation. I have contingency plans to deal with the last two, and intend to be very careful to avoid falls of any kind.

Good news, bad news

As the ratio is two bad to one good, I'm not doing so well just now, although the good news is *big*.

So, bad news first. Last week I sheared my sheep, during which one particularly large and obstreperous ewe kicked my feet from under me. I fell heavily (on top of her, so there is some justice), twisting my least reliable knee in the process. Despite ice and regular applications of 'Deep Heat', it's still stiff and painful if I try anything more strenuous than a gentle stroll. I went back to my regular walks up the farm with my daypack this morning, but it's obviously too soon for the extra weight and I'll have to rest the knee from strenuous exercise for at least a few more days yet. It also means I won't be able to resume my longer distance walks this weekend at a time when I should be increasing, not decreasing my exercise. I may try swimming as a rather unsatisfactory substitute later this week.

The next bad news is that my joy at discovering I'd only need three injections for the trip was short-lived and mistaken. I arrived at the travel clinic today, expecting to be given the single Hepatitis A/Typhoid jab, only to be told by the nurse that she'd just received news that Hepatitis B is now also a serious risk and I'd need three more jabs for that as well, plus a booster next year. So, Typhoid and Yellow Fever are now on hold until the Hepatitis course is complete in a month's time. Seems it's fortunate I started the medical preparations in good time. It's a nuisance because the clinic is held mid-afternoon, which really takes up a full half-day every time I have to attend. I could combine some of the jabs on the same day, but I'm wary of giving my immune system too much to deal with at one time. I think two or three different vaccines are enough at one sitting.

And now for the good news: I HAVE BOOTS! Yes, a pair of Meindl Borneo Pros, complete with new Sorbothane insoles. I just love Ebay. The boots have been used, but not mistreated. and are very comfortable. The insoles are a real bonus, as I've tried many different compounds but never found anything with enough cushioning under the balls of my feet – I suffer from friction and heat build-up after a few miles with most insoles. The Sorbothane seems to provide enough cushioning to prevent the movement that causes friction, so I'm hoping this is the answer to my prayers. The boots were ridiculously cheap at £33 including postage – the insoles alone cost £15 to buy new. I've saved myself around £100 on this deal and got the best boots available at any price.

So, I now have all the clothing and equipment I need for the trip. The only things left to buy are last minute oddments of medication and toiletries. Oh, and the air fare, of course, but that's another story.

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.