Kili50

The Kili50 Blogathon

2007-03-29T04:13:00.000+01:00

Kilimanjaro has been experienced in all its glory by The Kili 6, my 50th birthday is fast approaching, and it feels like the end game has nearly arrived. To use a sporting analogy borrowed from our friends across the pond....it's the bottom of the 9th innings and the count is loaded.

I set up this Blog in January 2006 to record our progress towards attempting Kili in February 2007, and to raise funds for a World Vision project in Tanzania. Well, you can read how Kili treated us by scrolling down from here to some great articles and pics...and I'm very proud and grateful to say that we've raised over £11,000 for a life-changing fresh water project for the small community of Kisiriri in central Tanzania.

But what about the Kili50 Blog? Blogs have feelings too, after all. Here are some bald facts about its short, but thrilling, life...and some Kili50 BlogOscars:

First article: Are you crazy or what? published on 13th January, 2006
Last article...so far, apart from this one: Machame Memories published on March 22, 2007
Total number of articles written so far: 92
Article distribution: Andrew 68, Eszter 11, Jon 6, Neil 5, Mrs M 1, Steve 1
Total number of words: loads!
Longest article: Jon's Machame Memories
Shortest written article: Eszter's Kilicam
Number of audio blogs: 2 (Foolish thank you and from the top of Snowdon)
Favourite article from my portfolio....considering how fit we finally became many long hard months later: Definitely fat
Neil's post Kili horror story. HEALTH WARNING....DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU WILL SHORTLY BE CLIMBING KILIMANJARO: Worth Doing....But Never Again
Eszter's more balanced view of The Final Push: READ THIS FOR A LESS PAINFUL ACCOUNT THAN NEIL'S: Eszter's summit night
Best Kili pics...from Jon & Eszter: The Big Picture
Most descriptive climb summary...an indispensable account for anyone considering the Machame Route - Jon's Machame Memories
Best (only!) article from Mrs M: Happy Birthday Andrew
Best (only!) article from Steve...written during the painful 5 hour transit stop in Addis Ababa airport on the way back: Steve's Frst Bloggerisation

I feel like this Blog has become an old friend. I'll miss it and have very fond memories of how it helped motivate us all in the long year of preparation; how it helped us meet new people in cyberspace, like Dale; new friends in the real world like Chris & Jillie in Shere, Jane's Gang, and Claire & John in a tiny Snowdon B&B; record great training trips like Snowdon and the Surrey Hills; crazy fundraising ideas like the Holloway Hill Climb and the sweltering Lymington Boot Fair; and much, much more.

I'll leave the Kili50 Blog as a living organism, rather than kill it off...it deserves to rest and enjoy a peaceful retirement (boy, does that sound good), and hopefully it will be a useful resource for anyone thinking about climbing Kilimanjaro. And if you happen to stumble across it and have read this far, please think about donating to World Vision for this very worthy cause in Tanzania. Thanks to the many generous people who have donated over the last year we've raised over £11,000 to make a start on the vital water project in Kisiriri, but they need so much more....

Onward and upward. The 50th is just around the corner...new challenges to face, old friends to meet, and new Blogs to write. But this one will always be closest in my ageing heart!

Machame Memories

2007-03-22T15:30:00.009Z

As I sit at my desk, looking at my lucky rock*, it's now three weeks since we climbed Kilimanjaro, but it seems much longer, and has acquired something of a dreamlike quality (but not a nightmare, thankfuly!).

* a small rock that James, one of our guides (aka 'Cheeky Monkey', for reasons that became very obvious during the trek), took great delight in putting on my rucksack one day. I kept it as a 'talisman' against his putting much larger rocks on it**, and carried it all the way to the summit and back down again.

** it didn't work!

The Food

I like my food, and I like quite a lot of it, so what we were going to get served, and how much there would be of it, for the 6 days of the trek was something of a concern. I needn't have worried on either count.

The meals were pretty much ideal mountain fare - high in carbs, and plenty of everything. As far as breakfast was concerned, it did rather help if you liked porridge. Luckily I love porridge, so filling up on two or three bowls full, liberally laced with honey, made for a good start to each day. The "cooked breakfast" that followed it was a nice touch, especially when you consider the conditions under which it was provided, although I'm not sure how sustaining a couple of teaspoons of scrambled eggs & a rather cardboardy bit of bacon actually was.

At the end of several hours walking, dinner was always very welcome. It invariably started with soup (thanks to whichever porter carried the innumerable packets of Knorr up the mountain!), and the main course involved a 'staple', such as pasta, rice or potatoes, together with sauces (the vegetable sauce we had with the pasta on the first night was a triumph), and perhaps fried chicken. On one day we were treated to roast potatoes and they were amongst the best I've ever had — crispy on the outside and beautfully fluffy inside. All that was missing was Yorkshire Puddings and gravy!

I think, therefore, our group's cook deserves a name check. Coming, as he does, from the ancient Chagga tribe, which has lived in the foothills of Kilimanjaro for the past several hundred years, he revelled in the wonderful, if not terribly traditional-sounding, name of River Cactus Mario. Inevitably, given his terrific cooking skills, he got called Super Mario.

The People

Your fellow trekkers can make-or-break a trip like this, where you're living at very close quarters for a week, in increasingly challenging conditions, and where tiredness & lack of oxygen can easily lead to short tempers.

Quite what we'd done to deserve the other people on our trek I don't know, but it must have been something very good, as they were a wonderful bunch. The chats with people on the walk, the easy banter at meal times, and the overall camaraderie all positively enhanced this trip for me (even if whoever snored like a battleship being launched rather detracted from the nights. Aren't ear-plugs great?).

The guides, porters and other trek staff were great too. It's now something of a cliché that the porters are near superhuman in their ability to almost run up and down Kili carrying 25kg of assorted kit, much of it on their heads. But it's a cliché grounded in reality. They are up before anyone else, they pack all the tents and kit whilst we enjoy breakfast, and they set off for the next camp so that everything's ready by the time we arrive. And, judging by the chatter that went on late into the night, they're also awake long after most of the group. Superhuman or not, we were all immensely grateful for their exertions.

The Trek

After occupying our minds with months of training, buying gear, suffering injections, and endlessly chewing beef on Ethiopian Airlines, we did actually have to climb Kilimanjaro. The trek, on the Machame route, at least, begins pretty easily, with a very pleasant day walking through the shade of Cloud Forest, creating a somewhat false sense of confidence — until you reach the first night's campsite, that is, which seemed considerably steeper than the walk had been so far. It was also our introduction to the "long-drop toilet", about which the less said the better (NB. you follow that link at your own risk!). On the bright side, Super Mario came up with a mountain of food.

Day two upped the ante a bit, with a fairly strenuous start up a steep ridge. It was somewhere on this bit that I inadvertently got ahead of our group, and fell into step with three porters and someone from a another group. It was only when I reached what was obviously the lunch stop — "obviously" because a) the path reached a plateau and b) people were having lunch there — that I realised no-one from our group was in front of me. The problem was, even though I was able to look down a very long stretch of the ascent, it was impossible to work out where our group was, partly because there were several different groups bunched together, and partly because each group looked much the same from above - mainly a sea of sun-hats. Eventually Meckson, the head guide, appeared, having apparently run (yes, run) after me, to put an end to my impromptu escape bid. After we'd had lunch, the rest of the day went according to plan, and Super Mario treated us to an avalanche of sublime roast potatoes for dinner at Shira camp. There is no truth in the rumour that I managed to eat double-figures of them. Nor that Peter (aka "Pirate Pete") matched me, roastie for roastie.

Day three was, theoretically, "acclimatisation day", meaning that we ascended several hundred metres, but then dropped back again to around the same height as the previous night to sleep. This approach exposes your body to the stresses of altitude, and then gives it a bit of time to adapt before going back up again. At the start of the day Hellen very sensibly advised us to liberally annoint ourselves with high-factor sun screen, and I am sure this greatly helped when we were pelted by hail a couple of hours later. A few of us diverted up to Lava Tower, which is, well, a tower of lava, jutting over 220 feet into the air.

Lava Tower was the highest point of our day, at about 4600m, after which we descended back down to Barranco camp, at 3950m to sleep.

Marathon runners, so it's said, hit a wall when they're partway through a run. Our wall was somewhat more literal, towering as it did about 1000 feet over the campsite, and dominating our immediate route up Kili. The Barranco Wall is an apparently sheer wall of rock, rising straight up the side of the valley. It's only when you look hard that you can see porters, who set off early, zig-zagging their way up the steep & narrow path that meanders up the wall. Thankfully the Barranco Wall is far less intimidating close up, as the path becomes more obvious. It's still very steep, with precipitous drops awaiting anyone careless enough to slip, but at least it's not actually vertical!

In fact, it was possibly the single most enjoyable part of the whole trek, combining a pleasantly shaded ascent of the valley, with some nice (if somewhat short) bits of scrambling here-and-there. Gaining the top of the wall brings the reward of some very good views, across to Meru, and up to Kibo, even if cloud closed in fast, completely obscuring the summit of Kili in our group photo. Because the next campsite — Barafu — doesn't have any water nearby we had to fill everything up at a stream en route, and carry it up there. Today also saw our last proper meal before summit night — a hearty, heavily potato-oriented stew, eaten in a mess tent on an otherwise barren mountainside. Arrival at Barafu saw a light snack of popcorn (which was served every day, on arrival at camp, and which was the best popcorn I've had anywhere), before we all turned in for a very early night, at about 7pm.

I don't know quite how much sleep I managed to grab before getting up again at 11.30pm, but it was more than I'd feared, if not as much as I'd hoped. I wouldn't say I was exactly raring to go, but at least I was all packed and ready, and after a quick cup of tea we all set off. Having done a bit in the alps (albeit almost decade ago) setting off in the cold of the wee small hours wasn't too much of a shock. I rather like the strange contradiction that whilst you're part of a group, you also feel almost completely alone in the darkness, and the whole world just shrinks to the few feet you can see in front of you.

Interestingly, modern technology rather spoiled this aspect. I was the only person using an "old school" Petzl headtorch — the type with the halogen bulb, twisty focussing collar, and huge battery pack at the back (on the left, below) — whereas everyone else had shiny new LED ones (on the right).

I am sure the new-fangled LED ones are very lightweight and efficient, probably cause less global-warming, and maybe even make toast — but they don't let you aim a tightly focussed beam at the boots of the person in front of you, so that, from a distance, it looks rather like the Mysterons are walking up the mountain.

The walk up the frozen scree to Stella Point seemed to take forever. Absolutely forever. For the latter part of the ascent I was immediately behind Mringi, our guide, and concentrated entirely on his boots, chanting with each step, "closer... closer still... closer... closer still...", using what über-mountaineer Andy Kirkpatrick called the "eating the elephant philosophy":

"If anyone asked you to eat an elephant you'd think it was impossible," he says. "But if you just ate a little bit every day, eventually you'd finish it."

Well, that's how I approached the final few hundred metres of Kili - just a step at a time.

Eventually, Mrigini turned round and caught my attenion. "Up there ... the big rock ... Stella Point". It was bizarre, but, tired as I was, I felt that I could have run up to Stella Point. Needless to say, I didn't, but I was defintely revitalised to know that such a landmark was clearly in sight.

When we reached Stella Point, Mrigni performed the best magic trick I've ever seen and pulled a thermos from his backpack. Hot tea! It was also at Stella point that Andy got Mrigni to hold Poohlet & Tiglet for a photo, producing a touchingly bemused look of wonderment

It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that we'd forge onwards and upwards to Uhuru Peak — we weren't likely to come back, so this was "it". The route from Stella Point to Uhuru Peak was entirely covered with snow — more than for many years, apparently — which really added to the experience. There was just enough ice that crampons would have been handy, but not so much that they were necessary. Still, walking poles came in very useful on more than one occasion.

Knowing that the summit was ~45 minutes away gave enough of a mental edge to make this part of the climb easier than expected. Still, at nearly 6000m, and after almost 7 hours hours of walking, nothing is exactly "easy", and the "rolling" nature of the crater rim provided enough false summits to maintain one's interest.

Mringi, Andy & I finally reached the summit at 8am. It was now that Andy's camera, having worked fine 100m lower, decided to fail. Numerous attempts at warming the camera itself, and three different batteries, failed to revive it. So, sadly, Andy didn't manage to get a photo of himself on the roof of Africa. The real tragedy, though, was that we would now forego the donation riding on a picture of Poohlet & Tiglet on the summit.

When we'd been on the summit for about 20 minute Mringi made it clear that we should start the descent — after all, we faced another 6 or 7 hours hard slog, most of it down scree, before we reached tonight's camp.

After going down for about half an hour we met some people from our group on their way up — Anne & Eszter, plus their guide, Hery. Eszter expressed the desire that I come back up with them to the summit, so we could have a picture together. What's a man to do? Well, what's a man who wants to keep his relationship to do, anyway?

Bidding adieu to Andy, I turned round and committed myself to going back up to Uhuru Peak, for the second time that morning! Despite being tired, and despite having thought I was on my way down, going back up was much easier than I'd feared — knowing exactly what was ahead, and just how much effort it would take, allowed me to pace myself well.

We reached Uhuru Peak at 9.20am, and thankfully our camera proved fully functional — Poohlet's & Tiglet's triumph would be preserved for posterity! Oh yes, and so would ours.

Unfortunately, reaching Uhuru Peak is far from the end of the day's walk, and the sense of relief at having got there is quickly supplanted by the realisation there are several hours of knee-crippling descent ahead, much of it down thawed-out scree. The only approach really is to just get it over with — there's nowhere to go but down, anyway!

Because we were one of the last groups to reach the summit (we met some decidedly tired-looking people still ascending as we made our way down), we were later than the others in our group in getting back to Barafu camp. Thankfully, however, some hot soup had been left for us, and we were also able to put most of our summit layers into our kit bags, which would then be carried to the final campsite by the porters.

It was at this point it transpired that our guide had been "managing our expectations" on the way down, telling us that the walk from Barafu to Mweka camp was over twice as long as it really was, in order to make us go faster. In his defence, it had worked! So, instead of about 6 more hours walking, it was really only about 3 more to go, and with the lure of being able to finally stop walking, and the encouragement of James, who was our guide for this last part of the descent, we made it to Mweka even faster than that. Although dropping ~3000m in 7 hours is pretty hard going, one really nice aspect of it is that you get to see several of Kili's "climactic regions" in very quick succession — the alpine summit, high desert, heathland, and heather forest. The last part of the descent was especially impressive, with a stunning view across a wide valley that was thickly carpeted in giant heather plants.

For some reason, no-one seemed terribly inclined to stay up after dinner — perhaps it had something to do with the 15 hours of strenuous walking we'd just done, who knows? So it was an early night for all.

The final day saw a short and very pleasant walk back down through Cloud Forest. We were even treated to a sighting of Colobus monkeys just before we arrived at Mweka Gate.

On arrival back at The Mountain Inn, and after nearly a week without being able to wash properly, I made a dash for the showers, which saw an impromtu re-enactment of the Herbal Essences advert as the hot water hit my body — "Yes... YES... OH, YES!"

Altitude & Acute Moutain Sickness (AMS)

For most people, the main problem when climbing Kili is the altitude. The summit, at 5985m, is classed as "extreme altitude", and AMS is a serious threat. Mostly the symptoms are "just" nausea, breathlessness, severe headaches, loss of appetite, dizziness, difficulty sleeping, and lethargy, but in its most severe forms it can lead to death. The fact that we were ascending Kili more than three times as fast as medically advisable (over 1000m a day, as opposed to the 300m advised) only made matters worse. Most people seemed to suffer from one or more of the symptoms, and, very sadly, for one person they were bad enough to force them to go back down after day three. (But he'll go back, I'm sure, and will reach the top next time.)

In the three weeks prior to Kili, Eszter & I did a course of "Intermittent Hypoxic Training" that, in theory, acclimatised us to about 6500m (9% oxygen). Whether it worked or not, we'll never really know — I have no intention of climbing Kili again without doing IHT just to find out — but I strongly suspect that it did, as neither of us showed any significant symptoms of AMS. The only thing I really suffered from were intermittent and brief headaches on day three. And I definitely didn't have any loss of appetite!

Overall

As experiences go, climbing Kilimanjaro tends to fall into the "once in a lifetime" category. It takes a lot of preparation, it's expensive, and it's very hard work to actually do. But, as with most "once in a lifetime experiences" — other than, say, contracting smallpox or being decapitated — it's well worth all the effort, even if it may not always seem so at the time.

I'll close with the words of a song (based on the one written by Kenyan musician Teddy Kalanda Harrison) that we sometimes sang as climbed. Hellen, our trek leader, seemed very fond of it, and the guides were happy to indulge her!

"Jambo! Jambo bwana!

Habari gani? Mzuri sana!

Wageni, mnakaribishwa!

Kilimanjaro, Hakuna Matata!"

which, roughly translated, means:

"Hey! Hey, man!

How's it going? Very Well!

Foreigners, you are welcome!

Kilimanjaro, No Problem!"

(Or, as Meckson told us to tell people - Kilimanjaro is "easy peasy, lemon squeezy!")

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz………

2007-03-16T09:37:00.000Z

Having been thinking about this since we got back, I've reached the conclusion that one of the major factors influencing whether people struggled to reach the top or were generally ok was the amount of sleep they got (or didn't). A good night's sleep is invaluable for feeling ready to tackle every day and rest is also supposed to help with acclimatisation.

Jon and I were lucky that we had little problems sleeping and felt more or less refreshed each morning. Similarly, many of the people at the front of the group on summit night slept relatively well on the previous nights. At the same time, people who didn't reach the top all had serious trouble sleeping and the sheer exhaustion was a big reason for not being able to carry on.

So, for anyone thinking about climbing Kili via a tent route, I would suggest the following:

1. Make sure that you are happy with camping. The ground underneath you will be hard and uneven, and the campsite will be noisy well into the night and first thing in the morning. If you've never been camping before, it would be worth trying this before you attempt Kili (hint,hint!).

2. Take earplugs. The campsite can get noisy, but also your "tent-mate" may need to come and go during the night, and sleeping bags can be very rustle-y in the silence of the night.

3. Find out about what sleeping tablets etc work for you and whether they are suitable for use at altitude.

4. If you're coming from somewhere where you'll be suffering from jet-lag, make sure you add an extra few days to your trip at the beginning to allow your body to adjust to the new time.

Any other suggestions welcome!

Gushingly Grateful

2007-03-11T04:30:00.000Z

A week ago we were starting the long flight home, still weary but elated by our Kilimanjaro efforts, whether we summited or not.

Normally on our walking holidays I manage to keep a fairly detailed journal of what we get up to each day. Sometimes it drives Mrs M nuts (like when I demand scores out of 10 for the soup course on the 3rd day of the Asturias stroll, or that pudding creation at the Hotel Adler in the Dolomites)....but even she admits it's a nice memento to look back on in our dotage, after it's all tarted up and enshrined with train tickets, photos and dog-eared restaurant bills.

I took a very flimsy writing pad to Kili, with the intention of scribbling down the bare factual bones of each day. At the end of the first day's Kili trek I had jotted down the following: 12:40 Machame Gate 1,800m-->5:40 Machame Hut Camp 2,950m. Pulse rates 20 minutes after hitting camp: Andy & Neil 60; Gill 84; Jon 88; Eszter 96; Steve ?

And that's it. Nothing else until we were back at base 5 interesting days later. By the time we reached our day 2 camp I was pretty sick, and the focus was on survival rather than creative writing. The ever-decreasing-drop latrine took a hammering all night, I was alternately shivering and sweating, and I really did think that it might be all over for me. And that kind of set the tone. Each day needed total focus on the challenges of that day's trek, with the magnificent Kibo peak constantly beckoning as the holy grail. And being completely non-campers, Mrs M and I struggled with the daily logistics of inflating thermarest sleeping mats (well, to be honest, she did), unfurling sleeping bags (Mrs M again), juggling kit between rucksacks and kit-bags...and generally trying to exist without standing up (note to Explore: any chance of larger tents for our next attempt....?)

We did succumb to an after-dinner game of ShitHead in the mess tent one night, otherwise it was a head-torched stagger home after supper for as much sleep as possible. And in Mrs M's case, sadly that wasn't much in the face of my peeing, crapping and snoring antics.

So all in all, the journal is a blank canvas. We did come up with some Descriptive Monikers for the Kili 6 back at The Mountain Inn after that wonderful first post-Kili beer:

Mrs M: Disturbingly Obsessed (or now Inflatingly Fatigued?)

Neil: Weirdly Focused

Jon: Disarmingly Frank (or Annoyingly Pedantic...take your pick)

Eszter: Determinedly Slow...or just plain Doggedly Determined

Steve: Youthfully Vigorous (not)

Andy: Gushingly Peeing (but not Enthusiastically Scribbling)

And since landing back on UK terra firma I've jotted down some collective terms to remember each enclave of our group by:

Peter, Steve, Jim & Richard - The Jocks (literal and honorary)

Leanne & Anne - Planet Canada

Simon, Terry & Shaun - The Wiltshire Boys

Kane - Psycho Mountaineer

Andy, Gill, Steve, Jon, Eszter & Neil - The Kili 6

Hellen - Relentlessly Positive

And when I say enclave, that doesn't begin to encapsulate how well the whole group integrated and helped each other. 6 days, 5 nights and 5,895m is a whole lot of enforced togetherness, and fortunately there was not one person who failed to enter into the great spirit of Hellen's Last Kili Hurrah. Apart of course from the tragedy of Jim's AMS-enforced descent on the morning of day 4 - a heartbreaking moment. Thanks for making the effort to meet us on the Final Stretch near Mweka Gate, Jim....that created a fitting symmetry when it would no doubt have been very easy for you to wait by the pool for our return.

I got some hard copies of my pics printed off today...they will end up in a wonderful personalised Kili journal given to me by old chums StuPot and McMaggie Anderson, that I can look back on from my rocking chair (in a couple of years time) and think: wow, we really did that, didn't we?

And I also smugly framed my Summit Certificate today. At the moment it's in the lounge but I fear it will be a constant reminder to Mrs M of how her incontinent husband and sleep-deprived thermarest-inflating sleeping-bag-unfurling efforts prevented her from summiting...so perhaps it would be maritally advisable to tuck it away in a dusty cupboard for a few years.....

Anyway, enough of Randomly Rambling. Thanks everyone for an unforgettable trip. 2 months from today will be my 50th birthday. I'll slip gently into my dotage and rocking chair, but at least I'll have some great memories of Kilimanjaro and what I achieved in my relative youth.

Eszter's summit night

2007-03-10T23:30:00.000Z

After Neil's horror story, I thought that in the interests of balance I should post my experience of the summit night, as I felt relatively ok.

My general approach to the whole trip was the traditional "pole pole", ie, to take it slowly. Except that my "slowly" was a lot slower than other people's "slowly". I was one of the few people without a Platypus hose to enable me to drink as I walked, so I had to stop to get my bottle out of my bag for a drink of water. I also had very frequent "pee stops", which is supposedly a good sign that your body is adapting to the altitude*, although it just meant that I had to stop all the more often to drink... So overall, I tended to be towards the back of the group faffing about with my stuff and tiring myself out in the thin air.

* Note: "clear and copious" does not apply at altitude, where your body is just dumping water due to the lower pressure, so you must keep drinking even if it seems like you've got more than enough fluid in your system.

There were a couple of occasions when I got very angry about all this – I felt it was unfair that people weren't waiting for me, as I needed time to take my backpack off, find a big rock to hide behind, have a pee, go back, have a drink, wrestle my bag back on and not even have a spare minute to have a rest, as the rest of the group had already set off and left me behind with a guide. To be fair, the guides were obviously used to this and had no problems waiting for me, but under the circumstances, you can't help but feel that you are holding the group up, so invariably I would rush after the rest of the group and get myself totally knackered in the couple of minutes it would take me to catch up.

From about 2,500m onwards, I got occasional mild headaches. They tended to get worse with more physical exertion, which was another reason why I preferred to walk slowly and why it was so frustrating to be lagging behind.

However, by summit night, I was used to being at the back and I decided that this was the only way that I had any chance of reaching the top – just keep going at a slow, steady pace and don't let myself be rushed.

I managed to get a few hours' sleep before we set off shortly after midnight. My tummy was a bit gurgle-y as my guts were trying to equalise with the pressure outside my body, but the Loperamide we took before starting the ascent obviously helped settle things down. For the rest of the night, I had no altitude sickness symptoms at all, not even the headaches that I had before, which was surprising, as I expected it all to just get worse. Maybe the extra day of acclimatisation had its intended effect.

The climb up to the summit was fairly steep (a gradient of about 1:5), but in the cold of the night, we didn't have too much of a problem with sliding back on the frozen scree, so at least it was possible to make steady progress. I stuck to my plan and took things slowly, but realistically, I really couldn't have gone much faster, simply because I was just so out of breath. I was taking very small steps – maybe about half a foot's length – and these got even shorter the closer I got to the summit. I got into a good rhythm of taking maybe 5 or 6 small steps and then stopping and resting for about 5 or 6 deep breaths and taking another few steps.

The group broke up into several smaller groups and Hellen had a difficult job making sure that there were enough guides with each sub-group to ensure everyone's safety. However, in the last couple of hours, I did end up being by myself somewhere in the middle of the scattered group, as I slogged away at my cycle of climbing and resting. It really worked for me and I was able to carry on like this for hours. I didn't even really notice the time – to me it didn't feel like an endless night, as I thought it would, but the sun started coming up all too soon and I was worried that I still wasn't near the summit, which just spurred me on.

In the end, I had to admit that I wouldn't reach Stella Point by sunrise, so I did have a little sit-down, dug my camera out and took some amazing pictures of the peak of Mawenzi. I definitely enjoyed that moment.

After that I continued my climb and in the growing light it was now possible to see the summit very clearly. It was tantalisingly close, but my painfully slow pace meant that it took forever to reach Stella. There were several times when I nearly burst into tears – I just felt like a child who couldn't get her favourite toy. I just wanted to be at the top, without the hassle of actually having to climb up. It reminded me of the final mile of my half-marathon, when I had the same feeling – when is this ever going to end?

Strangely, I don't really remember how I felt when I actually reached Stella Point. I was more grateful for the opportunity to rest than anything else. I was impressed that I still felt ok apart from being out of breath, so I considered whether to attempt Uhuru. The more I rested, the more I wanted to do it. My sensible side kept telling me that Stella already counts as the summit, so there's no need to push on, but my slightly more adventurous side (yes, I have one!) said – why not? You're here now and you feel ok, so why let this opportunity pass? It's not like you're coming back here any time soon!

When Hellen and the last few members of our group also reached Stella, we were treated to a nice hot drink. Hellen worked her magic with organising the guides, so Anne and I were allowed to attempt Uhuru, even though it was already relatively late in the day. We were amongst the very last people to go up that day, as on our way back down, we only saw one other small group of people coming up.

The way up to Uhuru was much better for me. There was good grip on the fresh snow, so it was easier to walk. It was also a much gentler slope, so it was possible to make faster progress. Poor Anne though was extremely tired and there were several times when we both thought we'd have to turn back.

On our way up, the view was superb, and we met many of our fellow group members on their way back down. In particular, we bumped into Jon and Andy, who explained that their camera didn't work at Uhuru, so they had no pictures of themselves (or Piglet or Poohlet, who I took up with me for a second chance) at the peak. After some emotional blackmail from me, Jon decided that he'd turn around and come back up to Uhuru with me! It was wonderful to have finally reached the top and I was so pleased that we got some pictures of Jon and me together at the summit.

By this time it was around 9:30am, so the sun was getting very strong, and with the white snow everywhere, it was impossible to see anything without our sunglasses on. It also meant that the frozen scree was starting to melt, so our way back down the mountain was very hard work, as we had to slip and slide all the way down. I think I found the way down even harder than going up, because by that time we'd been exerting ourselves for over ten hours, with relatively little food, water or rest breaks. Our progress was very slow, as Anne needed to stop many times because of sheer exhaustion, while I started feeling sick from the sugary drink I'd brought along to give me a boost of energy later in the day.

When we eventually made it back to Barafu camp shortly after 2pm, it was really disappointing to find that the rest of the group had already got there, had a rest, had some food and set off for the final descent to Mweka camp, which was another 3 hours away. However, after some hot soup we felt much better and the way down to Mweka was much easier. The air was noticeably better, so by the time we got there shortly after 5pm we felt reasonably good, apart from having very achy feet. We both slept very well that night.

Overall, for me summit night was very difficult, but only because of being so out of breath and needing to have the sheer dogged determination to carry on when you really just want to sit down and say "sod it, I don't care any more". But, I was very lucky as I didn't suffer from the altitude or the cold (it was a balmy –7C) so I could just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. It's definitely not easy-peasy, but it's doable. I am really pleased that Jon and I got up together, as I think I would have been very disappointed if we'd come back with just a picture of me by myself at the summit. It was a really amazing sight and I still have this happy glow that I've done it.

Not Quite A Horror Story

2007-03-10T13:14:00.000Z

Hmmm. Perhaps calling the trip, rather melodramatically, a 'horror story' wasn't such a good idea. That's the problem with being a writer, sometimes my creativity gets the better of me. Just ask my editor!

After reading my account below, several fellow Kili climbers contacted me, concerned that I didn't have fun. This may sound strange if you've read it, but actually yes I did!

As I said below, most of it was very pleasant. (Perhaps I should have emphasised that more? Ah well.) As for the final push, I knew it would be tough, but I'm fit and felt up to the challenge, and I proved myself right. I wouldn’t have enjoyed it if it was easy. What would have been the point?

The weird and random effects of altitude, for some reason, affected me probably more than anyone else that night. But that just gives me more reason to feel proud that I battled to the top.

I've already been talking about what my next challenge might be. I'll be very happy if I find something that gives me half as many great memories.

Worth Doing, But Never Again!

2007-03-07T19:11:00.000Z

So let me tell you a horror story. It was hard. It was the hardest physical thing I've done in my life. I made it to the summit with extreme difficulty. I didn't bother walking to the highest piece of rock on the very large summit, so I guess you could call it a first without honours. Whatever. It was tough. Everyone found it tough.

The symptoms of altitude sickness vary extraordinarily from person to person and can occur at any time. Some people had symptoms low down and didn't have anything else again, for example. In our group of 16 there was dizziness, nausea, severe headaches, nose bleeds, hallucinations, diarrhoea, tingling fingers and toes, and maybe one or two other things. I had none of these symptoms. In fact, up to about 4,500m I relatively waltzed up. However, from then onwards I experienced greater difficulty moving than probably anyone else. Just taking off my boots caused me to pant heavily.

From 3,000m we all had noticed that moving, especially upwards, was increasingly difficult. The longer we remained at altitude the harder it got and the higher we went (obviously) the harder it got.

13/16 of us made it to the summit, which is very good as only about half are generally expected to make it at the speed we did it. You really shouldn't try to get to 6,000m like we did in just five days! The summit day was the real tough one that made it so extraordinarily challenging. During the day we'd walked for nine hours from 3,900m to 4,600m. Afterwards, at 6.30pm, we went to bed and tried - and failed - to sleep. Less than five hours later we got up again and had tea and biscuits. That was our dinner, because we were about to attempt the summit, and high altitude makes you lactose intolerant and shuts down your digestive system. For the summit attempt we relied on sweets and glucose drinks. We could have nothing with caffeine in as it's a dangerous stimulant up there.

So at twenty past midnight we set off. I panted the whole way. It was unbelievable. Each step was a huge effort. For the seven hours and ten minutes it took me to climb those last 1,200m my heart rate was around 170bpm. It was exhausting. Despite being well equipped, my hands and toes suffered terribly from the cold. For the last couple of hours I was moving forward at just six inches for each step; my feet were overlapping. My body was protesting extremely against the effort. During that time I was stopping to catch my breath perhaps every minute. We couldn't have many rest stops, because the affects of altitude were compounding, plus we started to become hypothermic whenever we stopped for even 30 seconds.

When I made the summit (as the sun rose) I was frozen and exhausted. As much as I didn't want to move, I was concerned about hypothermia and worsening altitude problems, so I knew I had to get down. The problem was that there were things to sort out like photos, guides turning up...all sorts of things that delayed the descent by about 15 to 20 minutes. When we finally went down it was easier to travel faster, but it was important to descend as quickly as possible so that we could get warm and get to a safer altitude from altitude sickness. So my heart rate was still around 170bpm for another hour. That means my heart was struggling hard for over 8 hours. Quite frightening, huh?

To get down the first 1,000m or so we slid on scree (very loose small stones up to 30cm deep) using our heels as skis. You could cover a huge amount of ground very quickly doing that. It was hard work though.

Because everything is so much harder/heavier at altitude, I had only brought 2 litres of water with me for the summit night/day, with no opportunity to fill up until around lunchtime on the way down - more than twelve hours after we set off. (To compare, on all the previous days I had drunk an average of 8 litres of water. Altitude makes you need to drink more too.) I was very dehydrated, particularly as it got roasting hot as we moved rapidly below 4,000m. It is on the equator after all!

That day, from midnight to getting down, we walked for about 15 hours. During all this time I had a piece of bread, a glucose drink, a biscuit and a few sweets. At the end of the day, when we got to camp at a much safer 3,000m, I was too exhausted to wait for dinner, so I slept. By the time I got up I hadn't eaten anything substantial for 36 hours.

The next day we came all the way down. We were (and still are) all completely fucked, inside and out. Our bodies were so exhausted, abused, full of various drugs and pills and things, confused by strange diets and suffering from unhygienic conditions. That first night back down in the hotel I had a terrible fever. For the next day or two I was nauseous and retching, and I've had bowel and stomach problems and...other things. (Let's keep it vague, I'm trying to regain my appetite!) My heart rate is still above normal. I still can't eat properly. Altitude really messes you up.

...

Hey yeah! So, cheery stuff, huh? So, like, did anything good happen? A few days ago, I couldn't remember anything good, but it's all coming back now, especially after having seen some of the photos. With the scary stuff out of the way, I can think of a lot of great things about the trip. Most of the climb - the first three days in particular - was very pleasant indeed. The scenery was incredible. I shan't bother to describe it because describing scenery is never like being there. See the photos:

http://snipurl.com/1c2mk
http://picasaweb.google.com/kiliandrew2/AndrewSKiliPics

One of the many highlights (a champagne moment, to coin Andy) was scrambling up the Barranco Wall. The views were great and it was an enjoyable climb. It was 300m high at roughly 4,000m altitude at the base. At this stage, I was still relatively free from altitude problems. In fact, one of the local mountain guides, James (nickname Cheeky Monkey), put three rocks in my bag and I didn't realise until after we got to the top. Just one rock makes a huge difference at that altitude. I got him back by throwing snow in his face at 4,600m. The other mountain guides were very amused to see someone get James for a change!

I was lucky enought to see some colobus monkeys in the jungle at the bottom on the way back down. That was cool. I also learned a fair bit (relatively) of Swahili. Languages are always an enjoyable part of my holiday experience.

The local mountain guides and porters were great. They are also poor. At the bottom I gave them almost all my equipment (what little I hadn't borrowed or rented). They need it more than me and they earned it. The nine other guys in the party (non Kili6ers I mean) were cool companions. The tour leader, Hellen Bunn from t'Yorkshire, was a remarkable lady.

Another champagne moment was on the descent from the summit. We'd hurried for perhaps two hours. It had got warm again. We collapsed in the loose stones and lay down looking at the blue sky and the big red and black rock walls of the huge valley we'd entered. (Most of the mountain was 'regular' grey rock, but not in this area.) We just lay there and no one said anything in the comfortable heat for maybe five or ten minutes. I can't think of a more serene moment.

What else was good...Oh yeah, we did it! And it was an amazing experience.

...

Today my appetite is a bit better, so I'm recovering a little. I lost 4kg (9lbs) on Kilimanjaro, which is horrific, as I had no fat to lose. In today's measurement, that's the equivalent weight of two copies of the fourth Harry Potter book (in hardback) of mostly muscle that I lost. I'm stuffing food and 'build-up' drinks into me as I type. One solid month of gluttony and three of training will sort me out again!

I told a friend that this was fucking hard. She asked "Fucking hard good, fucking hard bad or just fucking hard?" I said "I can't really describe it. I don't know the answer." I still don't know the answer. What I do know is that I'm glad I did it. But I'm never going to do it again.

Andrew's Kili pics

2007-03-05T22:32:00.000Z

Not quite as professional as Jon & Eszter's pics (see previous post and link) but my Kili pics are now online here: http://picasaweb.google.com/kiliandrew2/AndrewSKiliPics

Focus was on survival rather than snapping photos, so mine tend to be more of camps and rest spots than action pictures. Would have been great to record us all scrambling up the Barranco wall, or the head-torched procession on the final summit ascent, but my camera was safely tucked away in the rucksack as I concentrated on staying alive!

Regrettably all my 3 batteries froze on the summit, somewhere between Stella Point and Uhuru. But I did make it, trust me, and all the pain and joy of being on the crater rim is indelibly etched into my heart and mind. Fortunately, Jon returned to Uhuru with Eszter in a relationship-saving gesture and took some great photos. I hope others in the group will also have unforgettable shots that we can post here.

Photos are a great memory but I think all of us will remember every moment of the trip for a long time to come.....

The Big Picture

2007-03-05T11:37:00.000Z

Our pictures are now online at http://snipurl.com/1c2mk

There may seem a lot, but we could have taken 10 times as many*, had 'logistics' permitted. But, even though we only walked relatively slowly (or pole pole, as the Swahili has it), we tended to walk 'consistently', and taking a lot of photos as we went along just wasn't realistic, as stopping & starting would have been very disruptive - hence quite a lot of pictures of either lunch stops, or camp sites.

* we did actually take twice as many as are online, but I've removed duplicates and ones that didn't "work".

It's Good To Be Back Home Again

2007-03-04T15:46:00.000Z

Eszter & I are back home in Bristol, after a gruelling 21 hour journey, involving 6 changes of transport (minibus, plane, plane, coach, train, coach and taxi), and a seemingly interminable changeover at the infuriatingly disorganised & seriously dull Addis Ababa airport - never mind the gruelling 6 days climbing & decscending Kilimanjaro.

Arriving back home is always a cause for mixed feelings - sadness that the adventure & the experience of a lifetime is over, mingled with a realisation that we had to return to "reality" at some point, and a sense of comfort at being back in familiar surroundings.

Do we have reflections? More than a hall of mirrors. Were there high spots & low points? Sure there were - treasured highs (literally & metaphorically) and thankfully few low points which, whilst bad or sad at the time, were overcome, as we moved onwards and upwards. Overall, we're left with an over-riding memory of a phenomenal mountain, and a week or so happily, if exhaustingly, spent with a terrific bunch of people - group members and local porters & guides alike.

But the washing machine's ready for the second load so far, and I think the last dose of Imodium is wearing off. More to follow...

Steve's First Bloggerisation

2007-03-03T19:06:00.000Z

Why hello there!

I believe this is my first blog that i will have posted, and if you don't know me then apologies for the bad sppeling and shocking usage of grammer...

...Wow! Is what first springs to mind... As you may have gathered, Kili is quite a large hill poking its head proudly above the African clouds...

After 4 gruelling days of ascent we were faced with 8 hours of the most mind-boggling pain/exhaustion/up-hill struggle to reach Stella Point. Those who were in a fit state to do so somehow continued for a further hour to Uhuru Peak (Africa's highest point). I, with headache (yes, i'm about to start whingeing), nausia, shortness of breath, a heart rate of about 180 bpm and flashing spots/lights in my eyes, was advised to go down. I was a bit gutted that i couldn't go the extra hour to Uhuru but still pretty darn chuffed that I was able to officially conquer Africa's highest mountain.

Anywho, i have 5 minutes of Ethiopian time left on this amazing computer in this amazing airport..in amazing health. Must dash. Will write again soon, i promise! ...I have some photos to put up...

Hugs and kisses,

Steve xx

First reflections....

2007-03-03T18:31:00.000Z

Killing a very dull 5 hours in Addis Ababa airport, in transit from Kili back to London after our epic trek. Most of us are suffering from African tummy and mountain aches, with Imodium and Nurofen in high demand.

So how are we all feeling? Elated, knackered, tired, disappointed. And many more emotions, but all of us awestruck. As the plane rose from Kili airport in the early evening, above the clouds on the right hand side we had an incredible view of the snow capped volcanic peaks of Kilimanjaro. To see them soaring way above the clouds - 3 miles above sea level, for goodness sake - made us realise the scale of the challenge we had just completed.

The start of the trek already seemed a lifetime away. Our group of 16 climbers miraculously grew to an entourage of 60 at our starting point of Machame Gate. Hellen, our tour leader, Mexan the head guide and 4 other guides, and 38 - yes, that's 38 - porters to carry all our gear for the whole attempt. The porters carry everything - tents, food for everyone for 6 days, other equipment - on their heads all the way to the final camp at 4,500m. To see them sprint up the Barranco wall with tables or 15kg kitbags seemingly glued to thier heads will stay with me forever. To climb this wall took all my concentration but I know that others have photos that will convey the gradient of the wall and the incredible commitment of the porters.

Andrew's initial champagne moments:

the hailstorm on the way to the Lava Tower on day 3 just after Hellen had encouraged everyone to slap loads of sun cream on. Very intense and painful....Kili acupuncture according to Jon
the Barranco camp, surrounded by native Senecio plants looking like giant cactus plants, and with the most amazing sunset towards Kibo
the Barranco wall and the ensuing valley walk...an appetizer to the main course summit
summit night. Hell and heaven. The worst and best experiences of a lifetime all wrapped into one

Andrew's initial brown ale moments:

start of day 4 at the Barranco camp when Jim, suffering from severe AMS, had to leave the group and descend the mountain. Heartbreaking
reaching the summit without Gill and separated from the rest of the Kili 6. And then finding all 3 of my camera batteries had frozen
feeling so sick on day 2, whether from AMS or a bug I'll never know, that I had serious doubts about being able to continue

Loads more reflections from the Kili 6 to follow and hopefully some thoughts and photos from the rest of the trekking group to follow..

It Is A Very Big Mountain

2007-03-02T13:56:00.000Z

We're down, we're alive and Kilimanjaro is conquered.

5 of the Kili 6 summited in the early morning of Thursday 1st March. Gill unfortunately didn't quite make it, heading back to camp after 3 gruelling hours of vertical climb from 4,500m and physically unable to face the remaining 4 hours still needed to reach Kili's summit at 5,895m. Her condition was probably largely as a result of sleep deprivation, Andy having exited their tent about 7 times a night for a pee on the previous 5 nights. Sorry, Mrs M...next year perhaps?

Summit night was extraordinary. Woken up at 11 pm, with little or no sleep, after a tough 8 hour hike that day, we headed out under a nearly full moon and a cloudless sky at just after midnight and with nothing more inside us than tea, biscuits and trepidation. The next 8 hours were THE toughest thing I have experienced, either physically or mentally. We all suffered serious problems at different stages but this is such an extreme challenge that you can't attack that altitude in so few days without expecting some symptoms.

To see the sun rise over Africa behind our heads as we trudged up the final sections was amazing. And as we hit Stella Point, at about 5,740 metres the first point on the crater rim summit, the morning was perfect. Physically and emotionally drained, Jon and I hauled ourselves to Uhuru Peak at 5,895 with Meringi our guide, boots and poles squeaking on the ice under fresh snowfalls, with the subtle colours of spectacular glaciers shining in the brightness of the sun.

Unfortunately my camera batteries had frozen at Uhuru, but my body and mind have recorded the experience in full technicolour detail. The descent was almost more brutal, 1,300m of dusty scree and craggy rocks in unsheltered blazing 30 degree heat. Quick rest and then a further descent of 3 hours to Mweka camp at 3,100 metres....all in one simply amazing day. Never again.

We're in Moshi now after a great lunch with our guides and a few Kilimanjaro beers. The first shower at the Mountain Inn earlier was HEAVEN.

Celebratory dinner tonight with a few more Kili beers and back to the real world tomorrow. It will never be the same again.

Andy & The Kili 6

We're going now....

2007-02-22T22:42:00.000Z

....and unlike Scott, Oates and the gang we hope we make it back.

Follow our schedule here and we'll try and post a blog article as soon as we are back in Moshi, after our summit attempt on 1st March. It should be challenging, as an eye witness doing the climb this week (thanks for the insights, Bob) says there is more snow at the iconic summit than for the last 10 years. Bring it on.

The thermals, platypuses, poles, 4 season sleeping bags, and more drugs than you'll find on an average Friday night in Guildford High Street, are all packed. Too late to do any more training. Ethopian Airlines are calling. Tanzania and the majestic Mount Kilimanjaro...the waiting is over.

Thanks to everyone for their good luck wishes and cards. Your encouragement will put a spring in our steps, if not much needed oxygen in our blood. And many many thanks to all who have helped us raise more than £10,000 to start World Vision's life-changing water project in the Kisiriri community in Tanzania. Read more about what you've helped to do here...and if you stumble on this and haven't donated, the total needed is much more than £10,000 so please feel free to help out here.

Wow...we're really doing this.

The Kili 6

The Suffocating Machine

2007-02-22T10:46:00.000Z

Eszter & I were very interested in the hypoxic testing and training that Andrew's been doing. However, as don't live in London, using The Third Space's hypoxic chamber wasn't really an option. We did explore the possibility of using the chamber at TeamBath - a £30 million sports facility at Bath University, including a Sports Training Village used as a training base by Olympic and world-level athletes. Whilst they were very helpful, it just wasn't practical, partly because of their opening hours, and also because of the travelling time.

So, we bit the bullet and hired a hypoxicator - a machine that sucks oxygen out of the air and feeds it to you via a mask - from The Altitiude Centre (run by the very helpful Richard Pullen, who knows a thing or three about endurance events). Eszter's mum, who's a doctor, took to referring to it - somewhat disturbingly - as The Suffocating Machine, and the label stuck. It wasn't a cheap option (we've had entire holidays for less), but if it means we could enjoy climbing Kilimanjaro a bit more, and minimize the risk of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) then - in the context of the overall cost of the trip - it doesn't seem quite so bad.

The hypoxicator is used to perform Intermittent Hypoxic Training (IHT). So what's that all about then? To quote from the website of GO2Altitude (manufacturers of the machine we hired) -

IHT exposes the recipient to "hypoxic air" containing 16 - 9% oxygen (equating to an altitude exposure of 2,000 to 6,500 metres above sea level) intermittently at 4-6 minute intervals alternated with breathing normal (sea-level). The 45-90 minute session is conducted once or twice a day while the participant sits comfortably, perhaps while reading or watching television. A course of acclimatisation requires 15 – 20 sessions.

Exposure to altitude in the aforementioned manner stimulates the various biochemical and physiological adaptations necessary to ensure an increased oxygen carrying capacity within the body, ensuring the user is adapted to the altitude of the proposed destination before even leaving sea-level.

Watching TV whilst doing it is more of a challenge than it sounds. For one thing you're having to clamp a large face mask to your head, and support an air reservoir the size of a rugby ball. For another the machine is loud, so the TV has to be at an anti-socially high volume. And you're having to keep an eye on the display, so you know how your pulse and oxygen saturation levels are doing, and can see when to start or stop using the mask.

We started off at 13% oxygen - equivalent to being at about 3,900m, which is already into the region where AMS can start to strike. You could definitely feel the lack of oxygen, and you could see the effect on little graphical read-out on the machine, as the oxygen saturation of your blood fell from its usual ~100%, to around 85%. Every few days the oxygen was reduced by 1%, until it was down to a mere 9% - as if we were at 6,500, or about 600 metres higher than Kilimanjaro. The first few times at 9% were decidedly soporific - rather like when you're trying to read before going to sleep, but you just can't keep your eyes open. But as the days passed, it got easier, presumably as our bodies adjusted to the rarified air.

Anyway, personal experience of breathing air with 9% oxygen for just 5 minutes at a time makes me very glad that we're only going up to a mere 5895m, where there's a whopping 10.1% oxygen. (That's 12.2% more actual oxygen, so is more significant than it might seem.) But it does make me marvel people who have climbed Himalayan peaks without oxygen - at the top of Everest there's less than 7% oxygen! Nuff respect to Reinhold Messner.

Will it work? We hope so. However, we obviously won't know how we'd have performed if we hadn't done IHT. But if we can get to the top without feeling too dreadful, we think it will have been worth it.

And in just over a week we'll be able to let you know...

Gym and tonic

2007-02-21T23:07:00.000Z

I think most people would agree that gratuitous non-competitive exercise is a necessary evil rather than one of life's great pleasures. For most of my own very nearly 50 years it's always been fairly near the bottom of the to do list...and when the day is disappearing the gym trip would conveniently find its way to the next day's agenda. And the next.

Until now.

The imminent challenge of climbing Kilimanjaro has finally focused my mind, and for probably the first time exercise has been right at the top of my priority list over the last few months. We'll soon see if this completely out of character steely eyed focus has paid off. And if it has it will largely be due to the third space gym in London.

If you really have to get fit - whatever your personal agenda - this is the place to do it. I'm not on commission, honest...but this place is motivating, stimulating, professional and - damn, I never thought I'd hear myself say this - sometimes even FUN.

I've concentrated mainly on using the hypoxic chamber as a way of preparing as much as possible for trekking at altitude. We know we're attempting the climb with minimal acclimitisation time, and then ascending faster than the optimal pace, so exercising at a simulated 8,500 feet with reduced oxygen is at least a start. Not the 20,000 feet we'll need to conquer, but hopefully a small edge.

But the whole gym is so open, an atmospheric architectural mix of glass and steel, that you feel like you're taking part in a spinning class, or Thai boxing, or in the swimming pool through the glass floor below you, whatever your own activity might be. And the in-house DJ spinning the decks projects a funky image that just puts an extra skip in your treadmill pace. Fancy a game of ping-pong or foos? No problem. And a range of classes that make you sweat just reading the schedule. I haven't tried the Persian cerebral Pilates session yet, but I'm sure it's rewarding.

There are some great personal trainers who will design a programme to suit your own objectives. And not like other gyms...they really listen to you and think about the programme, it's not just By The Numbers. Thanks to JD and Chris, both Kili conquerors, for their motivation and wise words!

And if you're unlucky enough to need the services of the medical centre, everyone there is equally professional and attentive. My ageing body has needed the manipulations of Clare, Belinda and Barry over the last few months...special thanks to Barry for his expert physio work on my dodgy back this week. I'm raring to go now...especially as Mrs M has offered to carry my rucksack all the way up Kili.

So huge thanks to everyone at the third space. Keeping fit can really be fun after all...wow, that's a revelation. Shame it took me 50 years to find out.

Teetering on the brink....

2007-02-18T21:55:00.000Z

Do you want the good news or the bad news?

Well, actually it's fantastic news. As of now, late on Sunday night and one week before our first night's camp on Kilimanjaro, our fundraising target of £10,000 for World Vision in Tanzania is so close I can smell it. Unless it's the Ralgex (see below for the bad news).

We're standing on a cumulative £9,809 thanks to some very generous donations from a lot of friends, family and colleagues in the last couple of weeks, and because of a substantial pledge today from my brother Paul and sister-in-law Carol. And if their pledge becomes a reality in the next couple of weeks - conditional upon some personal financial shenanigans, Paul assures me, rather than any of us summiting* - the tax relief on the pledge would push us over the edge. Symbolically, of course.

So conveniently ignoring the original wildly ambitious target of £25,000, we're there. Well, if Gordon Brown can reforecast the budget deficit so creatively, then so can we...

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has contributed so far. This really will make a huge difference to the community of Kisiriri in Tanzania, as you can read here. We'll continue to track progress of the water project through this blog, and there's even the possibility that we could go back to Tanzania in 2008 to see the completed work and meet the community, thanks to World Vision.

With the fundraising tape breasted - well, almost - it's time to focus 100% on the challenge at hand. And from my personal perspective the timing is a real bummer, as our friends across the Atlantic would say. After months of training and feeling really confident about fitness and the whole psychology thing - BANG, a week before D-Day I've been hit by a double whammy. Flu AND the Return of The Dodgy Back. Fantastic. I've spent 3 days already cramming Nurofen and Lemsips down my throat, and Mrs M has been Ralgexing my ageing lower back.....resulting in a slight easing of the back pain, so that I can at least begin to contemplate hauling a heavy rucksack up 3 vertical miles to almost 6,000 metres above the African plains. But still feverish. I can feel the energy draining away by the minute...

Oh well, I didn't want to do any final training this week. I'll just hope that nature, drugs and the skilled hands of a physio from the third space can weave their magic by Friday. And that I haven't passed any dodgy germs on to Mrs M, in which case I'm in serious trouble.

I hope the rest of the Kili 6 are in good mountain climbing fettle. Neph # 1 Steve had his 22nd birthday today and looks well up for the challenge. Mrs M is in peak condition as long as that sore throat doesn't develop.....Neil's knee is under control. Last time I saw Jon he looked like a fit whippet, and Eszter is hopefully eager to escape the pressures of the legal profession and take it out on Kili.

See you all on Friday. Lemsips and Nurofen appreciated.

*summiting. What a ridiculous word...and another from our North American cousins, I suspect. Like the winningest football team in a season. Or getting acclimated. Two nations divided by a common language indeed. In any event I hope I make it to the top of Kilimanjaro by sunrise on Thursday 1st March, bad back, flu 'n' all.

A Brother's Right To Reply

2007-02-10T06:59:00.000Z

The article below talked about exactly where any funds raised for World Vision through our Kili efforts will go. I also mentioned that my brother Paul has been promising a generous donation but is keeping his powder dry for now...

We're currently at £8,100 with my (much older) brother Paul teasing us with promises of a very large donation, contingent upon Crystal Palace winning a football match. Could be a very long wait....

Well, he tried to post a response to my gentle goading but hasn't got Blogging Access to Kili50. In the interests of freedom of speech, fairness and brotherly love, here are his kind words...completely free of editorial intervention:

Hi Bloggers - it's the "slightly" older, but much better looking brother of Andy here (and father of Steve!). Having followed Andy's dream for nearly two years - and having the courage, but not unfortunately the knee ligaments, to join the trip, Carol and I are indeed going to greatly assist the coffers with a donation as promised. It is subject to one "personal finance condition" but happily it does not relate to any of our football or cricket teams winning! I hope to be able to confirm the amount prior to lift off but it will still leave a little amount required from a few donors to help Andy reach the target. So dig deep and help a most worthy cause.

Paul

There you go...still tantalising us, Bruv. Whatever and whenever you donate will be much appreciated. And I'm sure in no way a guilt-relieving gesture, as suggested by Steve, for not being with us. Hope the knee ligaments continue to improve on the golf course and through the support of your personal trainer...we'll be thinking of you as we stretch our bodies, minds and souls to the limits on Kili in just 2 weeks from now.

EXACTLY where the money will go....

2007-02-07T22:31:00.000Z

In just over 2 weeks we'll finally be heading out to take on Kilimanjaro. My own original motivation to take on this challenge was the imminence of my 50th birthday. You could call it a mid-life crisis, I suppose...but I just wanted to check out the old plumbing before it shuts down completely for the winter. In a metaphorical sense, of course.

But an added ingredient was the desire to raise some funds for World Vision, a charity close to my heart for about the last 10 years.

We wrote earlier of the intention to give a small amount back to Tanzania in exchange for borrowing their large mountain for a week.

World Vision have one of their Area Development Projects in the small central community of Kisiriri, and we agreed with the charity that any funds we could raise would benefit the local people there.

Well, now we can be even more precise about where any funds generously donated by you for our Kili cause will go. Thanks to Peter at World Vision for the following information:

One of the main problems that the people of Kisiriri face is a lack of clean, safe drinking water. The only water they can collect is from unprotected traditional wells and seasonal riverbeds that dry out during the dry periods.

This leads to various problems, the lack of water meaning that local communities spend a lot of time collecting water, time that could be spent going to school or earning a living.

And the water that is collected is not safe or clean. As a result many diseases and infections are caught. One of these is guinea worm, which is a horrifying result of drinking contaminated water and creating worm larvae incubating inside the body and growing up to 3 feet in length over a long period, before slowly and painfully emerging through the skin.

The World Vision funded project aims to reduce poverty in Kisiriri by providing improved access to clean safe water and basic sanitation. It will also reduce waterborne diseases.

The project's main milestones are:

mobilise the village government leaders and community members to ensure that the project is sustainable
carry out a full analysis of the area
carry out a hydro-geological survey of the area
drill and construct 3 boreholes
buy and install 3 pumps for the boreholes
train 24 water pump attendants in pump installation, maintenance and repairs

The budget for the whole project is still being finalised but preliminary estimates are a total of approximately £100,000. But the £10,000 target that we've set is critical and will allow all of the initial survey and construction stages to be carried out, before the seriously expensive pumps (US$30,000 each!) are installed.

In detail, the £10,000 will pay for drilling all the test holes needed for the project; construction of the wells themselves, including drilling, installing the casing and installing the filter; carrying out all of the water testing, including sampling the water for its physical/chemical and bacteriological qualities. This is all obviously a vital part of the project as it makes sure that the water is safe!

We're currently at £8,100 with my (much older) brother Paul teasing us with promises of a very large donation, contingent upon Crystal Palace winning a football match. Could be a very long wait....

So if you read this please help us get closer to the target by donating here. You will be enabling a few people in central Tanzania to reduce the risk of suffering from the horrors of guinea worm, for example, and to benefit from something that we all take for granted - fresh, clean drinking water.

A pictorial history of Kili training...so far

2007-02-02T02:00:00.000Z

Better late then never...here are some pics of different Kili related walks and trips over the last 12 months, thanks to Picasa.

Snowdon May 2006

French & Swiss Alps August 2006

Surrey Hills October 2006

Jane's gang Elstead, Surrey January 2007

Next stop...Kilimanjaro, Tanzania February 2007. And as you can see from the quality of these photos, hopefully Jon will be the official tour snapper.

Jane's Gang

2007-01-29T22:10:00.000Z

Remember the really muddy and soggy Surrey yomp Mrs M arranged for 29th December? Designed as a good way for people to work off those extra festive pounds and donate to World Vision for our Kili cause at the same time, it worked on all fronts. And the boots and gear have just about dried out now.....

Well, a business contact and friend of Mrs M's - Jane Henderson....tiler, Mum, interior designer, cyclist, walker, multitasking all-round superstar - couldn't make the 29th. But she went ahead and got together a huge group of her own friends for a great walk this Sunday just gone.

We kicked off at about 10:30 from Jane's home in sunny Elstead, and walked via Gatwick (hamlet, not airport), Cutmill ponds, The Donkey pub, Tilford village, Hankley and Elstead commons, getting back about 4. I reckon we covered about 8-9 miles at a fairly leisurely but decent pace, and spent a very happy hour or so scoffing huge butties down our deserving gobs at The Donkey.

The weather was beautifully un-January like, the day impeccably organised by Jane, the company very sociable and diverse, and - apart from Simon and me - female. Musician, airline pilot, interior designer, engineer, alternative therapist, juggler....you name it, Jane's Gang had it covered. OK, there wasn't really a juggler, but definitely enough breadth of skill, knowledge and sociability to win a Mastermind-Jeux Sans Frontieres-Countdown team challenge by a distance.

Thanks for a great day, Jane, and for letting Gill, me and our neighbours Simon & Fi gate-crash.

All donations to World Vision would be hugely appreciated as we're running out of time before we head out to Kilimanjaro on February 23rd. Any donations can be made online by clicking the link Sponsor us here on the right hand side.

See a few pics of the day by clicking here.

Feeling ill-prepared...

2007-01-28T17:13:00.000Z

Oh dear, my preparation for this trip has been a bit derailed in the last couple of weeks or so. The combination of a very busy period at work and a bad cold has meant that I've basically been just sleeping or working for about ten days now. Sorting out clothing/equipment/insurance/visas/etc have all had to take a back seat. And training...? What training...?

The spiralling costs have been an additional worry. Yes, the actual price of the trip through Explore was a significant chunk of money in itself, but we all knew about this when we volunteered to sign up. However, at the time, you just don't think about the £38 for your visa, over £100 for vaccinations & malaria tablets, several hundred on clothing to keep you warm at –20C and an outrageous amount if you want to try and arrange some acclimatisation before the trip itself.

While I'm not so poor that this will make me bankrupt, I'm just annoyed with myself that I hadn't thought of all this before. I've got to the stage now where my frame of mind is "Oh what's another fifty quid - it's all so expensive anyway..."

Well, all I can say is that when we get up there, it had all better be worth it! Now where's my Lemsip...

The Kili Schedule

2007-01-26T23:57:00.000Z

4 weeks from now we'll be in the air, zooming towards Kilimanjaro International Airport via Addis Ababa. No doubt we'll be glugging bubbly and gorging unhealthy airline food, safe in the knowledge that nothing we can do in the 48 hours before we start climbing will undo those months of relentless training and monastic self-discipline.

OK, we'll leave the over indulgence until the hotel back in Moshi after summit night. I can taste that first beer already....

A good friend, John Houldsworth (aka Houldsie), asked what our itinerary was so that he could imagine what level of pain we'd be going through on any given day, as he no doubt pulls back the warm duvet and ponders how many golf holes and pints of Guinness he's going to enjoy....

So here it is, Houldsie - I know you'll be there with us in spirit. Right.

Friday 23/02/07: Flight ET701 check in 18:00 Dep LHR 21:00; Arr ADD (Addis Abbaba) 07:20 24/02

Day 1 Saturday 24/02: Flight ET805 Dep ADD 10:15 Arr JRO (Kili airport) 12:40; overnight in Moshi

Day 2 Sunday 25/02: start from Machame Gate (1,900m); 6 hour trek to Machame Camp (3,000m)

Day 3 Monday 26/02: 5-6 hour trek to Shira Camp (3,840m)

Day 4 Tuesday 27/02: 6-7 hour trek to Barranco Camp (3,950m...but only after ascending to Lava Tower at 4.700m!!). Happy Birthday Mrs M

Day 5 Wednesday 28/02: 7-8 hour trek to Barafu Camp (4,600m)

Day 6 Thursday 01/03: The Big One - starting from approx midnight 14+ hours to summit at 5,895m and then descend to Mweka Camp (3,100m)

Day 7 Friday 02/03: 3 hour walk to Mweka Gate (1,700m) and drive back to Moshi

Day 8 Saturday 03/03: free in Moshi or optional tour to Arusha National Park

Day 8 Saturday 03/03: check in 16:30 Flight ET804 Dep JRO 18:30; Arr ADD 20:50

Day 9 Sunday 04/03: Flight ET710 Dep ADD 01:55; Arr LHR 07:15

Sunday 04/03/07: back on terra firma at LHR Terminal 3

Sounds easy, eh? No mention of wet wipes, mosquitoes, AMS, nausea, hypothermia, long drop loos, cerebral & pulmonary oedemas, or Imodium.

Thanks for the support, Houldsie. What tog is your duvet again?

The Final Countdown

2007-01-23T21:21:00.000Z

This is it everyone...1 month today and we fly out to Kili International Airport in Tanzania, via Ethiopia's Addis Ababa.

No turning back now. We've paid the final invoice and the tickets should come through in the next few days. Pricks and layers are being sorted. $ being bought. Treadmills pounded. Brows knitted.

Excited? Nervous? Intrigued? All of the above...with a little dash of outright fear thrown in.

Almost 2 years since the initial idea. Over 1 year in the planning. Just 1 month to go. I wonder if it will live up to expectations...or be Just Another Mountain. Will we be so inspired that we're planning the next adventure before we're even back in Moshi....or thinking Bognor Regis is thrilling enough for future holidays.

Fundraising for World Vision has been tough going. Closing in on £5,000 and it would be great to get to the revised target of £10,000 by the time February 23rd rolls by. Either way, people have been incredibly generous and this level of donations is already significant to the people of Kisiriri in Tanzania, where the average annual income is about £70.

See you at Heathrow a month from now for our Awfully Big Adventure.

Africa...an enigma wrapped up inside a puzzle?

2007-01-20T18:43:00.000Z

5 weeks from today we'll be in Tanzania and ready to get up close and personal with Mount Kilimanjaro. Very close, and very personal.

Unfortunately we won't have time to experience much of the country as we're heading straight back after the climb. If we're still alive. But I've seen a couple of films recently that have made me wonder about the conundrum of Africa, and question whether it will ever really change.

Angola, Uganda, Zimbabwe, Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Namibia, Somalia. Even in my very-nearly-50-year lifetime these are just a few African countries that have experienced war, famine, genocide, revolution, AIDS epidemics, drought....and constant abject poverty for most of its people. And there are other perennial challenges confronting the troubled continent.

In The Constant Gardener, the slums of Nairobi turn out to be the centre of a mystery about a large global company exploiting the hapless diseased occupants for commercial gain. And The Last King of Scotland depicts the story of a naive young British doctor getting caught up in the initial glamour of Idi Amin's 1970s Ugandan regime, before realising that Idi is a corrupt despotic pyscopath who is murdering hundreds of thousands of his countrymen.

Both movies are very entertaining, but make me despair that in reality large parts of Africa will always be corrupt, and that its people will forever be victims spending their short lives in poverty,and abuse of one sort or another.

Bob Geldof has long championed campaigns to alleviate poverty throughout the world, and Africa in particular. But will anything really ever change in Africa? Our hearts are in the right place in trying to raise a few pounds for World Vision to go to the Kisiriri community in Tanzania. Hopefully we'll be able to help them with a fresh drinking water supply, or some education facilities, or something that might allow them to be a little more independent. But I fear that all we can ever do is just scratch the African surface.

I don't have any answers...just despair that people will always be flying in to do business with corrupt governments, or for safaris or to climb a mountain, dispensing a few dollars and buggering off again while poverty, natural and man-made disasters continue to blight large swathes of this puzzling continent.

A Real Adventurer

2007-01-13T20:14:00.000Z

We've been planning our imminent assault on Kilimanjaro for nearly a year now. Thinking about training (and sometimes even actually doing some training), logistics, fundraising, innoculations, multiple layers to wear on summit night. Whether to take Diamox to ward off the dreaded AMS, or not. How many clean pairs of Y-fronts to take. You get the drift.

I wouldn't say it's taken over my life, but it's certainly been hovering somewhere around Cranium Central for quite a while now.

Compare this level of mental and physical preparation with our friend Sam Atcherley-Key, who we found out just the other day had climbed Kili back in 1960, when in Africa as a flyer:

In February 1960 I was working in Nairobi. Three of us were told it took 5 days to climb Kilimanjaro so we took Friday off and decided to do it in 3. Living at 2,000m for a year helped, I guess. We went Kibo, Peter's (huts, I think) and up the scree. Much trouble with hypoxia. The scree was a brute, 5 paces up, 2 back and rest. Started at 2 am to get to the top for the sunrise. Definitely worth it.

On the way down the porters picked us "everlasting flowers". Mine have just got back up on the wall in their little frame (Sam - at 72 - and Annie have just relocated to France from Yorkshire, taking on a huge property challenge). The yellows are quite striking 46 years on.

I wore a pair of my Uncle's old shoes, the sole came off on the way back in the trees just above Arusha...or was it Moshi?

There's a foothill called Monduli. A few months later I found a crashed aircraft on the very top and some folk around it, still alive. Landed the Sea Prince (I'd been down to Mombasa for the weekly fish run) and joined a police team to go up and collect them. Got charged by a buffalo which ripped the guts out of a hapless local policeman. Helped carry one casualty down who had an eye hanging out. I had a close-up view of it for rather a long time!

Sounds like something from a Graham Greene novel, or a Humphrey Bogart film, doesn't it? Completely spontaneous stroll up Kili one spare weekend in his Uncle's shoes. Amazing.

I hope you don't mind me sharing your letter with the online world, Sam, but apart from admiring your adventurous spirit and joie-de-vivre, it strikes me that this is a microcosm of how different life is now compared with back then. People plan things much more these days, eliminate risk, take out insurance, train and see physiotherapists, buy Chris Brasher's boots rather than borrow Uncle's.

Or is just me? Perhaps I'm a cossetted contemporary Southern softie, pampered by the luxuries of modern life and, on the cusp of 50, unable to embrace the spirit of Real Adventure.

If I have a fraction of your Action Man effervescence and spirit in 20 years time, Sam, I'll be very happy. And thanks for a glimpse into a bygone world without rules and rigid structure at every turn.

Now where's that insurance policy....

Soggy Sponsored Surrey Stroll

2006-12-30T17:42:00.000Z

Thanks to everyone who braved the angry elements to take part in the sponsored walk yesterday. 10'ish very wet and muddy miles from Godalming to Hascombe and back, via Thorncombe Street, in aid of World Vision.

We had a welcome baguette-and-chips break at The White Horse in Hascombe, otherwise it was a pretty grim struggle against incessant rain and festive excesses.

Helen & Malcolm, together with a sodden and stiled-out Corker, have already made a very generous donation, as have North Minster neighbours The Wares. Simon, Fi and Duncan walked; Jamie worked but still gave up even more of his hard earned cash; Fi's fair-weather sister Alison bailed out of the walk, made it to the pub...but still kindly donated to the World Vision cause.

Hopefully others will lodge any donations online through this link. In any event thanks also to Frances, David & Theresa, all the Ryan clan, Phil & Mike, and of course Neph#1 Steve for Doing The Walk.

And thanks also to Mrs M for another excellently designed and paced route. Definitely a would-be cartographer.

I've got a confession to make...

2006-12-29T14:12:00.000Z

I only told my mum that we're climbing Kili a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't that I was deliberately keeping it a secret, but somehow I just kept forgetting to mention it whenever we talked on the phone. I suppose life just kept getting in the way...

Anyway, her first reaction was fairly relaxed, as she knows that we're into climbing and outdoors-y stuff, so this was just a bit of an adventure type holiday in her view. However, she's now come to realise that we'll be spending some time in sub-Saharan Africa, and as a doctor, she is now incredibly worried about the various horrible diseases that we can catch while we're out there.

Part of our Boxing Day get-together was spent going through one of her numerous medical books, reading through the many symptoms of malaria, yellow fever, typhoid, etc... Worryingly, common symptoms included tiredness and irritability, which I'm sure we'll all be exhibiting during the night ascent!

Mum's now e-mailed me with a few links to websites, and this MDTravel Health page is actually quite useful, so I thought I'd share it with everyone. It provides a good summary of the relevant diseases and vaccinations available, likely side-effects, etc.

I've now been scared into booking my consultation with the travel specialist at our GP's surgery. Appointment coming up on the 10th of Jan. Eeek!

Ding ding.....2 month warning bell

2006-12-23T16:54:00.000Z

Festive greetings to The Kili 6....and as we stuff our faces with that 16th mince pie and 2nd litre of sherry, ponder this: 2 months from today (assuming it's fog-free) we'll be jetting off to Tanzania to do battle with Mount Kilimanjaro.

I've decided on my festive strategy. Normal over-indulgence for 2-3 days (or maybe 23 days?) will add several kilos of excess baggage, then from January 1st it's SERIOUS detox and exercise to be the fittest I'll have been in the last 20 years. Ready for everything the mountain can throw at us...and just hopeful that the dreaded Altitude Sickness doesn't undo all that preparation and peak ambition.

Sponsored walk in Godalming on 29th December, daily hypoxic chamber sessions at the third space in the New Year, and a fundraising 5-a-side footie-fest in late January or early February (watch this space for more info) - that, a few pricks, a flowing urinary tract and a following wind, and I'll trust all else to nature and The Big Man Upstairs.

Happy Christmas everyone and I think we all know it's going to be a very special start to 2007.

8 Foolish Tips For Kili!...And Other Stories

2006-12-14T12:53:00.001Z

One of my physiotherapists has climbed Kilimanjaro before, so she gave me six tips. I've picked up a couple more too. So, in true Foolish style, here they are:

Make sure your platypus has an insulated drinking tube. Most people in my physio's troupe didn't have this, so the tube froze. It's not pleasant having to stop and take your water out of your bag all the time!
She reiterated Gill's earlier advice about taking the herb gingko biloba for altitude.
She said take zinc-oxide tape (it's like very strong plasters). Apparently even compeed after a few days can get worn down/off when walking up and down, so this stuff will hold it on. I'll be bringing some for my knee anyway, so you could always steal some off me if necessary.
On the last day, don't forget to put sun cream on your face and to leave the bottle in your bag. It may be freezing, but if you don't you'll be dreadfully sunburned!
"If you think you've got too many clothes, you're wrong!" she said. It's freezing!
She also recommended that you get the prescription drug Diamox (also known as acetazolamide) for altitude sickness. This was backed up by Fool UK co-founder Dr. David Berger when I spoke with him at (former Fool MD) Bruce's leaving-do. He said: "If I was climbing Kili, I'd take it."
So I need to go to the docs for this drug, but I also need to get my vaccines. Problem is, my surgery has always been unreliable and it's now told me that I can't get Hep A, tetanus and polio jabs for free, which many NHS surgeries will do. So I'm going to try and find a new surgery this afternoon, as it could save me about £100.
My mum (a veteran traveller/walker) said that she soaks her sleeping bag and outside socks with insect-repellant before she leaves. (The spray has to be suitable for fabrics.) By 3,500 metres (or was it feet? I can't remember...) we shouldn't have trouble with insects, but there's always the jungle to walk through...

That wasn't a slip of the keyboard in the first paragraph. I did mean to say "one of my physiotherapists". I've been seeing a physio at my gym about my knee for the past month or so, but I wanted a second opinion, which I have got through the NHS. Unfortunately, the second opinion is different from the first! They both think it's my knee cap, but one thinks it's sliding to the right and the other thinks it's just a bit lose on the left-hand side. They have given me different instructions in how I should tape my knee up and they both want me to strengthen and stretch different muscles - in fact, the opposite ones.

So dilemma. Who do I believe? Neither inspires that trust that you hope for in medical professionals, but which is rarely found. They both seem fairly competent...They're OK I think, but young and not massively experienced. Neither sticks out above the other. So I'm researching on the Internet. I can't believe that you need six years of study before you can diagnose a knee injury. I'm also going to try out the second physios methods for a bit longer to see how they compare with the first's. If I'm still not happy, I'll have to get a third opinion. Damn it!

Now: sponsorship. I thought it would be a good idea if I speak with our sales team at work to see if any of our partners would be willing to sponsor us. There are some big names, many of them banks, which usually have hefty philanthropy budgets in order to convince people they're not all that nasty after all. This sort of thing may be right up their street.

I also thought of doing a bring-and-buy sale of CDs. Get everyone at work to bring in the CDs they don't want and they can buy what they want for a fiver. I'm going to try to convince someone at my last company to do the same for me, as it has 140 employees. Any CDs not sold I could sell on eBay. I'll look into all this on Monday.

Kili climbers - do any of you play chess? Is it worth me bringing a miniature chess set with me?

Now, I haven't commented on any of your last posts for ages, so here goes:

Andy quoted guidance from Explore! "Sleeping mat: an inflatable thermarest style mat is essential in order to help you get a good night's rest." As I recall, Jon seemed less than convinced about thermarest mats when we did our walk in Surrey, but I think they do a good job at making you more comfortable. Also, they help to keep you warm apparently, so I'm definitely taking mine.

Andy also said: "Sleeping aids: you may find ear plugs and an eye mask useful at night (in case the neighbours are throwing a really noisy party)." It'll probably be Andy and Gill throwing the party. You know how they can talk! So Eszter, Steve and Jon, we should all seriously consider the ear plugs. Although neither of them are unkind on the eyes, so we could give the eye masks a miss, unless we're feeling unkind.

Eszter: "What do you mean no need for the blusher and the mascara?! You know I always need to look my best, and that's going to be hard enough at 4am, when we've been climbing upwards for three hours in the dark and cold, and the summit is still many hours away!" I agree, I don't go anywhere without my blusher and mascara.

Moonlight

2006-12-06T09:34:00.000Z

Just a quick post to mention something I realised last night.

After cycling home, I need to go through the garden and lock up my bike in the shed. Normally, Jon puts the outside light on for me, as it's dark by the time I get home. Without the light, I'm always worried about stumbling over pots/steps/our mini-greenhouse, which gets blown over by strong winds, etc, especially now that the garden is all muddy and slippery.

Jon was away last night, so I didn't have anyone to put on the outside light for me. However, it was more or less a full moon on a clear night, which meant that I was able to see my way through the garden very clearly. It made me think that I'm really pleased that we're going to climb Kili close to a full moon, because having the moonlight makes such a difference. It would be so demoralising to have to walk in pitch black - it'll be bad enough as it is!

Actually, it's funny that pretty much everywhere I look and everything I do reminds me of Kili now - even locking up my bike in the shed! I guess it goes to show that it's always in the back of my mind, and I'm preparing myself for it psychologically. That reminds me… I need to prepare for it financially too…. Must remember to pay up soon...

Moving the fundraising goalposts

2006-12-02T02:35:00.000Z

I suppose I should be used to missing the target, having been a Tottenham supporter for 40+ years. But it's still painful to accept the reality that we're running out of time to hit the optimistic target of raising £25,000 for World Vision, considering we fly out to face Kilimanjaro on 23rd February, 2007.

I was getting very excited a couple of weeks ago when we were nominated for The Motley Fool's Foolanthropy charity drive this year. This fantastic initiative has raised $2.5m over 10 years and the target for the successful 5 charities this year is an amazing $280,000. If World Vision had been one of the 5 I think we could have got to the £25,000. Sadly, it wasn't to be.

We're at £3,400. Not bad, especially as this WILL make a huge difference to the Kisiriri community in Tanzania, where the average annual income is $140. And we're planning a 10 mile sponsored stroll from Godalming on 29th December, to walk off some of the festive excesses. The idea is that at least 10 people each get 10 people to sponsor them £10 - hey presto: £1,000 for World Vision. More to come on the walk in a separate article later.

And with the trek now a frighteningly close reality, we can go back with the begging bowl to everyone we spoke to a year ago when the Kili50 project was first a nagging sore in my ageing addled mind.

We've climbed Holloway Hill 50 times, had a car boot sale in 90 degree heat, been overwhelmed by Simon & Christine Hurst's generosity on their 25th wedding anniversary, cleaned out Jimbo & Marianne Illsley's garage (toys still to find a way to the market)....at the same time as working, training and living.

But no excuses. It's looking like a not-so-glorious failure, for which I feel very guilty. We spoke with World Vision at the start of this idea and they gave us a load of support because £25,000 would allow them to really make a massive difference to their Kisiriri Area Development Programme.

So with a heavy heart and broad shoulders to carry the goalposts I'm officially slashing the fundraising target to £10,000. Still a long way to go, but hopefully still challenging and achievable, as my American masters would say. Come on everyone, please put your brains in gear and your hands in your pockets - ideas and contributions very welcome (via the sponsor us now link here and on the right hand side).

Preparation Progress Report

2006-11-26T21:05:00.000Z

In preparation for the imminent Kili trip, I decided to do some Christmas shopping in London on Saturday. (Un)fortunately, all the presents were for myself, and I just didn't have enough time to buy the other very thoughtful presents for my family and friends. I may need to organise another trip up to London...

Anyway, I am now considerably poorer, but have some excellent stuff – merino wool base layer, a little blue micro-fleece, very warm gloves and a big waterproof, windproof and breathable jacket. I also saw a sleeping bag which I decided not to get at the time, but having thought about it some more, I think I'll get that too.

I can thoroughly recommend the Mountain Warehouse just south of Covent Garden, which is having a clearance sale, so there is some really good stuff for very low prices.

I still need to sort out warm trousers, a headtorch and some sort of sunglasses that I can wear over my normal glasses (don't think I could fiddle with contacts in the middle of a freezing cold night), but otherwise, I'm nearly there. (I'm also probably going to give these... a miss.)

Jon and I have also been pretty good at focusing on the fitness side of things the past few months, so, despite the short timescale, I'm feeling pretty optimistic. We've even raised the crazy idea of getting up at 2am one night and going out for a long run, just to see how bloody awful it's going to be! Funnily enough, that keeps being put off till next time...

Ding ding - 3 month warning bell part 2

2006-11-22T23:08:00.000Z

Part 2: 3 months less 2 days until departure date for our Kili adventure. See part 1 for a detailed summary of the clothing and footwear we'll need to take. This is a summary of some of the other stuff we need to think about, taken again from Explore's dossier:

Trek kit bag: ex-army type can be obtained cheaply. Nylon or canvas bag with a zip along the top is also suitable. Whatever you choose, it must be strong and waterproof, as porters are not very gentle with baggage. Soft luggage is essential as framed rucksacks are unsuitable. The weight limit for the bag AND its contents is 15kg but you'll probably find that you don't need this much.

Small rucksack/day bag: during the course of a trekking day, you don't have access to the luggage that is being carried for you by the porters. In any mountain region the weather can change rapidly and you must be equipped for this eventuality. Your daysack should therefore be large enough to carry the following: waterproofs, fleece, long trekking trousers (if walking in shorts), warm hat and gloves, sun hat, sun cream, water bottle (at least 3 litres), tissues, kitchen sink, make up and your pack lunch. Most people usually find this adds up to 3-5kg. Camera equipment can be heavy so think carefully when deciding what to take. Remember to carry spare film during the day. It is usually more comfortable to carry a slightly larger pack that is not full, than to carry a small pack that is overfull with stuff tied on the outside. Something between 25 and 35 litres capacity is probably the most suitable. A shoulder bag is not a practical alternative. Nor is a carrier bag, Steve.

Heavy duty plastic bags: to pack your gear in, inside your kit bag, to stay dry in case of rain. Also, it will be easier for you to sort through. Remember...the less you have to unpack in the evening the less you have to repack each morning! One of these bags to use inside your day pack is also strongly recommended.

Sleeping bag: as you don't carry it yourself, this may be down or synthetic, but it must be a 4-season comfort rating (temperature -10C to -5C). A silk or fleece liner helps to keep your bag clean and adds an extra season. (Hmm..I didn;t know there were 5 seasons but I suspect we'll learn a lot of new things on this trip).

Sleeping mat: an inflatable thermarest style mat is essential in order to help you get a good night's rest.

Sleeping aids: you may find ear plugs and an eye mask useful at night (in case the neighbours are throwing a really noisy party).

Trekking poles: strongly recommended and can usually be hired in Moshi, at US$6 per pair. Or take your own (there are loads of Poles in England at the moment).

Water bottle or platypus/Camelbak hydration system: water along the trail must never be considered as drinkable until purified. Take at least two 2-litre personal water bottles or a system that allows for this much water, perferably insulated. A personal supply of iodine tablets/drops is essential. Powdered fruit juice can be used to disguise the taste. Energy snacks, including chocolate and sweets, are also recommended whilst on trek (don't forget the chocolate hobnobs to have with our elevenses, Mrs M).

Sunglasses/snow goggles: a good pair of sunglasses/snow goggles are essential for protection against UV rays and glare at high altitudes.

Sun hat/high factor sun cream/block and lip salve: choose a high factor suncream (factor 30 or more) to protect skin against sun at high altitudes. A combination sunblock/lip salve is ideal for facial protection.

Torch/batteries/bulb: a head torch is essential for finding things at night (now then....where did I leave my inspiration?) and finding your way on summit night. Remember to bring spare batteries and bulb.

Toiletries: keep heavy cosmetics to a minimum (probably no need for blusher & mascara, ladies). Essentials are toothbrush/toothpaste, soap, small towel & small nail brush (??). "Wet wipes" are great for a quick clean up, so bring a pack of those (non-perfumed to avoid rashes).

Personal first aid kit: on each trek a first aid kit is carried but you should have your own blister kit, plaster supply, aspirins & other essentials. Please do not give medicines to local people without consulting the tour leader.

So not much to think about then. All this stuff to buy or rent, as well as layers and pricks, fitness, fundraising for World Vision...and saving for the trek (balance due at the end of December, team, and then the US$ cash to take to Kili for the local payment to porters, guides, drugs, alcohol etc.). Just as well then that there are no distractions like work. Or Christmas.....

Ding ding.....3 month warning bell

2006-11-20T22:07:00.000Z

3 months from today we'll be flying out to do battle with Kilimanjaro. That's scarily close and what seemed like loads of time to get fit, raise money, buy kit and steel nerves has already disappeared more quickly than Ian Dowie from Charlton....or England's chances of keeping hold of the Ashes.

Apart from layers and pricks, what have we got to organize in the way of kit and logistics to try and make sure that we come back in one piece....?

According to our tour leaders from Explore:

Part 1 - clothing & footwear:

Walking boots: we strongly recommend walking in good boots. Trainers, tennis shoes or similar do not give the ankle support needed. Many people now trek in lighter weight Goretex or leather boots. Avoid the type of boot often found in high street shoe shops that are simply cheap trainers with a higher canvas side sewn on - they give little support (like Man United fans feasting on prawn sandwiches) and will probably not last the trek. It's a good idea to carry your boots in your hand luggage (terrorist restrictions permitting) on international flights or wear them - should your luggage be delayed, your well broken in boots are irreplaceable. Gaiters are useful to keep snow and scree out of your boots.

Trainers or trekking sandals: useful around camp, in towns and when travelling. But they afford little protection from stubbing of toes when walking around rock-strewn campsites at night.

Socks: best to wear a pair of liner socks under a pair of fairly thick loop stitch socks. This helps to protect against blisters. Avoid nylon socks...they are abrasive, don't breathe well and can cause blisters.

Jacket: after sunset, temperatures can fall below freezing. A very warm jacket is the most convenient way of keeping warm when the temperature plummets.

Waterproofs: breathable jacket and trouser-type waterproofs made from material like Goretex not only protects against rain and wind, but also stops you from overheating. They breathe and avoid condensation that you'll get from nylon waterproofs.

Long trousers: light trekking trousers are best for everyday walking. Avoid jeans...cumbersome when wet!

Thick sweaters & fleece jackets: essential for very cold nights at altitude. Make sure your waterproof jacket is loose enough to wear over your sweater and/or (5) fleeces.

Thermal underwear: long sleeve tops and (sexy) "long john" legging thermal underwear is essential.

Shorts: can be very comfortable to walk in but you must carry long trousers with you in case of sunburn or cold.

Waterproof gloves, a warm scarf and a warm hat: especially useful in the mornings and evenings at higher altitudes and essential for summit night. Lightweight gloves or mittens are not practical. Also, bring a scarf to cover your neck and a warm hat/balaclava.

But don't wear this on the plane, otherwise all our kit will rot at the same time as we do, locked up in an African prison.

Layers and pricks

2006-11-19T13:26:00.000Z

Just 3 months to go from this Thursday, everyone. I'm beginning to realise how much we need to think about between now and 23rd February. As if the fitness, cash and fear weren't enough to concentrate on, there's all the logistics to take into account.

Layers. On summit night alone Explore advise 8 - yes, eight - layers of clothing:

Climbing Kilimanjaro is the equivalent of trekking from the Equator to the Pole. It is essential that you have the proper equipment and clothing to ensure that you enjoy the trek and also give yourself the very best chances of reaching Uhuru Peak. After many years of trekking and reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro, we strongly recommend that you should wear the following for your summit night: Torso: you should have 8 layers of clothing covering your chest. Starting from base layer to outer shell, you should wear a long sleeve thermal underwear layer, a comfortable long sleeve shirt, a jersey, a thin fleece, a thicker fleece, and a thick waterproof and windproof outer shell that may contain a fleece lining. Yikes...I won't have been fleeced like this since being on the poker tables in Las Vegas.

Your legs: you should wear 3 layers of clothing covering your legs. Starting from your base layer to the outer layer, you should wear "long john" thermal underwear, light trekking trousers and a waterproof and windproof outer shell.

Your extremities: your head must be covered by a warm hat or balaclava and your neck should be covered by a scarf. Your hands must be covered with thick waterproof and windproof gloves. You must have thick warm socks for summit night.

Just as well we're expected to walk slowly...this is going like to be the Michelin man attempting the climbing wall on Jeux Sans Frontieres.

And then there's the pricks. We strongly recommend protection against malaria, hepatitis A, tetanus, typhoid, polio and yellow fever. Travellers may also wish to take immunisation against meningococcal meningitis.

I'll write again on Thursday about the rest of the stuff we've got to think about and organize...and. oh yes, we've got to work and live as usual too. Remind me again why we're doing this crazy thing......

Salmagundi

2006-11-04T07:36:00.000Z

Salmagundi - good word, eh? I might just as easily have called this rambling article miscellanea, potpourri or a smorgasbord of information...but salmagundi is so much tastier, don't you think?

sal·ma·gun·di (slm-gnd)
n. pl. sal·ma·gun·dis
1. A salad of chopped meat, anchovies, eggs, and onions, often arranged in rows on lettuce and served with vinegar and oil.
2. A mixture or assortment; a potpourri.

[French salmigondis, probably from : Old French salemine, salted food (from Vulgar Latin *salmen; see salami) + Old French condir, to season (from Latin condre; see condiment).]

Anyway, what the hell am I on about? I just wanted to disseminate a few titbits of Kili information....

Fitness. Disaster. Since that challenging (ie knackering) weekend, Jon & Mrs M have both been struck down by a virulent virus (they're not blaming Esther as the carrier at all, really); Steve's ankle and Neil's knee are both giving cause for concern, with differing responses from their owners (one is being proactive, the other is thinking about doing something constructive....). Esther and I are fine thanks.
Hypoxic Heaven. Steve made it up to see Richard at The Altitude Centre for his hypoxic assessment and AMS susceptibility test (not complete mumbo jumbo...see this earlier article for a translation). Steve came out of it OK: he took longer than his old Uncle to adapt to, and then recover from, the rarefied oxygen level at a simulated 4,000 metres, but his breath-holding capacity was much better. The altitude sickness susceptibility was inconclusive, he came out right in the middle of the results band, meaning he may or may not suffer from the dreaded AMS. Steve assures me he found it a very worthwhile exercise, though the evening took a downward lurch for him after being soundly thrashed on The Motley Fool's foosball table. Several times.
the third space. I've just joined this achingly cool gym near our new office in Soho. All glass and mirrors (but definitely no smoke). In-house DJ on the decks. Foos table in amongst the iron-pumping equipment. More classes than primary school. Direct access to Fresh & Wild. And best of all...it has a hypoxic chamber so I can work out at a simulated 8,500 feet over the final 4 months until Kili. No excuse now not be ultra fit and altitude-ready by February.
Rookery Nook.

We told you Chris & Jill's B&B in Shere was an oasis of charm and hospitality in the Surrey Hills.....well, Gill & I went back last night for a very relaxed and enjoyable supper with them. Chris & Jill were even more laid back than before, the house and village even more serene, their hospitality truly welcoming and greatly appreciated. They seem to have found a great work/life balance. Many thanks to both of them, and you've still got more than 3 months to train for Kili, Jill....
Fundraising. A few colleagues at The Motley Fool made generous personal donations to World Vision after I sent out a spam email this week, so the cumulative total is up to a very healthy £3,300. A long way short of the £25,000 target so it's all hands to the pump. A lot of hope is now resting on The Motley Fool's famous Foolanthropy annual charity drive in the US. Claiming to be the longest running charity raising initiative on the internet, Foolanthropy has raised a whopping $2.5m over the last 10 years for many deserving causes. From the many nominations the Committee select 5 charities each year that best meet the criteria laid out. The successful 5 then benefit over the festive season in a variety of ways. We've posted a nomination for World Vision on the Foolanthropy discussion board here. I genuinely believe that World Vision would be a worthy recipient and really hope that it is one of the 5 selected this year. Regardless of whether it is or not, and I'm aware of how cheesy this will sound, Foolanthropy makes me realise how lucky I am to work for a company that cares so passionately about others and really makes a difference. And whether the Kili50 fund ends up raising £5,000 or £25,000 for the Kisiriri community in Tanzania, it's worth recalling that the average annual income there is US$140 so either amount is significant. Peter Halewood from World Vision has reconfirmed this week that 97% of any funds contributed will go direct to Kisiriri, and also that the most pressing need at the moment is for a clean drinking water supply. And here I am, worried about whether to have a curry or fish and chips tonight...and whether Spurs can beat Chelsea tomorrow for the first time since 1990 .

I've rambled on aplenty. Perhaps it's time for salmagundi and chips.....that would make a nice change.

Champagne Moments

2006-10-23T17:40:00.000+01:00

One thing the Kili 6 learned recently was that you've got to set expectations correctly. So this is just a quick blog. Five minutes to read, max...

So we walked in the Surrey hills, the Kili Six of us. 40-odd miles from Friday afternoon to early afternoon on Sunday. Two good days walking. And we had a lot of fun, although poor Steve was injured, so he suffered somewhat towards the end.

This was the first time I'd met half the group. Thankfully we all got on. It's good to know, because otherwise it could have been a long trip up Kili (or a swift tumble down, depending on how badly we failed to hit it off).

I got on with Eszter despite accidentally mocking her (whilst simultaneously making an appalling maths error. Not good for a personal finance writer. Don't tell my boss!) Anyway, it's not my fault Eszter; it's because I'm weirdly focused. Ask Andy and Jon. Besides, you got off lightly: I intentionally mocked everyone else. Haha!

Clock check: just another twenty minutes to go in this blog.

So how did we do? The Martinet* proved his fitness, didn't he? Nearly fifty, but like a gazelle. Something for the rest of us to aspire to. Gill sprinted most of the way.

Steve clearly has a natural fitness that helped him through a lack of training. (Just four months to go Steve!) It was just the unfortunate injury that slowed him.

Jon and Eszter have the stoic walk of experienced hikers the world over: a pace that can be kept up hour after hour, footpath (FP) after bridleway. Plus, like James Bond taking off his wet suit to reveal a tuxedo underneath (I can't remember which film), they came prepared for all occasions with extra clothes and smart shoes. Very stylish...I just feel sorry for the Tanzanian porters.

Just an hour's more reading and we're there.

I did well too, but my training's taken a sudden turn for the worse as I've injured my knee. I had a similar injury years ago, caused, possibly, by too many stupid stunts that I shouldn't admit to.

It's an injury that may take some work, but I feel more positive about it than six days ago when it emerged. Rest seems to do it good, so I'm not going to move for a week and see what happens. Plus I've got medical people all over the place: my GP and BUPA, plus a GP, acupuncturist and physiotherapist at my gym, so I've got it covered. I AM CLIMBING KILI!

Andy, you asked what my 'champagne moment' was for the walking weekend. Well, I'm no good at those sorts of happy memories questions. My mind doesn't work like that. Still, I can now identify one. My champagne moment was when I got home (bare with me) and I was trying to sleep, but my mind was buzzing without my consent for about an hour. I went along for the ride. It took me through fantastic green valleys and past gorgeous slow streams. It sifted through images of unself-conscious deer, myriad horses and beautiful vistas. I recalled the tingle of expectation at the beginning of every day. This mingled with the joy and camaraderie of the walk and the satisfied feeling when we arrived back in Godalming. Basically, it was the realisation that the weekend couldn't have been any better. That was my champagne moment.***

Thanks for being there guys; it was great fun.

---

By the way, there was some partner-swapping going on, I understand, at the second B&B we stayed in, but I still ended up with Steve again! What the fetlocks was that all about? It's symptomatic of what's wrong with this country today...

---

Footnotes

*That's Andy to non-Kili 6ers...We picked up a few in-jokes at the weekend and this blog is littered with them. You see, I'm talking rubbish. This is a rubbish blog. Get it?**

**Sorry, I was speaking in Kuoatian. I don't want these play on words to go to waste.

***Who was it who said we get poetic as we get older? I must have aged a lot on that walk. Ha!

Shere delight in the Surrey Hills

2006-10-15T21:28:00.000+01:00

The Kili 6 have just returned from an epic training weekend in the Surrey Hills. 40+ miles of glorious gruelling yomping from our Godalming doorstep on Friday lunchtime to a footsore, but elated, return this afternoon, via Shamley Green, Shere and every hill and village in between.

Hopefully everyone will contribute their own words, photos and thoughts but here are my immediate stream-of-consciousness scribblings, before the effects of exhaustion and age really kick in for the night....

Expertly planned by Mrs M, the route was a wonderful assortment of terrain - ancient woodland, open farmland, rolling hills, sandy heathland, idyllic villages, rambling estates, chocolate box cottages and welcoming hostelries - that should have appealed to everyone.

Champagne moment? The village of Shere, the Rookery Nook B&B and the generosity of its owners, Chris & Jill Capstick. OK, so that's sort of 3 bubbly moments, but it was an intoxicating place. Their home is delightful and you can imagine what sort of people Chris & Jill are, simply by the fact that they knocked quite a few quid off the bill this morning to donate to the World Vision cause being espoused by the Kili50 escapade. I can't recommend this haven of tranquillity, and their hospitality and kindness, highly enough - go....and go soon, before the tourist hordes descend on the village when the movie The Holiday is released in the next few weeks.

Brown ale moment? The mildew-ridden cobweb-shrouded pygmy-sized bathroom at a certain tavern in the middle of Shamley Green. Or Steve's snoring after yet another hamburger fest...and he wasn't even in the same room.

Lots more thoughts and awards to follow after a good night's kip....as long as I don't dream of Emma's ghost at The White Horse in Shere, Jeff The Chef's baked bean mountain in Shamley Green, or Jon's punitive punning punditry.

Thanks to the rest of the The Kili 6 gang - Mrs M, Steve, Esther, Jon & Neil for a truly rewarding training trip in the Surrey Hills. Only 4 months to go to The Real Thing...think we're going to make it?

The Killing Hills

2006-10-08T22:10:00.000+01:00

Not in Esther's fantastic 1/2 marathon league, but I managed a 10k today. My first organized run for more than 20 years, so not quite the suppleness or speed that I had last time out....but I made it to the finishing line at least.

It was on behalf of Cancer Research in the beautiful Loseley Park 'twixt Godalming and Guildford. I was on the brink of backing out due to a dodgy knee having curtailed any training for a couple of weeks, and being without a running partner after Jimbo Illsley, who had kindly volunteered us both for the race, succumbed to a mysterious hip injury. But I strapped on a knee support, bit the bullet and went for it, with Mrs M's moral support spurring me on.

The whole event was superbly organized, including a synchronized pre-race warm up for the 600+ runners, more marshalls than Dodge City and an uplifting band at the halfway water stop.

The course was a combination of fields, pasture, woodland and bridle paths. The bad news was the three hills on the course, especially the last...a long gradual bridle path of sapping sand. Nasty.

I crossed the line at 54 minutes, not too shabby for an untrained 49 year old with a suspect knee, on a tough undulating course and who was peeing in the bushes when the starting gun went off, eh?

The nutty cereal bar and bottle of water did more to restore my sagging energy levels than the medal handed out after breasting the finishing line, but all in all it was a great experience for a great cause.

And another step on the Kili fitness trail, although just a loosener for next weekend's 40+ mile walk around the Surrey Hills for the Kili 6 being deviously plotted by Mrs M as we speak.

See you on Friday, team...and don't forget the ralgex, surgical supports, Diamox and beer money.

Postscript: Jimbo Illsley was spotted this very afternoon exercising his aforesaid dodgy hip by bouncing aggressively on a huge trampoline with his two young sons. A recovery more miraculous than Lazarus....

Switzerland's Scary Snowy Sefinenfurke

2006-10-02T21:34:00.000+01:00

We'd snacked on the French hors d'oeuvres and already covered some serious ground in the majestic Bernese Oberland in Switzerland, but the real challenge was only just beginning.

We were mid-way through another wonderful Inntravel holiday, yomping from one small friendly hotel to another with only each other, a rucksack and the mountains for company each day as our luggage sped its way with impeccable Swiss timing to the next night's resting place .

The week had started in Grindelwald, from where we had already done the famous First-Bachalpsee-Faulhorn-Manndlenen-Schynige Platte walk in terrible weather, before moving high above the Grindelwald valley to confront the north face of the Eiger and nod at the Monch and Jungfrau peaks. That epic day had ended in Wengen before hopping over the Lauterbrunnen-Stechelberg valley to Murren at about 1,700m.

We had supper with our fellow Inntravellers (Roger & Kay; Bill & Jo; Matthew & Charlotte) at the charming Hotel Bellevue. Apparently it has fantastic views but it withheld them selfishly from us.

We'd walked independently to this point but the imminent challenges threw a cloak of embattled camaraderie over us all as we devoured the pumpkin soup and wild boar stew together, just before going over the top to face the enemy.

The rain hammered down all night. Well, at least until 4 am. I know because I was awake most of the time.. Not worried, but excited about what lay ahead...a very tough couple of days according to the Inntravel notes.

We all got up early for a hearty Alpine breakfast in an I may be gone some time sort of atmosphere. Inntravel say don't attempt today's high level walk unless in good weather - 6-7 hours via the Sefinenfurke Pass at 2,612m into the Griesalp/Kiental valley. The heavy rain of the last 24 hours has become snow almost down the village, and there is real doubt about whether we should attempt the walk. Our minds are made up by a slightly improved forecast, and a united reluctance to trek all the way around to the other valley by public transport. The desire to arrive triumphantly on foot at the Berghaus Golderli is irresistible, if a little foolhardy.

The Inntravel 8 all set off at slightly different times but with the mindset of turning back if it all begins to look a little too risky. I have to make an emergency purchase of decent gloves to go with my wooly hat from yesterday...in my defence, it is still August.

About an hour out of Murren Mrs M & I are spiralling sharply upwards, zig-zagging a slippery rocky path in increasingly deep snow. We've passed Jo & Bill by now and catch glimpses of the Pathfinder 4 on zigs or zags further up the walnut whip of a mountain. We soon meet a couple of shy Americans heading towards us, claiming to have turned back from the Rotstockhutte further ahead, citing the pass as a challenge too far in these conditions. We press on and at about 11 am meet the others at the hut, a great mountain refuge at 2,039m and open for 4 months of the year. It's manned in splendid isolation by a former top restaurant chef, helicoptering in supplies, baking his own bread, serving up seductive home-made veggie soup and advising in thinly veiled code that the pass is probably a bit dodgy for some of us.

Roger & Kay, our fearless front-runners, strike out to see how far they can get. Refuelled Matthew & Charlotte follow shortly afterwards, then Mrs M & I tentatively pursue their deep footprints, just after Jo & Bill have Hit The Hut. We've resisted the veggie soup - just - but succumbed to comforting hot chocolates, mine with a large slug of rum to ward off any hovering hesitation.

The next few hours involve a long tough trudge and 600m ascent up the valley towards the dreaded pass, exacerbated by dropping too far down at one stage thanks to misleading cowprints, we're told later. Bells.

The weather is showing distinct, but delayed, signs of improvement as we track the progress of the Front Four up the final 100m of disconcertingly steep scree slope. As we reach this daunting denouement the sun is alive and well and beating hard. The snow is melting on top of the slippery scree so that the occasional foot placement ends up nearly back where you started from. Or worse. And it is quite steep, trust me. Mrs M is struggling and it's only the dizzying view of the Fearless Four tucking into their packed lunches way above us on the narrow ridge of the pass that keeps us going.

We finally make it, bathed in sweat and brief sunlight...but just as we prepare to tuck into our deserved spoils and admire the supposedly fantastic views on the scarily vertiginous ridge of the Sefinenfurke Pass, so the scene director from The Truman Show yells cue the cloud. Within a minute we're perched right on the very fragile and very narrow ridge of a scarily high pass, wrapped in clouds and surrounded by ice, snow and slush.

Lunch can wait.

All we can do is hold on really tight to the slack rope anchored to the other side of the mountain, and grope our way down the steep steps carved into the precipice. Easy. We slither down, more often on arse and knees than foot, without looking backwards to what are probably some Very Steep Drops.

10 minutes later the director yells cue the sun and we're able to glimpse back upwards to the Sefinenfurke Pass, which will forever make me tingle with interesting memories.

For the next few hours after a delayed but oh so welcome lunch we're heading down the Kiental valley to Griesalp, one moment with perfect visibility under clear blue Alpine skies, the next enveloped in a real pea-souper. It looks like a beautiful valley but it's tricky to tell....

We stagger into the entrance of the Berggasthaus Golderli in Griesalp at 1,440m, knackered, mud- and slush-spattered, and in need of clean Y-fronts, a shower, food and alcohol.

One Amazing Walk.

Our luggage has fast forwarded to Kandersteg. What we've carried is all we have, so it's a quick time-rationed shower and a change into dry walking trousers and t-shirts before staggering downstairs to the simple single-sitting supper at 6:30.

The mountain B&B is run rustically but efficiently by Beatrice & Georges Jost. The quality of the food is outstanding - and not just because of the preceding 12 hours. Georges may have worked for IBM once but 13 years of alternative mountain lifestyle obviously suit him. A fantastic soup rivals last night's in Murren, followed by perfect al dente spaghetti and 3, yes 3, separate sauces, all guzzled down with beer and Swiss wine from the surprisingly posh cellar. Nectar. And it somehow all tastes so much better in the knowledge that we diced with Alpine extremes and survived.

Well, that's how it will be recorded anyway.

Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful

The Amazing Hurt

2006-09-20T23:07:00.000+01:00

Oowww....... they hurt...... so much!! My poor little legs...

Well, Sunday was the big day. My first ever race. Not only that - it was half a marathon.

I posted before about taking up running to try and improve my fitness, ready for Kili. I also decided to enter the Bristol Half-Marathon so that I wouldn't wimp out from my training. It all went reasonably well in the first few months. I gradually increased the distances I was running from about 5 minutes down my street, to about 10km. The highlight was when I ran to work at the end of July, which took me an hour and five minutes to cover the 10.5km (ie, half a half-marathon).

However, after that life kind of got in the way. My bike had various problems, so I stopped cycling to work. We then went on holiday, which was great for hiking experience, but did not really contribute to my running practice. When we got back from Wales, my left knee started hurting, so I decided not to overdo it by training too much. And then suddenly it was nearly the 17th of September and I'd done nothing to build on my fabulous run to work, and if anything, I had got more out of shape.

Therefore, my strategy for the race was to take it as slow as possible and just aim to complete it. Although I told myself that my time didn't matter, the little competitive voice in the back of my head kept reminding me that in previous training sessions I had managed an average of about 10 minutes per mile, so I could keep that up for 13 and a bit miles, I should be able to finish the race in 2 hours and 10 minutes. Of course, the sensible voice told me that there was no way I could keep that up for so long, so I thought that if I finished in 2hours and 30 minutes, that would be a good result.

The day started very early, as Jon volunteered to marshal, and he was required to be there by 8am, even though the race only started at 9:30. I used the early morning to explore where all the toilets were, where I could leave my bag and collect my free sports drinks. I'd been drinking lots of fluids prior to getting there, so before the race I actually visited the loos three times. The final time there was a humungous queue, so it was only after 9:30 that I actually got out. Still, it was good timing, as the start was delayed and with about 15,000 people in front of me, it didn't matter that I joined the back of the start a bit late.

I eventually crossed the start line at about 9:45, with my Championchip recording my exact start time. The first four miles in the glorious sunshine felt pretty good, and the sheer number of runners prevented me from running too fast too soon. I stopped around mile 5 to stretch my legs and grab a drink, but I had to do this more and more frequently as the race wore on. The route then took us along the Portway underneath the Clifton Suspension Bridge by the side of the River Avon. This was a nice long stretch of road, so I just got into a good rythm, focused on my breathing and got on with it.

My breathing pattern was completely messed up on several occasions though. I saw a couple of friends unexpectedly amongst the supporting onlookers and it was such a boost to the system to be able to shout a few words to each other across the mass of people. There were also some very funny moments, such as running for about a mile behind the guy who wore nothing but some red devil's horns and a black leather thong! The chafing must have been terrible!

Then there were the times when I nearly burst into tears, especially in the last mile or so. By the end, my leg muscles and hip joints were really hurting, but the crowd grew thick and the encouragement from them and the marshals was amazing. I also just couldn't believe that I actually made it all the way round and was just about to complete a half-marathon. This is why I looked so miserable when I was about to cross the finish line.

The fish and chips afterwards were wonderful - all approved post-race meal you understand, with plenty of carbs, protein, fats and salt to replenish your enegry reserves.

However, the worst bit was yet to come. My legs were really, really achy afterwards and despite plenty of stretching, Monday saw me hobbling around the office like an old woman. Even today I can feel my legs being achy, but I can actually walk without limping now.

Overall, it was a really fantastic day. I achieved something I never thought possible, and survived all in one piece. And best of all, my time was 2 hours, 10 minutes and 31 seconds! I'm already looking at registering for the Bath Half-Marathon, which would motivate me to keep training through the winter. If I just train a bit more and practise some longer distances before the race itself, hopefully I'll reduce the post-race pain and maybe even improve on my time... who knows?

So Andy... How about the Jungfrau Marathon next year...?

Hors d'oeuvres, anyone?

2006-09-19T21:11:00.000+01:00

Mrs M and I have just about recovered from our Alpine training camp...a week in Les Arcs in the French Alps , followed by a week in the High Bernese Oberland in Switzerland. Ouch. It was exhausting, painful, exhilarating, spectacular...and revealing. I think we both realise that however challenging these two weeks were, we really need to step up the Kili preparation over the remaining 5 months.

France was supposed to be a relaxing hors d'oeuvre before the main Swiss role. Erm....it didn't quite turn out like that, as Mrs M is used to by now. Based at 1,950m we had 4 great walks with some fairly epic ascents and descents, excellent weather, wrong turns and a near-divorce. The piece de resistance, almost culminating in the matrimonial courts, was one of those let's just have a nice leisurely stroll days. We took the bus around the mountain to Arc 1650, before a relaxed jaunt up to 1800. Then on to Peisey and Vallandry for a wonderful and typically French lunch, perched on the verandah of a small bistro overlooking the Vanoise Express lift span across to La Plagne. Perfect cloudless skies, chilled vin rose, simple but exquisite nosh, the chien de maison lurking in vain for any scraps - bloody merveilleux!

We should have just circled back around the mountain to 1800 or 1650, and gone home for a swim and a sauna. But we didn't. Instead we somehow strode out sharply upwards in the direction of a church or something. And from there I said what if we carry on up around this side of the mountain, high above the Vanoise national park valley floor....we should link up with that wonderful walk we did from 1950 a couple of years ago.

A few hours later, as the shadows lengthened in sympathy with the dying embers of our marriage, we finally crested the Col de la Chal ridge at, ooh, 2,400m give or take a few painful metres. And from there it was still another hour or so home, down the high right hand side of the 2000 valley, Mrs M's weakening sense of humour only partially rescued by the joy of seeing normally shy marmottes frolicking in the late evening sun.

Blisters, misplaced sense of direction, tightening calf muscles and clenched fists were almost certainly not ideal preparation for the main course to follow next week. From France we were heading into the Bernese Oberland of Switzerland to do battle with the mighty Eiger, Monch & Jungfrau. Fortunately we would have our trusty Inntravel maps, hotels and walking notes to lead us safely on our way. Wouldn't we?

Stay tuned to read about our fantastic week in the Swiss Alps in late August. If only they'd told us to bring skis and St Bernards....

The Amazing Hursts....continued

2006-09-12T23:04:00.000+01:00

Wow. Including gift aid the total raised from Simon & Christine Hurst's 25th wedding anniversary sacrifice stands at a staggering £710.89. Fantastic.

Today is the actual day of their anniversary so huge congratulations to them both. And sorry for the embarrassing speech on Saturday.

Simon told me that they had a romantic supper a deux and al fresco, to mix foreign accents, in their recently made-over garden so the magic is clearly still there after 25 years. Congratulations - and thanks - again.

The cumulative amount raised has now burst through the £3k barrier and I'm energized to really attack the (ridiculously ambitious) target of £25k over the remaining months. Watch this space....

A couple of other snippets of info:

Thanks to Jon for bringing to our attention the program on Everest tonight. Frostbite, death, oedemas, avalanches...really encouraging. The colour drained from Mrs M as we watched it
Thanks to Sarah from the anniversary party for her useful advice from her Inca Trail experience: eat a huge breakfast; eat lots all day every day; don't take Nurofen, it makes you sick at altitude - take Paracetomol; curb your competitive instincts and take time to smell the roses, metaphorically: the camp is in the same place each evening, whether you get there first or last. Enjoy the whole experience, don't rush it. Thanks, Sarah

Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save

Will Rogers

The Amazing Hursts

2006-09-10T11:23:00.000+01:00

I wrote a couple of months ago about an amazing offer from our very good friends Simon & Christine Hurst: for their 25th wedding anniversary party they asked everyone to make a donation to World Vision, rather than give them personal presents. See, I told you it was amazing. And generous, and selfless, and not a little humbling.

Well, the party was last night at their beautiful home in Sussex. 50+ people came to a great barbecue, ate mountainously, drank copiously, enjoyed Simon's eclectic music selection, marvelled at Christine's impressive garden make-over and generally celebrated their silver wedding in suitable style.

Simon had also rigged up a nostalgic continuous film show on a wide-screen TV, with photos from scarily hirsute university days, that fateful day on 12th September 1981 and many memorable occasions in their life during the intervening 25 years. (Quite glad you've lost the beard somewhere along the way, Simon).

Their son Alex and his friends were excellent bar stewards throughout the evening, and daughter Clare and her friend Renee press-ganged everyone on arrival to cough up for the raffle. A great team effort, with help from friends, neighbours, Christine's sister Pauline and her husband Richard with the huge amount of preparation needed to make it all happen so successfully.

So far their generous idea has raised £249.24 for World Vision, with hopefully more online donations to come from people who were cajoled into taking away a note of this blog address and a steer to the online charity site linked on the right hand side of this article: Sponsor us here.

I'll update the total later this week and see if my camera upload thingy is working so that I can add some photographic flavour to the words in this article.

For now a huge thank you to everyone involved with the party, to anyone who donated and especially to Simon & Christine for their truly generous and thoughtful inspiration. A simple bowl inscribed by everyone last night is hopefully a very small memento of a great party and something to look back on over the next 25 years.

Happy Anniversary on Tuesday!

(if you were at the party and have got this far without falling asleep please feel free to post a comment by clicking on the comments link at the end of the article)

Carry On Camping, Snowdonia Style

2006-08-24T21:45:00.000+01:00

This summer, Eszter and I aimed to combine a holiday with some preparation for Kili. We toyed with the idea of going walking in the Swiss Alps, but eventually opted for Snowdonia, on the basis that a) it's a lot closer, b) we could fit some rock-climbing in, and c) we're just about fluent in one of the languages spoken there.

Following a stop-over at my dad's, in South Staffs, we headed up the A5 on a sunny Monday morning, having sensibly avoided weekend travel, with the inevitable twenty-car tailback behind an Elddis 'Crusader'. A couple of hours or so later, spontaneity* having triumphed over planning, we ended up in Betws-y-Coed with no idea of where to stay. Thankfully, one thing Snowdonia seems to have in abundance - aside from mountains, sheep, rain, midges and tea shops - is campsites. So, having found the tourist information office and grabbed a list of campsites - some reassuringly 'approved', others slightly disturbingly not so - we headed off in search of somewhere.

* also known as 'leaving things until the last possible moment'.

Eventually we picked one based at a farm (Gwern Gof Isaf), between Capel Curig and Llyn Ogwen, practically in shadow of Tryfan, and with panoramic views across to Carnedd Dafydd and Pen yr Helgi Du - perfectly located for walking and a bit of climbing.

The site itself was pretty rudimentary - no actual 'pitches', just more (or, usually, less) flat bits on a large field, with somewhat over-generously described facilities. Yes, there were showers, although the word 'shower' does usually suggest more than one jet of water (and I use the word 'jet' very loosely), and they were hot, if only in the sense that the water wasn't actually frozen. However, on the plus side, the campsite did come with its own integral alarm clock, although it seemed to be set a trifle early. And it didn't have a 'snooze' button.

The first evening was clear and fine, so we walked up a long track opposite the campsite, which went up to the Ffynon Llugwy reservoir. And at least it was downhill on the way back to the tent for supper, with an excellent view of the campsite. The view the next morning, over a nice hot cup of tea (which always tastes great when you're camping, even with UHT milk), was pretty good, too, which seemed to make up for the somewhat basic amenities.

The first full day - Tuesday - demanded we do something vaguely active (aside from making a second cup of tea), so we went into Betws-y-Coed. Somehow I've managed to go to Betws-y-Coed a few times over the years. The first couple of times were when I was at school (staying in The Towers - "an impressive Tudor style building, built in the 1870s, and situated on a magnificent site on the side of the wooded Llugwy Valley in the Snowdonia National Park"), once for an outdoor pursuits week, and later as the base for an A-level Biology Field Trip*. And more recently I camped in the area as a base for a rock-climbing trip. Betws-y-Coed is still a pretty nice place, if inevitably dedicated to the tourism that makes it viable.

* the highlight of which was being 'raided' one morning by the local constabulary, on suspicion of committing an armed robbery the night before. It's a long story...

Anyway, having spent some time buying odds and ends that we'd forgotten to pack, we set off on the first proper walk of the holiday - a round-trip (as, indeed, were all the walks), steeply up through a forest one side of the valley, to Llyn Elsi - a picturesque reservoir above Betws-y-Coed, which has a memorial viewpoint with superb views, including that of Moel Siabod - and then up towards Capel Curig, as far as the road bridge across the Llugwy, returning down the other side of the river, past the famous Swallow Falls, back down to Betws-y-Coed. A late lunch was taken on the banks of the river, dangling weary feet in the cooling - make that 'very chilly' - waters. Whilst it wasn't exactly mountain-bashing, it was a strenuous enough hike to kick things off, in some pretty engaging scenery.

It was on this walk that I toyed with the idea of a Quantum Theory of Exercise. (It's funny... disturbing... what your mind does when you're just walking.) Most of the time, people are idly orbiting life, quite stable in the Couch Potato shell, and it needs a huge amount of 'activation energy' (such as a swift kick up the backside) to jump them into the first few shells of activity, such as Walking To The Shops Rather Than Driving, or Using The Stairs Instead Of The Lift. And the jump to each next shell - the Going Running shell, or the Cross-Training At The Gym shell needs that much more activation energy. I'm not sure where I was headed with this theory, but I may pursue it at a later date and/or when drunk.

The following day - Wednesday - started off rather wet and cold, and only cleared up by lunchtime (a theme to be repeated almost daily, we were to discover), so we decided to get some rock climbing in. The campsite was just up the road from Tryfan Fach, a small outcrop at the foot of Tryfan, with some longish (200') but low-grade routes - perfect for a pleasant afternoon's climbing in the Welsh sunshine.

The Welsh sunshine lasted for the first route ('Crack 4'), and into the first pitch of the second, but by the time I was leading the second pitch of 'Slab 1', and getting very close to the exposed edge of the outcrop (on the left hand side of this picture) a pretty hefty storm broke over the top of Tryfan, with some of the strongest winds I've climbed in for quite a while. After reaching the top I was now stuck just sitting there and belaying, but Eszter had all the fun of having to scale the increasingly wet and cold rock. Some people have all the luck! With no sign of the wind and rain abating, we called it a day after two routes, and headed back to base camp.

Today happened to be my birthday, so we went into Betws-y-Coed for meal, ending up at one of the several pubs the town still has (food good, Abbot Ale even better). We then called in at the local shop, to see what we could take back to the tent for pudding. Having previously scoffed an excellent bread-and-butter pudding we got from there on our first day, their home-made pies looked like just the job. Just two were left - golden brown things, with two small holes in the top. According to a note taped to the counter, two holes meant cherry (one hole was apple, two 'slots' was blackberry, etc).

"A cherry pie, please", I asked.

"We haven't got any," came the assistant's reply.

"But those two pies both have two holes," I incisively countered

"Yes, but they're rhubarb," came back the crushing rejoinder.

"So why have they got two holes?"

"To confuse people".

There being no good answer to that, we walked away from the counter and started looking at biscuits. We must have looked really dejected, because a minute later the assistant came up to us and said "We've just taken tomorrow's pies out of the oven. We don't normally sell them straight away, but you can have one of them if you like - there's apple, strawberry, blackberry and blueberry." No contest. "Blueberry, please". It was still warm when we got back to the tent, and whilst plastic picnic plates may not complement haute cuisine, the pie tasted ambrosial to me.

Meantime, the wind and rain had intensified as the evening wore on. By the time we crawled into our sleeping bags, the front door flap was billowing like a spinnaker, and one rear corner of the tent - which should have looked like the right-hand side of this one - was bending inwards by more the amount it should have been bending outwards.

Diagnosis? The guy rope no longer attached to the ground.

Prognosis? Tent liable to imminent collapse.

Treatment? Jon must crawl out of his cosy sleeping bag and stumble around in the dark, in the rain, in a howling gale, trying to the kick tent peg into stony ground wearing sandals.

Dosage? Four or five times a night.

We knew it had been windy when, next morning, we saw the neighbours had attached their tent to their car. And someone later told me that a tent they'd seen pitched the previous evening had vanished by the morning - the people had given up trying to repeatedly secure it and retreated to their car to sleep.

"Is it often this windy?" I asked the woman at the farm..

"Oh yes," she replied.

"See that barn?" she continued, pointing to a building just behind where we'd had our tent - a building with a galvanized metal roof bolted to it. "I've seen that roof just peeled off."

So, we decided to declare it a 'rest day', and move to a slightly less exposed campsite, a bit further south in Snowdonia, where there had so far seemed to be fewer clouds in the sky. The rest of the morning was spent packing - including wrestling the tent into its bag in a gale force wind. Quite strenuous enough for an alleged 'rest day', thank you very much. By the time we left the campsite, it was getting deserted, as many other people had clearly also had enough of the conditions there.

After heading down to Beddgelert we found our way to the Forestry Commission campsite, just outside the town. This site was diametrically different to the first one - highly organised, obvious pitches, lots of trees for shelter (obvious really, given it's in a forest), free hot showers (that really are both hot and showers), hot water for washing-up, and a small shop (albeit understocked and overpriced). Plus they sold butane too - an increasing concern, given that we had no idea how long ours was going to last.

To be honest, the Forestry Commission campsite was a bit too organised for me, with rather too many caravans & motorhomes and people who seemed more concerned about how to improve their TV reception than actually getting out and about. Oh, and children, too. Whilst I think camping is a really excellent activity to take children on - it teaches them some self-sufficiency and (hopefully) gets them into nature and exercise - I'd just rather they weren't taken quite so close to my tent. Nor should they be given footballs, scooters and - I really can't stress this last one too strongly - cap-guns. However, having proper amenties and a sheltered pitch was infinitely preferable to cold showers and expecting the tent to leave the ground at any moment, so I shouldn't complain.

The following day - Friday - saw a return to the walking schedule, with a traverse of the three 'Moels' (a 'moel' is a 'bare hill') that are right by the campsite - Moel Hebog, Moel Yr Ogof and Moel Lefn. They're not the highest peaks (Hebog is only 782m, and the other two are around 650m), but there's plenty of ascent and descent involved - good for building up those calves - and the final stretch up Hebog involves quite a degree of scrambling. For some reason we didn't take any pictures on this walk (I'm guessing the weather was very overcast), but the one below shows the three Moels - we walked right across the top of all three (left to right), before a very muddy return through Beddgelert Forest to the campsite.

(Original photo by Dogfeael, on flickr - thanks!)

One thing we had decided that we definitely needed to do was a long walk on two successive days (Kili obviously requiring several consecutive days - and long ones at that - of hard walking). So, the Saturday morning saw us heading off to go up Cnicht. Again, it's by no means the highest of peaks - 'only' 689m - but it's a very 'mountain shaped' hill (and even more so in winter) and is known as the 'Matterhorn of Wales' as a result. And anyway, the name alone is reason enough to climb it.

It's quite a slog up Cnicht from Croesor, and we thought we were doing well until a woman (a middle-aged woman, at that, if it's not ungallant to mention it) ran past us, her teenage son in tow. A bit further along we caught up with her husband, who explained that it was the annual Cnicht Fell Race in three weeks, and she was getting a first look at the course. Okay, she was in lightweight shoes, rather than heavy boots, and wasn't carrying a pack full of spare clothes, food, camera and water, but it was still fairly demoralizing having someone zip past you like a mountain goat. That said, she stopped her reconnaisance well short of the actual summit (not that I blame her), so we trudged onwards and upwards, as she went back down for some bara brith and a cuppa.

The views from the top of Cnicht - like this, this (one of my favourites pictures from the holiday, taken by Eszter), and this - certainly make the long hard slog up there worth the effort.

It's quite a long way down, too, as the route goes right along the ridge and then down through some very boggy areas on the edge of a couple of lakes. And it doesn't help if you go quite a long way in the wrong direction, and have to break a path over the top of a hill to find your way back the correct route. (Yes Eszter, you were right. This time, anyway.) Part way along the walk down the path cut across a tramway incline - it must be hard work going down one of those, we thought, as we followed the increasingly gentle path back to the car park in Croesor.

We were both happy to have done a second consecutive day's walking, up some steep and rugged terrain. But the weather on the Sunday morning was utterly wet and miserable, and didn't make us feel like going anywhere much. It brightened up a bit by early afternoon, so we decided to do a bit more climbing to salvage something from day. We drove round to the far end of Llyn Ogwen (passing the still half-deserted original campsite), to the car park by Ogwen Cottage (bottom middle of the picture). From here a path goes up to Llyn Idwal and Twll Du (also known as 'The Devil's Kitchen'), and then on round the Glyderau. We were aiming to climb on Clogwyn y Tarw (The Gribin Facet), which requires going up to Llyn Idwal, and then breaking off left and clambering over a load of boulders that were originally attached to the cliff face you're about to climb up.

It was here we saw one of the strangest sights I've seen out walking. As we started up the path to Llyn Idwal, we were passed by a large group of people - maybe 20 in all - heading the same way. Nothing unusual about that - it's August in Snowdonia, after all, and lots of groups take to the hills. Quite so. Except that this group was composed entirely of Orthodox Jews, in full Hasidic-style attire - white shirts, black trousers, long black coats, black hats, and black 'city' shoes - much like the people in the picture. Perhaps I'm too conservative in my views on hiking clothes, but they didn't seem best equipped for the mountains, especially if the weather turned nasty. Still, they seemed happy enough, so good luck to them.

The climbing route we decided on was 'Angular Chimney', a climb of two pitches, which goes up the 'corner' where a large 'bastion' of rock abuts the main cliff-face (the angle), and then through a narrow 'chimney' to the top (the, err, chimney). We spent quite a while - as usual - getting into our harnesses & boots, selecting enough protection (the stuff you put in cracks in the rock to help prevent your falling all the way down), and making sure the rope was running freely. Just getting up to the start of the climb involves quite a scramble, and requires you to invest a seriously unwise amount of faith in the ability of plant roots to support a human body.

Now, although I've been climbing on and off for about 10 years, I'd be the first to admit that I'm not especially good at it, and that I'm somewhat heavier now than when I started. But I've climbed some quite respectable routes in my time, and being quite tall usually allows me to reach holds that elude other people's desperate fingers. And I'd even climbed this very route before (about 8 years ago). So why did I have so much trouble this time?

Just getting off the ground to start with was hard enough - yes, there was quite a nice hand-hold on top of the jutting out base of the 'bastion', but there were no useful footholds at all. In the end it required the sort of strenuous heave-ho more associated with the 'thuggier' routes on Grit stone (such as at The Roaches, in the Peak District). How can this possibly be graded the same as the nice easy route we did the other day? Then it got worse.

The problem was that the corner was dank and dark, and the face next to it hadn't dried out much at all, meaning that where the rock was covered with moss and lichen - which seemed to include all the footholds - it was as slippery as ice. I managed to clamber up about 50' or so of the first pitch, my dirty green knees and elbows a visible testament to the 'as many points of contact as possible' school of climbing I had adopted out of necessity. Then I reached an impasse. The moves needed to carry on were pretty obvious. A brief traverse out onto the face, grab hold of a nice convenient flake, find a couple of good foot-holds, and go back up into the corner. The only slight flaw with that plan was the complete absence of any foot-holds with appreciably more friction than Teflon.

Okay, I was roped up, and wouldn't have fallen too far if I slipped. But my last piece of protection was already a little way below me, and there was nowhere to put more in until after I was back in the corner, about another 15' higher up. Moreover, a fall into a corner tends to be rather more unpleasant than one straight down a cliff face, as there's just more rock to collide with. I gave it three attempts (the last one was so close - really!) before deciding that 'he who lowers-off and walks away, lives to climb another day'. Then I got Eszter to lower me back down, and we went back to the campsite.

You can't really come to Snowdonia and not go up Snowdon. We'd climbed it earlier in the year, as a Kili team-building exercise, and found it an 'educational experience' as far as our current fitness levels were concerned. So on Monday it seemed a good idea to see what difference three months of training (stop laughing) had made. The obvious route, based on where were were camped, was the Watkin Path, which had the attraction of being one I've never done before*, and also being the route that starts from the lowest point - just 60 m above sea level - giving an overall height gain of 1025m by the time you reach the top. A less obvious attraction is that the sentry-point scenes of 'Carry on Up the Khyber' were filmed on the Watkin Path.

* Up to now I'd done Rhydd Du (the Kili team assault in April), up Pyg & down Miners, and the Snowdon Horseshoe (in winter).

The problem with the Watkin path is that it has a deceptively civilized start - the path is paved with large flat stones, and the ascent up Cwm Llan is pretty gradual. Indeed, it used to be possible to drive a coach and horses up to the quarry that marks about the half-way point up the path. Of course, such a gentle start comes at a price, and after the quarry the path takes a sharp turn up the hillside. It's still well marked, but rather steeper. Eventually, the path levels out a bit, where it reaches Bwlch y Saethau (the Pass of Arrows) - said to be where King Arthur was fatally wounded in his last battle, with Sir Bedivere carrying Arthur down to Llyn Llydaw to be taken away by the 'fair maids of the mountains', casting the sword Excalibur into Llyn Glaslyn along the way. (Glaslyn the nearer, Llydaw the further, in the photo.)

Having started the walk a bit late in the day (at midday), we began to meet a few people who were already on their way down, some of whom were extremely encouraging, passing helpful comments such as "the hardest bit is next", "it gets much steeper very soon" and "it's quite dangerous up there, you know...". They weren't wrong either. After a bit of a zig-zag, the path takes a final turn, heading for the eastern end of Bwich Main, pretty much straight up the side of the mountain. The path, such as it is (which isn't much by now), is basically a mixture of scree and larger rocks - all very unstable, and with the potential of a long and painful fall should you slip. Thankfully it's only a short stretch (we covered it in 20 minutes), but it's certainly very strenuous, and needs some care.

Once you reach the 'saddle' at the end of Bwlch Main, it's only a few minutes more up to the summit, and the hideous bunker-like monstrosity of the café (mercifully now scheduled for demolition and replacement with what will hopfully be a more visually sympathetic 'visitors centre'). Time taken for the whole ascent: 2½ hours. I've no idea if that's good, bad or just average for the Watkin Path, but we both felt pretty good about it. As usual, the summit area was absolutely heaving with people, the vast majority of whom would have come up from Pen-y-Pass. And it goes without saying that as we'd gone up the cloud base had come down, so there were (yet again) no views to be had. So, staying only for the obligatory trot up to the trig point, we headed off down again.

I have an aversion to going back the same way, so rather than descend via the Watkin Path, we decided to do a round-trip, along the South Ridge to Bwlch Cwm Llan and then down into the valley. (This is the start of the same route down we took on the Kili team trip in April, but you then turn left rather than right at the end of the South Ridge). Descending into the valley is quite tricky, as it's another very loose slope (although not as bad as going down Watkin would have been), but after that the going gets a lot easier, as you follow a well defined path.

Soon you find yourself following the route of the South Snowdon Slate Works tramway, used to take slate from the quarries, eventually reaching a point where the suggested path takes a detour down and round the base of a hill, and the tramway carries on straight ahead, apparently providing a short-cut. Just out of curiosity, we carried on along the route of the tramway. Oddly, the tramway seemed to go gently up, which didn't augur too well for how we were going to go down the other side of the hill to rejoin the path. When we reached the 'head' of the track, all became horribly clear - the way down was a tramway incline. Straight down, cut through solid rock. Ever game for a laugh we decided to give it a go...

The first section, through the cutting, was basically a reverse scramble, and easier done down-climbing 'backwards' (facing the rock) rather than walking forwards. After that, the middle section became very loose scree, which I elected to 'run' (as the scuffs on my boots now record) and Eszter, more sensibly perhaps, to walk, and finally a steep grassy slope. Looking back up it, not only did it seem something of an achievement - if a quite unnecessary one, given the existence of a perfectly good path round base of the hill - but my admiration (and sympathy) for the Welsh slate miners who built and worked the tramway grew further - hard men, and a very hard life. Snooker tables everywhere are their memorials.

The weather having held up pretty well all day, it stayed fine and dry for the evening, so we decided to risk a celebratory barbecue. A respectable amount of meat was bought from the shop in Beddgelert (currently for sale, incidentally), along with a modest supply of beer (we were supposed to be being healthy, after all). Thankfully, lighting the barbecue didn't conjour any rain, and we enjoyed a very relaxing (and filling) evening.

Throughout the holiday we'd been consulting the Met Office mountain weather forecasts for Snowdonia, which get posted up daily in various shops throughout Snowdonia. Whilst they hadn't been especially accurate, they had seemed to be consistently on the optimistic side. Heavy storms were predicted for later in the week, so we thought it a good idea to get another day's walking in on the Tuesday, in case it was our last chance. We'd been lent a book of Snowdonia walks, and it described a long-ish circular walk from Beddgelert along the length of Llyn Dinas, then back through the Nanmor Valley and the Pass pf Aberglaslyn to Beddgelert. It also said it was "without strenuous climbing or difficult terrain", which just goes to show you definitely can't believe everything you read.

To be fair, it was a very pleasant walk. Or rather, it would have been, had it not rained continuously for the last 4 hours of the route. We'd brought waterproofs with us, but given the way Welsh rain has of starting gently before setting in for the day, we were already pretty wet before it was obvious we were going to need them. Eszter donned her jacket, but I chose to stay in just my windproof + base layer, on basis that a) I couldn't get any wetter (it turned out that I could, actually), and b) I'd dry out very quickly if the rain ever stopped (it didn't). To add to the fun, one of the shoulder straps of my new backpack (bought just a couple of days before the holiday) decided to break - thankfully towards the end of the walk - so I was left having to hold the loose end of the strap to keep the pack* balanced.

* a Karrirmor 'Airspace 25', should you wish to avoid buying one.

With much of our clothing now wet or generally clammy (as things kept in tents tend to get) , our boots now sodden (even if the Goretex lining had kept our feet dry), and with the weather forecast to deteroriate, we decided to bring our Snowdonia trip to an end, and head for home on the Wednesday. There's not much to say about the journey back through Wales, except that there's a very good fish & chip shop in Newtown (well, there has to be something good about the place).

Thus ended our Summer Training Camp. All-in-all, I think we managed to combine a much needed holiday for both of us with a useful 10 days of 'getting some miles in' on the hills. It also showed that we could spend day- after-day, together, including couped-up in a tent, without the distractions of TV or the Internet, without killing each other (although I did see a dangerous glint in Eszter's eyes once or twice...).

It wasn't a conventional 'relaxing holiday', perhaps, but it worked for us!

Pah! Kilimanjaro in six days? I could do it in four.

2006-08-21T19:41:00.000+01:00

...Just kidding. With Andrew setting me up to look like some sort of super-fit freak, I thought I'd give you all a little fright by way of an introduction.

I work with Andrew at The Motley Fool, so I obviously know him. We all know too much about him, including what underwear he wears. Still, he invited me on this great trip, so he can't be all bad. Ha!

I also know Jon, or 'Spider' as he's known at The Fool. He doesn't usually work in the office, so I usually communicate with him by email. The first ever email I received from him was a telling off for not using the discussion boards properly. Oops. Sorry again Jon!

I've already got an inkling about the rest of you from the blogs. By my count, nasty mean Andrew has taunted poor Steve no less than 7 times by implying he's a slacker. Eszter's clearly the good-goody, but anyone who wants to show up Andrew and Jon is alright by me. And Mrs M...apart from the good advice about gingko biloba (which will also help my tinnitus apparently. Is there anything it can't do?) I’m afraid I won’t be able to call you Mrs M. Not that there's anything wrong with the name; it's great. Problem is, my siblings and I call my mum Mrs M, so it's deeply weird. It stands for 'Mrs Mum'. (I told Andrew no prizes for guessing for what I call my dad. He guessed anyway. 'Mrs D'? he asked. Some people!)

Anyway, I have an unfair advantage. I’ve read about you, but all you know about me is that I'm some guy who has gate crashed your hike. So…I like to climb and walk (handy, I suppose). I don't get to do either as much as I'd like. I do wall climbing mostly and I went to Hadrian's Wall earlier this year, which obviously involved a lot of walking. Next year I plan to walk the length of the Wall. The tallest mountain I’ve scaled…drum roll…Snowdon. Wow! I don’t hear you all exclaim. I live in Kilburn, which is depressingly flat, but I'm near Primrose Hill and Hampstead Heath, so I can get some training down around there.

…And this is a great time for me to start training. I went to my first ever cricket match a few weeks ago, England vs. Pakistan, which England won. Moreover, I'm refreshed from a recent holiday. Plus, I learned a couple of weeks ago that I'm a godfather, as a friend gave birth to a girl called Seren - and a more deserving couple you can't find. So I'm full of life, enthusiastic and ready to apply myself to a rigorous training regime. After telling Jon this today, his comments: ‘Too depressing’. Teeheehee.

I thought of explaining in detail why I’d like to climb Kili, but anyone going on this crazy trip knows exactly why. To sum up: the incredible views, the walking, the challenge, the extremes, the endless walking, dizziness, panic, fear of failure…Hang on. Why are we doing this again?

But really, it’s going to be a lot of fun! I’m highly motivated to train. My main concerns are strengthening my calves and shins and, of course, low oxygen. I can't help thinking of that scene in The Simpsons when Homer is climbing the Murder Horn solo. You see him surrounded by seven or eight empty oxygen tanks, whilst he's furiously breathing into another. Then you hear Bart's voice: 'Er dad, don't you think you should save some of those for higher up?' The image pans back, and you see that Homer's only climbed about five feet. That could be me.

By the way Andrew, I’m very impressed with the 44bpm heart rate. Although Jon and I shamefully joked it was an early indicator of cardiomyopathy. Jealousy make man mean. Seriously though, glad you’ve got the all clear from specialists. Hypoxy-whatsit tests are probably a good idea for everyone.

I’m still working on my new routine, but it’ll involve a lot more walking (the fun part), plus I'll increase the cardio work I do in the gym (the ugh! part). I tested a circuit routine last week:

½ hour/15km on the bike on a mid-to-difficult setting
1,500 metres rowing in five minutes on the hardest setting
Ten minutes/2km running at 12km/hr (Eszter and Andrew are both right: running is tedious.)
Ten minutes/1km walking up a 15 degree incline (a climb of 144metres) at 6km/hr.

My first session went quite well, although by the end I certainly felt that I could have done with hiking poles. And possibly seven or eight oxygen tanks.

Yes, I do feel lucky

2006-08-17T22:53:00.000+01:00

Thanks to my generous - and ever so slightly concerned - Mum & Dad, I went for the hypoxic consultation with Richard Pullan at The Altitude Centre in London today.

Fascinating stuff. Really. Richard blinded me with body science but the upshot is that I'm in rude health and at a good fitness level already.....for my excessive years, at least. And from the AMS susceptibility test there's every chance that I won't suffer too badly from the dreaded altitude sickness. As long as I remember to drink 4 litres of water and take 1/2 an aspirin a day, consider taking certain vitamins and my Y-fronts aren't too tight.

I am the proud owner of a written report, showing my blood pressure (optimal at 110/63); resting heart rate (Olympian at 44!); breath hold with empty lungs (pathetic at 26 seconds); hypoxic test result at a simulated altitude of 5,200m with an oxygen level of 11% (time-to-descent very good at 121 seconds; time-to-recover good at 46 seconds). The AMS test was conducted at a simulated 4,000m with oxygen at 12.8%.

I've also got the graph print-outs, showing the readings of my breathing patterns during the two tests. This is all just my simple idiot-friendly interpretation of a complex procedure. See The Altitude Centre's website for a more detailed and scientific explanation of the rationale and benefits of hypoxic training. And I've copied some of the more technical jargon from Richard's report on me below.

So having got a fairly glowing report from Richard and some comfort that I might be lucky enough not to suffer from AMS, will I go for the hypoxic training course? I'm not sure. It's not cheap and it's time consuming.... it might depend on Gill's assessment. If she's more susceptible then perhaps we think about renting for the month prior to Kili, especially if the rest of the brave Kili6 group can get some benefit too. We'll see nearer the time.

Anyway, for me it was £49 very well spent (I'll consider it a small advance on my inheritance). The whole area of hypoxic training is enlightening and intriguing. Richard treats asthmatics and migraine sufferers, as well as endurance athletes, professional sportsmen and mountaineers, who all benefit from this relatively new approach. I'd encourage everyone to try and get an assessment done if they can - the way I decided to look at it was: I'm only going to try and climb that bloody mountain once and I intend to get to Kibo peak and see the sun rise over Africa. I want to minimise the risk of AMS or any other obstacle, and maximise my chances and enjoyment level.

So yes, I feel incredibly lucky already for gaining this knowledge...and just hope that I feel the same way come the first week in March 2007.

Hypoxic Test. Td (Time to descent) was very good at 121s, you display a good tolerance to hypoxia. Tr (time to recover) was good at 46 seconds. Hypoxic training should increase your Td and improve your recovery time, this will make you more efficient with oxygen. Your breathing rate in this test started at 12 breaths per minute, then increased. Increased ventilation during hypoxic exposure (if done subconsciously) is a good sign that you will acclimatise well.

Hypoxic Test. The function of this test is to assess the condition of the user before the IHT course starts. From this information individual hypoxic parameters best suited to the person can be established. The test consists of up to seven minutes of hypoxic breathing followed by up to three minutes of room air breathing. The person undergoing the test wears the finger clip sensor throughout the test. This sensor measures the amount of oxygen in the blood (SpO2) and your heart rate. The two parameters obtained from this test make up your time to descend (Td) and time to recover (Tr).

Td (time to descend). As a rule, the length of this parameter in non-athletes reflects the level of general health and fitness – the longer Td – the higher fitness level. Greater than 100 sec reflects higher ability of the person to withstand hypoxic challenge. In most people Td has a trend to extend over the course of IHT training by 30-100%.

People having Td less that 40-60 sec may be considered having low hypoxia sensitivity and milder IHT program must be assigned for them.

Tr (time to recovery). Generally this parameter may be in the range of 30s – 120s. Over the course of IHT this period has a trend towards shortening.

AMS Susceptibility Test. Your test at 12.8% O2 (4,000m simulated altitude) indicated that your average arterial oxygen saturation percentage was 89%. The test indicates that you are not susceptible to AMS as plotted against the research by Burscher et. al. 2004.

AMS Susceptibility Test. A total of 150 subjects known to suffer from AMS tested their SaO2 values at various simulated altitudes. The test was matched against non AMS suffers. Conclusion, SaO2 measurement is a good indicator to AMS susceptibility.

Intermittent Hypoxic Training (IHT). Hypoxic and room air breathing episodes are each of several minutes’ (3-6) duration. A course of acclimatisation to a high altitude environment normally comprises 15 sessions, with daily sessions consisting of 30-120 minutes of appropriate respiration.

This technique does not deny the role of oxygen in human life. On the contrary, it has been proven that hypoxic training significantly improves oxygen metabolism in the body.

Transient lack of oxygen stimulates the pro-oxidant system in the body. Short-term exposures to mild hypoxia stimulate the body’s defence mechanisms and produce numerous beneficial responses in our physiology.

So do you feel lucky, punk?

2006-08-09T00:55:00.000+01:00

Remember this earlier article about my old geography teacher Mr Hann and the dreaded AMS? What a bummer to train for a year (well, slightly less in Steve's case), feel great on the way up and loving the whole experience.....only to be struck down by the dreaded altitude sickness a day or two short of the Kili summit, or even worse just shy of the top on that final scary night.

Rumour has it that AMS can affect anyone, regardless of fitness level, age, collar size or sexual orientation. So if it were possible, would you do something to minimise the AMS risk...and if so, how much would you be willing to pay?

Well, my resourceful missus has spotted just such an option. It's possible to train the body to expect the less than 50% of normal oxygen intake that we'll face approaching Kibo summit.

How? By using hypoxic training, a relatively new science and a hot area of interest amongst academics, making accessible something previously only available to a select few high performance athletes.

Why? It can prepare you for altitudes of up to 22,000 feet by boosting your red blood cells and general fitness. A nice secondary advantage for some people seems to be weight loss. And all just by breathing into a gizmo for a few hours.

Where? At the Altitude Centre in London.

How much? The initial consultation, including a health check, a hypoxic sensitivity test and a programme design, is £49. The AMS susceptibility test - to help predict how you’ll cope on the mountain by monitoring your blood oxygen saturation - is £10 as an add-on to the initial consultation. And then the actual hypoxic training is a breathtaking £299 for the standard course of 15 1-hour IHT sessions. Take a look around their website - there are interesting articles on how The Altitude Centre helped Cav Burke, a 49 year-old previously fat bastard French polisher, to summit Kili in 2005, how many professional athletes have used this to enhance their performance (Floyd Landis was spotted there recently), and a lot more about the scientific aspects.

So do you feel lucky, punk? Want to take your chances on the mountain like an adventurous amateur...or reduce the AMS risk before we hit Africa and pretend we're serious athletes? Go ahead...make my day.

Focus, focus, focus

2006-07-24T00:53:00.000+01:00

Kili must definitely be looming on the horizon. Steve is starting training tomorrow...and giving up smoking.

Deja vu: the strange feeling that in some way you have experienced already what is happening now. No offence, Steve, but the words before, heard and often come to mind..

But it must mean that even Steve realises that it ain't that long until we head on out to Tanzania to take on Kilimanjaro, the tallest free-standing mountain in the world.

Jimbo BSD Illsley has roped me into that 10k run. In Loseley Park, near Guildford. October. I haven't run a 10k distance for, oooh, maybe 20 years. Should be enlightening to see if my 49 year old legs, lungs and heart can carry me the distance with what I know already is likely to be insufficient training.

I'm walking fit, but the running action just uses up sooo many different muscles at an obviously higher metabolic and cardio-vascular rate. Besides, let's be honest, running is just plain boring, isn't it?

I can imagine life in the Radcliffe household when Junior shows up, running spikes already on as he sprints out after Paula's perfectly paced labour. Now, my boy, we've got you down for New York in 24 and London in 26. That means no crawling the year after next - you go straight to a gentle jog. We need to mould your lats, tarsals and demi-cuspids into optimum athletic position if we're to clinch that Nike deal before your 12th birthday. Now, where's that isotonic dummy....no, not you, Daddy.

Still not running, but Mrs M and I are off for some high altitude training in August. Just walking, but probably some pretty challenging stuff, especially in the second week when we'll be doing the Bernese Oberland high route in Switzerland. Some really tough days but inspiring in the shadow of the magnificent Eiger and Jungfrau mountains. Should move us forward in terms of leg strength and lung capacity...but of course nothing can adequately prepare us for the 5,895m of altitude that we'll be facing in Africa in February.

I reckon it's going to be difficult to come to terms with the reality that no matter how fit we might be or how much we've focused on training and preparation, physically and mentally, any one of us could be hit by the dreaded altitude sickness at any time during the Kili climb. Perhaps Steve has the right idea after all...no focus. Just Do It.

But probably not recommended.

focus (sth) on/upon sb/sth
phrasal verb
to give a lot of attention to one particular person, subject or thing.

Hazy, crazy and not so lazy days of summer

2006-07-17T22:25:00.000+01:00

After a spring hiatus there's been a sudden burst of Kili50 fundraising activity in the early summer....

First up, Wimbledon. Despite a depressing dearth of British tennis talent, and apart from a glorious but ultimately frustrating burst of promise from Andy Murray, I enjoyed it hugely. I was lucky enough to go on the 2nd Tuesday and, even luckier, to be in the Number 1 court amphitheatre. All thanks to a very kind offer from an old Bermuda mate, Stuart McCaffer via Doog Gourlay. Sunshine, banter, pints of Pimms, grunting ladies and strawberries as sweet and fresh as Maria Sharapova's long limbs....what more could anyone want?

Well, England actually winning a penalty shoot-out, obviously - and Stuart making a very generous contribution to the World Vision cause for Kil50. Thanks for a great day, Stuart, and also for your dosh - hugely appreciated.

Next up...Auntie Joyce. Despite her and Uncle Owen suffering very bad health, she donated some money to the Kili50 cause and some great stuff to be sold to raise money for the coffers. Most amazing of all, she offered some teapots from her prized collection. Read on for the epic adventures of the Lymington Boot Fair Virgins...

But first there was Jimbo Illsley, a neighbour, friend and recently promoted official BSD at JPMorgan. Not only did Jimbo give very generously when he took pity on Mrs M and me struggling up Holloway Hill during our epic effort, but he's also recently donated more through the online channel. I suspect that it's partly a bribe to entice me to join him on a local 10k run in October but no matter, he's been surreptitiously checking out this blog and has very kindly helped to kick-start the fundraising momentum. Thanks, Jimbo - ready for the first training session?

Next...yesterday's entertaining, sweltering and rewarding Lymington Boot Fair. Armed with Auntie Joyce's teapots, brother Paul and s-i-l Carol's old books and 1970s games, neighbours Simon & Fi's rustic CD rack and objets d'art, and a whole array of interesting household items from Mum & Dad's generous neighbours, we set off at 06:30. Who? Mrs M & me, Mum & Dad who had the inspiration and rallied the neighbours, and cousin Elaine aka Liz, down on holiday from Leeds. I'm sure getting up at the crack of dawn, standing in a field for 6 hours in 90 degree heat and trying to flog dodgy gear like Del Boy and Rodders wasn't quite what she had in mind...but thanks, Liz, for entering into the spirit of the day for World Vision.

We did amazingly well, considering our lack of experience in the Boot Fair demi-monde, the varied nature and quality of our wares, and the most un-English heat. We grossed about £170 for our sweaty efforts, which has winged its way to World Vision already for the Kisiriri community in Tanzania. Huge thanks again to everyone involved, especially to Mum & Dad for organizing it, Liz for her hard work, Mrs M for giving up her weekend and anyone who contributed The Gear.

Finally, and without denigrating all the other generous contributors above, the most heartwarming and surprising donor rang our doorbell last night as Gill and I lay semi-conscious on the couch, recovering from heat exhaustion and Boot Fairitis. Step forward Jamie Ware. The elder son of aforementioned neighbours Simon & Fi, Jamie had been working most of the day for a client of Mrs M's. He handed over some of his hard-earned cash for the Kili50 charity. As far as I'm aware Simon & Fi hadn't got the thumbscrews out....so how refreshing and humbling that he wanted to do this instead of spending it all on drugs, sweets or DVDs like the majority of teenagers might well do in these jaundiced times. Thanks, Jamie - keep an eye on this blog to see if we get anywhere close to the £25,000 target as February 2007 closes in. And put the rest of your wages in a Motley Fool index-tracking ISA rather than spend it on drugs, sweets or DVDs.

We're almost up to £2,200 already with 6 months to go. Time to get serious on the fundraising, I reckon. If you stumble across this blog please send this link to donate online and help us raise money for the World Vision programme helping the community of Kisiriri in Tanzania.

Now We Are 6

2006-07-17T22:00:00.000+01:00

You'll know that we've been The Kili5 since this crazy idea of climbing Kilimanjaro in February 2006 took hold?

Well.....Neil Faulkner, a fellow Fool, is joining us so we've morphed into The Kili6.

Neil is disturbingly young and, I suspect, nauseatingly fit. He's one of our writing superstars so we'll have to raise our game on the article front, and hopefully he'll lead by example, posting lots of interesting and gramatically perfect articles about anything he wants to. All I really know about him is that he likes rock-climbing and music, and knows an awful lot about personal finance. I'll let him fill in the huge gaps

So welcome to the Pain Dome, Neil. We'll organize a walking and drinking weekend some time so that you can officially meet the rest of the gang and laugh at our lack of fitness and, in my case, youth

Trust us, it's going to be fun

Esther sprinting away in the Kili Fitness Stakes

2006-07-06T00:16:00.000+01:00

Well done, Esther - sounds like you're really getting into the Kili fitness zone. Discipline. Focus. Commitment. If only the England football team had some of those attributes, maybe we'd be invading Berlin by now...

Good luck with the half-marathon. I'm sure you're right about the cross-training helping out with your overall fitness and also relieving the tedium of doing too much of one discipline.

How are we doing? You may well ask...

Gill has climbed into a small kitchen window of opportunity. After months of total focus on her business she has finally found her way back to the gym. There's no truth in the rumour that Charterhouse reception had filed a Missing Persons report with Surrey Police. Mrs M has even booked another assessment so I think she's serious about getting back into the swing of the training thing.

Unless being glued to the couch during the World Cup, ironing and cremating some sausages whilst guzzling Pimms counts as cross-training, I'm afraid I'm slipping behind with my Kili preparation. The only exercise I've been having, apart from a strenous rant during every England game, is the walk to and from work every day. And Mrs M and I have had some great yomps in the Surrey Hills over the last few weeks, otherwise work, commuting, lassitude and inertia have filled my schedule to capacity.

As far as I know Steve continues to subscribe to the just-in-time mountain-climbing theory: I'll get fit just in time to get on the plane

Jon has had much more important things on his mind than Kili fitness for quite a while now. We're thinking of you, Jon, and hope you and your Dad are pulling through.

How to redress the balance? As soon as the final whistle blows on Sunday the World Cup excuse has gone for another 4 years. I'll get back into the gym and cut out the Spitfire-and-chips diet. And Gill and I are off on our usual relaxing summer holiday in August...a week in the French Alps and then a continuous week of strenuous kill-or-cure hiking in the high-and-mighty Bernese Oberland across the border in Switzerland. Still no cross-training, Esther, although I might try and persuade Gill to jump off a mountain parapenting, if that counts?

You and Jon are welcome to come and stay with us one weekend too, if you want to - maybe in September or October? The Surrey Hills are great - not Kili high but perhaps we could go for an all-day trek to start building up some stamina for those long hard African days.

End of summer term report:

South Minster Cottage: definitely not over-trained this term, but other commitments used as an excuse to miss most classes. Basic fitness levels barely maintained. C-
Rowledge: truant the whole term. F
Bristol: Esther - outstanding student, showing great commitment. A. Jon - excused class

Keep on running....

2006-06-16T14:18:00.000+01:00

I am curious about whether anyone’s got any proper training in place yet, in preparation for the Kili climb...

I personally feel that I have been significantly better at being active since it mentally sunk in that, actually, we’ll be climbing something bl**dy huge, with hardly any air around, so I ought to be a bit fitter.

To give myself a shorter-term goal to aim for, I have entered the Bristol Half-Marathon, which is due to take place on September 17 this year. My idea was that if I start running on a regular basis (which I’ve always found mind-numbingly boring in the past), then at least I can get the strength in my legs up a bit, so I should be able to manage better when we’re having to walk for whole days on end.

As part of this training, I’ve been going running for about 30 to 35 minutes three or four times a week after getting home from work. I am going to try and increase my times gradually over the coming weeks. In addition, I am still cycling to and from work every day, which takes about 40 minutes each way. Finally, just to add an element of fun to all the exercise, I’ve started going rock climbing on Tuesday nights with Jon and a couple of mates from work.

I must admit, I do think that the running has had a positive impact. I mostly notice this during cycling, especially now that I have a speedometer, which has made me totally obsessed with my average/max speeds, time taken, distances, etc, etc. I think I have improved slightly over the past few weeks. For example, now I can cycle up the hill in my second to lowest gear (woo-hoo!), where I used to have to stop, gasping for air, and push the bike up.

Saddo that I am, I’ve bought a book about half/marathon running (from this guy). One of the interesting things I have learnt from it is that you’re supposed to vary the exercise that you get, because you can add support to the muscles that you’re trying to build up, by getting your other muscles a bit stronger as well.

So if you’re training for a long-distance run, you shouldn’t get all your exercise just in the form of running, but you should do something else, like swimming occasionally, just so your general fitness goes up. I do think this is right, because of the noticeable improvement in my cycling since I’ve started running – I’ve been cycling on and off since about October last year, and it only improved marginally at the beginning and then plateaued. Since I’ve taken up running, it does definitely feel easier.

Having said all this, it might just be because it’s less windy this time of year....

Also, more importantly, the book points out that you should have rest days during each week, when you have no exercise at all! I think I’ll use my next rest day to order an mp3 player off the web. I think I deserve something to keep me from getting too bored with running and just giving up completely...

Kilicam

2006-06-03T17:54:00.000+01:00

I've found this really great webcam of Kili. Now, whenever you need reminding of where we're going, all you need to do is click here:

http://www.kilicam.com/

Thought-provoking quotations (NOT quotes - thanks, Mr Ingram)

2006-05-28T05:21:00.000+01:00

A few random quotations to inspire us as the ascent of Kilimanjaro next February moves inexorably closer...and as everyday life in 21st century England becomes more and more challenging:

When making your choice in life, do not neglect to live - Samuel Johnson

The world is moving so fast these days that the man who says it can't be done is generally interrupted by someone doing it - Harry Emerson Fosdick

Life's Tragedy is that we get old to soon and wise too late - Benjamin Franklin

Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow - Aesop

You cannot teach a crab to walk straight - Aristophanes

Time you enjoyed wasting is not wasted time - T.S. Elliot

One learns by doing a thing; for though you think you know it, you have no certainty until you try - Sophocles

One sees great things from the valley, only small things from the peak - G. K.Chesterton

There is the risk you cannot afford to take, and there is the risk you cannot afford not to take - Peter Drucker

If you think you are too small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito - Betty Reese

If you keep your mouth shut you will never put your foot in it - Austin O'Malley

What doesn't kill me makes me stronger - Albert Camus

Confidence is preparation. Everything else is beyond your control - Richard Kline

The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes - Marcel Proust

If you are seeking creative ideas, go out walking. Angels whisper to a man when he goes for a walk - Raymond Inmon

World Vision PR machine revs up....and The Amazing Hursts

2006-05-16T01:00:00.000+01:00

The Kili50 fundraising efforts have stalled a bit recently...no excuses, other than work commitments and a pause for breath after the initial surge of enthusiasm! Still, we're up to £1,700 on the challenging road to £25,000 but hopefully it will become a little easier to harangue family, friends and colleagues as the Kili50 attempt gets nearer.

World Vision's PR machine is also revving up, so awareness of the fundraising effort should be gaining a wider audience. Many thanks to Sophia Mwangi at World Vision for putting together and distributing the press releases. Here are a few selected extracts from the finance version sent out to various publications in an effort to piggyback on my Motley Fool connection:

Motley Fool’s Money Man needs £25,000

The Motley Fool UK’s Chief Financial Officer, Andrew Morris, is calling on colleagues in the finance world to sponsor him and his team ‘The Kili 5’ as they attempt to climb Africa’s highest peak Kilimanjaro next February and in the process raise £25,000 for international relief and development agency World Vision’s work in Tanzania.

The Kili 5, which includes Andrew’s wife, Gill, nephew Steven, colleague Jon and Jon’s girlfriend Esther, successfully climbed Mount Snowdon recently in preparation. Between now and February they hope to recruit as many sponsors as possible. ‘I’ve set an ambitious target. So far I’ve raised £1,600 but with nine months still to go, I think some people are holding back until nearer the climb date,’ says Andrew. ‘The sooner anyone can commit to sponsorship the quicker World Vision can channel funds through to the projects in Tanzania,’ he continues.

Andrew, from Surrey, turns 50 next year and felt he needed a fresh challenge to mark this significant anniversary, ‘It’s great to have a target to aim at rather than meander through life. I’m also proving to myself that being on the cusp of 50 doesn’t mean that I’m ready for the pipe and Zimmer frame just yet.’

Hopefully.

The press release has already been picked up by Southern Counties Radio and I'll hopefully be appearing - live! - on the breakfast show at 06:50 next Tuesday, 23rd May. Not sure how many listeners are actually tuned in at that unhealthily early time but it's a very welcome opportunity, and might lead to a regular series of updates and even possibly an audio diary. Watch this space.

Separately, and amazingly, some very old and good friends - Simon & Christine Hurst - have come up with a humbling suggestion. It's their 25th Wedding Anniversary in September this year and they have dreamed up the incredibly generous and selfless idea that they will ask their family and friends to donate to World Vision for the Kili50 cause, rather than give them personal presents.

How great is that! I'm really grateful to them both for the idea, especially as after being their Best Man way back in the history of 1981 we drifted apart a little, thanks to geography, dark-and-stormies, and my lack of communication skills. Again, stay tuned to this blog to see how the Hurst Silver Wedding party turns out.....

£1,700 to £25,000 is a big step but I'm determined to get there before we head for Kili in February next year. Thanks to the fantastic support of people like Sophia, Simon & Christine I'm sure we'll make it.

Please donate by clicking on this link at any time...or on the link on the right hand side. Thanks!

A learning experience...part 2

2006-05-11T22:52:00.000+01:00

With thanks to Mrs M for her inaugural post on my 49th birthday yesterday, and with shameless plagiarism of Esther's great post-Snowdon feedback, here are a few random things that I've discovered in 49 years and a day.....

1. I'm older than I ever thought I would be, but feel younger than I really am

2. With or without Wayne's metatarsal problem we won't repeat 1966

3. It's definitely better to travel than to arrive

4. Spurs are destined never to beat Arsenal again while I'm still alive

5. There is nothing to compare with a good curry

6. It's not just wistful nostalgia...England is falling apart in front of our eyes

7. Work is a necessity, not a pleasure

8. You really do need to carpe diem, grasp the nettle, Go For It before it's too late

9. John Prescott is a complete waste of space. Just like every other politician

10.I haven't discovered much in 49 years and a day

Happy Birthday Andrew!

2006-05-10T13:40:00.000+01:00

So here we are....10th May 2006 - 1 year until Andrew reaches the grand old age of 50 - and the whole reason why he had this crazy idea of climbing some huge mountain and dragging along his long suffering wife and a few mates.

I was sceptical at first. With my poor circulation and a newly mended knee I wasn't sure if I should attempt such a mammoth climb, but I guess there's only one way to find out if I'm up to it....

Much as I love mountains I was harbouring doubts that I'd be able to cope with the altitude. Now I am looking forward to gazing out from the top of Kili across the bewitching African plains below and thinking: 'I've done it, I've conquered the mountain'.

So how can I prepare for the altutude and help prevent the sickness? And how will I know if I've got it? Headache, shortness of breath, malaise, weakness, loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, rapid heartbeat, dizziness.....hopefully I'll spot all those symptoms easily enough!

Apparently, those most at risk are smokers and anyone with an existing heart problem. OK on both of those. I'm a believer in homeopathic medicines and two remedies are suggested: Aconite 6c which can be used to treat the symptoms and Arsenicu Album 6c which can be taken if there's a delay in receiving medical treatment.

Ginkgo Biloba is also thought to help as it boosts the amount of oxygen and other nutrients reaching the brain. I should be taking Ginkgo regularly, anyway, as I suffer from Reynauds disease - where the flow of blood to the extremities is restricted resulting in white, bloodless fingers ("chip fingers" my friend at school called them) and blue lips! I demonstrated very well last week, on our team hike up Snowdon, what happens when Reynauds strikes - I lost all circulation in at least 6 of my fingers through holding onto my walking poles a little too tightly. Not a good start. It took at least 10 minutes to get them back into working order in Wales (the fingers...not the walking poles) - goodness knows how long it will take in freezing conditions 5,895m up Kili. Just as well I've got nine months to sort out my altitude problem...

As far as fitness goes, I'm feeling quietly confident that I'll be ready. Last week proved that even by sitting on my backside all week I can manage a quick sprint (ok, so maybe not that quick...) up a small mountain, so it can't be that difficult.

Can it?

Anyway, Andrew, happy 49th birthday and good luck with your training. You wouldn't want to be beaten by your (younger) wife now, would you?

A learning experience....

2006-05-04T19:43:00.000+01:00

Things that I have learnt from climbing Snowdon:

1. Jon makes truly excellent flapjacks.
2. You should check your digital camera has its batteries charged and its memory card inserted before you start your hike.
3. Wales is really quite beautiful - when the clouds aren't blocking the view.
4. I'm not as unfit as I thought I was.
5. I'm nowhere near as fit as I need to be for Kili.
6. Andy, Gill and Steve will make great hiking buddies on Kili.
7. A good pair of gloves will always come in handy (... as it were...)

I'm sure I'll think of some more later...

Warming up in Wales

2006-05-02T21:30:00.000+01:00

We came...to Mount Snowdon, the highest peak in Wales at 1,085 metres, 3,560 feet in old money.

We saw...well, not a lot of the summit actually, as it was shrouded in clinging Welsh cloud most of the weekend.

We conquered...indeed we did. The Kili 5 successfully scaled Snowdon's western Rhydd Ddu track on the Sunday of the May Day bank holiday. A small step on the Kili ladder, admittedly, but we're definitely in the foothills of our ultimate challenge next February.

What a great weekend. Part fitness measure, part bonding session and part flapjack quality testing, the Kili 5 finally met up for the first time on the doorstep of the Ty Mawr B&B in Rhydd Ddu village, somewhere in Snowdonia National Park. Jon & Eszt arrived via a scary sounding rock climb; Gill, Steve and Andrew after a more demanding than planned warm-up yomp somewhere on the England-Wales border and in unexpectedly sweltering sunshine.

We certainly lucked out with the accommodation. Mine hosts Claire and John welcomed us warmly into their cosy home, fire and blues music flooding the dining room in equal measure. Family portraits and Snowdon memorabilia jostle for your attention with the cake of the day and walking maps .

After checking out the local hostelry and retiring for an ale-fulled early night, we tucked into a Full Monty energising fry-up. Not sure about the impact of bacon, egg, sausage, beans, hash browns and mushrooms on a mountaineer's critical faculties...but it worked for us hungry amateurs.

We started the climb in good spirits and visibility, after navigating our way through the train station car park past the nostalgically chuffing train. We set a steady pace up the lower portion of the beautiful and quiet trail, the village becoming toy-like in the rear-view mirror and grey tarns miraculously beginning to dot the valley floor.

Little and often. A motto for life? In this instance, just frequent breaks for water, breath-catching, nibbles and photo snapping. Besides, we need to get used to a moderated pace, without which we stand no chance of withstanding Kili's 6 days, 5,895 metres and extreme risk of altitude sickness.

Unfortunately, as we hit the Llechog ridge of Mount Snowdon, overlooking Cwm Clogwyn, our heads broke through the cloudy ceiling. Steeper, cooler and murkier...oh well. Wales, April, a mountain - naive to expect otherwise. At least we were dry, apart from the sleet-like drops emanating from the enveloping clouds, as we walked along the edge of plummeting cliffs before zig-zagging up to the South Ridge and across the narrow col of Bwich Main.

We reached the summit after a fairly comfortable 2 1/2 hours. What a disappointment. Trying to get to the symbolic high-point mound was like fighting through bus-loads of foreign students sprawled arount Mount Eros on a hot August day.

Quick couple of pics and phone calls, and we retreated to a precarious but quiet grassy bluff back down the track for something a bit more akin to nature.

Steve's rapidly disappearing blood sugar levels were soon restored too, thanks to Jon's outstanding home-baked flapjack (sorry, Claire and John, but it did outperform yours in the head-to-head taste test) and Steve's heart-pumping lip-smacking reviving hip flask of Mountgay rum. Yah man, we were jammin'. Ty Mawr's amazing value packed lunch - £3.50 for individual butties, a packet of crisps, an apple and flapjack-not-quite-as-good-as-Jon's - completed the recovery process...so much so that we indulged in a bit of a celebratory audio blog in amongst the Snowdon clouds.

We fairly sprinted back down, hopping from ledge to ledge like rejuvenated chamois, enjoying the improving visibility and the different loop back round through the disused slate quarries and towards 3,000 feet Mount Aran that we left for another day. Back down in the glow of Ty Mawr we all succumbed to a couple of hours of R&R, luxuriating in the feeling of aching limbs and satisfied ambitions. We staggered downstairs for an excellent supper and self-congratulatory toasts, and any possible vague flapjack demerit for Claire and John was more than compensated for by the to-die-for bread-butter-and-toffee pudding....with an experimental combo of custard AND ice cream for some, naked for others. If I were the FA I'd be on the phone to Wales now for the secret recipe and I reckon all of Wayne's shattered metatarsals would be healed within a week.

A successful mission for the Kili 5? I hope so. Gill and I are feeling quite smug about our fitness levels...although mine might have taken a retrograde step after that pudding. Jon and Eszt seemed to gain flapjack momentum as the climb progressed. Steve - the youngest - claimed it was all a bit of a slap in the face. I think he means it was a wake up call...but he'll wake up the day before we jet off to Kili and as long as he's got the hip flask full of Mountgay with him, he'll be fine.

Thanks to everyone for making the effort. Fun and interesting weekend, eh? I'll try and post some photos and if anyone else wants to post their version of the weekend, please fire away! And huge thanks to Claire and John for their hospitality and hearty climbers' fare - we really can recommend it as a wonderful base for Snowdon(ia), fry-ups and World Cup winning nosh.

We've got 10 months to work on the Kili details - no problem.....

The Kili 5 live broadcast from Snowdon

2006-04-30T13:37:00.000+01:00

When you're tired of London....

2006-04-05T01:55:00.000+01:00

The Motley Fool moved office in 2004 from near Regent's Park to the more funky and central Kingly Street, on the Soho fringes between revitalised Carnaby Street and the retail opulence of Regent Street.

Since then I've walked to and from Waterloo station most days. Now it's rare that I submit myself to the sweaty claustrophobic confines of the tube: life and fitness have both improved a notch or two, although pavement pounding is not great for the joints as they prepare for the Kili assault in February next year.

It takes me a leisurely 30 minutes each way...or a more focused and knee-pummeling 25 minutes if I'm after a fast start in the office.

In between I savour the sights, smells and sounds of iconic images of our capital city:

the concrete jungle of the South Bank Centre complex, currently under wraps and in the middle of a huge makeover at a cost of gazillions of taxpayers' money. Smacks a bit to me of a lady of a certain age trying to resurrect past glories under the surgeon's knife...but we'll see. How does the saying go? You can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear

the London Eye, a successful contemporary addition to the grey Thames skyline but at odds with the adjacent grandeur of County Hall, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. It looks like a slow-running hairdryer for Gulliver

the twin Hungerford Millennium bridges, spanning the great river between the South Bank concrete slabs and the fume-filled Embankment. Superbly designed, they are things of modern beauty and an oasis of calm amidst the city hubbub. Pause awhile and glance east and west to see the meandering magnificence of the Thames, snaking its languid way through the metropolis. The rigid metal support cables of the bridges stand taut and proud, meeting their colleagues to make a point, like a guard of honour at a posh wedding

Trafalgar Square. Another tranquil spot plonked in the middle of modern mayhem. Nelson is watched over by four supine kings of the urban jungle. I love the Square in the early morning, tourist-free and pigeon-less, the wader-clad cleaner hosing away the detritus of the previous night and netting the coin collection from the dormant fountains before they start up another performance

on to Leicester Square after sneaking through the narrow passage by the Sainsbury Wing of the National Gallery that becomes a skateboarder's clattering hip-hop heaven later in the day. To me Leicester Square has become a tawdry neon-lit sleaze-pit, denigrated by opportunists, drug-crazed dregs of contemporary life and occasionally out of context funfairs. Ugh

Chinatown's distinctive smells seep from the pores of every building and pavement, offputting in the otherwise freshness of a new day. A glance through the emaciated ducks dangling in the grease-caked windows reveals an Oriental face slurping a bowl of breakfast noodles

in Shaftesbury Avenue theatreland's steps are often awash with bubblegum-smelling disinfectant, sluicing down late night bodily functions disgorged long after the final curtain has dropped. Affluent visitors may have returned to the cosy confines of 5* hotels and sedate suburbia, but more desperate people roam the city's streets until dawn and this is their convenience

Soho in early morning is interestingly normal. Kids are tugged down Brewer Street by their impatient Mums on the way to the 9:00 curfew in Little Windmill Street; the fruit and veg hawkers swap banter amongst the beans and bananas in the ageing Berwick Street market; office workers grab a caffeine fix in the ever-expanding empires of Nero, Starbuck and Pret

Golden Square is a hidden Soho gem, tucked discreetly away from its more boisterous street cousins. Affluent media business brass plates surround it, office workers and bike couriers chill out in it and, best of all, the sculpted oversized man dozes in it, knees bent and head resting on a folded sweater, looking upwards into a shaft of London sky between the grey buildings

and finally to Kingly Street, festooned with delivery vans weaving their way towards the back doors of Regent Street's retail bazaars. The narrow pavement is crumbling with the constant infringements, but it's a dark and interesting thoroughfare crammed with dodgy bars, original restaurants and guilt-inducing gyms

Not a bad way to train for Kili, eh? On the level and no altitude challenge, but a small and regular piece of exercise...and with the backdrop of one of the world's great cities to savour every day.

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life

Samuel Johnson

Tortoise and the Hare

2006-04-04T00:32:00.000+01:00

Erm....confession time. This training stuff. The Kili 5 are supposed to be honing every sinew, muscle and other body part into peak condition for our assault on Kilimanjaro next February.

I had really good intentions, honest. Even rejoined the gym and had a fitness programme written especially for me.

But after the epic Holloway Hill x 50 effort my calves and hamstrings tightened up like a 6th form debater's nerves before the final of a big competition. And I didn't want to risk anything pinging on the treadmill before zooming off to the piste for our annual pilgrimage in search of powder, vin chaud and poulet et frites.

Before we hit the slopes I saw the physio about these tight old muscles. See, I wasn't joking. Aussie Steve from Bevan Wilson, operating from Charterhouse gym. What a nice guy, for an Antipodean, and a really good physio. He helped me out last year with a chronic back problem and has a knack of relating the affliction to the science of the body, but in a simple idiot-friendly way. Just don't let him loose on you during an Ashes series...especially when we're actually winning for once.

This time around he took me to task for the state of my 1980s trainers. Pointed out that there wasn't actually a lot of tread left on them, which certainly wasn't helping the matter at hand, as it were. He recommended going to a specialist running shoe place called the Tortoise and the Hare, over at Smithbrook Kilns near Cranleigh.

So off I finally trotted - well, hobbled - last Saturday, after realising that just walking to work on London concrete was actually quite painful. All my life I've just popped down the local Clarke's and picked up a pair of old Dunlop Green Flash. But even before I sat down the Tortoise, or perhaps it was the Hare, had seen that I was collapsing my arches, or something, and was wearing away a particular part of the shoe much quicker than the rest. Amazing.

20 minutes of enlightening personal attention later I was the proud, if impoverished, owner of 2 shiny new pairs of trainers costing £126. For both, not each. After a cannily negotiated 10% discount too, and as soon as I had checked that I could top up my mortgage. One for the gym resurrection and one for my city pavement pounding. But they fit like a glove, or something equally snug and comforting, and hopefully will get me back on track for the Kili50 challenge next February. Slow and steady wins the race, after all.

Vive les rosbifs

2006-03-28T22:21:00.000+01:00

Mrs M and I have just returned from a spot of high altitude training in the French Alps. OK, so there were some skis involved, a lot more snow than we'll see on Kili and the alcohol intake will be banned next February....but it still qualifies as training, right?

Anyway, it confirmed our continuing love affair with mountains, regardless of condition or season. We were in Les Arcs, based at 1,950m but skiing as high as 3,200m. There was more snow than you could shake a ski pole at before we arrived, and then there were huge additional dumps while we were out there.

Beautiful? You decide....

We covered loads of ground, experienced extremes of bright warm sunshine and perfect blue skies one day and intense blizzards with minimal visibility the next; guzzled vin chaud, rouge, rose et blanc, chocolat chaud, genepi and cafe au lait; noshed poulet frites, foie gras and freshly baked bread from the aromatic boulangerie in the village; represented les rosbifs in defeating the Ernst & Young France darts team in the local pub.

A great week at altitude but somewhat more luxurious and refined than the rigorous effort and deprivation we'll have to suffer going up Kili. Oh well, c'est la vie, as we say in England.

Holloway Hill x 50

2006-03-14T23:40:00.000Z

How did you spend your Saturday? Hopefully not quite as strenuously as Mrs M and I did....

Somewhat bizarrely I'd volunteered to walk up and down Holloway Hill, a picturesque but naggingly demanding incline on the southern side of Godalming. 50 times.

Why? It just seemed like a "fun" fundraising idea to highlight in the article that we were lucky enough to have published in the Godalming Times last week. Thanks to Beverley Woolford we ended up covering most of the front page, clutching our Kili guide books and sporting our distinctive World Vision t-shirts.

Mrs M was a little shocked to see in print "the couple will start the climb at 11:00.." but she didn't back down. Thanks Gill.

And spot on the appointed hour we started climbing, orange World Vision collecting tin, Kili50 fliers, convincing story and encouraging smiles at the ready. Fuel, in the shape of bananas, water and mountains of cereal bars, was stashed in the nearby motor.

I'd thrown together a couple of Holloway Hill-o-meter lap counters, which we Blu-tacked to the faded HH road sign at the bottom and pinned to a sturdy tree trunk at the top, just after the vicious camber on St. Hilary's school drive.

Ticking off each ascent and descent turned out to be a critical motivational tool - it's much easier to focus on the next 5 laps, or getting to the half way point, than just to imagine the whole painful 50 stretching out in front of you.

We also quickly realised that we wouldn't both have time to accost each passer by AND complete the challenge. Somehow I got the climbing duties and Mrs M focused on the fundraising, using her feminine wiles and selling skills to maximum effect.

We completed the 50th lap at 5:30 so, after a quick 30 minute pit stop at home for reviving rib-sticking soup after the half time whistle, the whole climb took 6 hours. Yikes.

I reckon it was 15 miles in total, constantly pounding up and down on joint-punishing tarmac and concrete. And according to our friend Jimbo's hi-tec watch, 30m of ascent each lap, so 1,500m in total.

Kili is 5,895 high and with our Machame route starting at 1,800m, we'll be ascending 4,000m. So on Saturday Gill and I climbed about 40% of what we'll need to next February if we get to the top of Kili. Not quite the same risk of altitude sickness in Godalming, granted, and we didn't see any Colobus monkeys...but quite satisfying nevertheless. And knackering.

Thanks to generous Godalmingers we raised the grand total of £96.50 - and a dodgy Swedish coin. Not a huge amount but another small step towards the £25,000 summit, and not bad considering it was a cold grey English winter's day.

We were blown away by the extent of everyone's generosity, awareness and interest, helped no doubt by the Godalming Times article. Kids gave up pocket money, oldsters who have struggled up HH for years surrendered much-needed change, and more affluent walkers folded up notes and tried to squeeze them into the tiny slot (note to World Vision: please make it bigger!). Several people drove by in their cars just because they had read about us, and passed some dosh through the window as they rode the clutch on the steep incline. Perhaps England isn't quite a lost cause after all...

Post mortem? Gill - back and knee twinges; slight feeling of being railroaded. Me - calves, shins and soles all screaming, but mollified by a cup of tea and a Cadbury's cream egg while luxuriating in a hot bath.

Our Hill-o-meter is still nailed to the tree at the top of HH, with a tired scribbled note of thanks to the generous people of Godalming.

Crazy? Definitely. But rewarding.

The Kili 5 do Wales

2006-03-09T00:27:00.000Z

The Kili 5 are finally meeting up. We're off to Wales for a bit of light training over the May Day bank holiday. At 3,580 feet high Mount Snowdon is some way short of Kili's 19,710....but about right for our current early stages of fitness (translates as: we're all really struggling with this motivation thing and a few thousand feet of Wales is going to push us to the limit)

No worries - just under a year to go to, by which time we'll all be finely tuned, like Thierry Henry on steroids

We're staying in a little B&B a few miles from Snowdon. We'll have a cholesterol special fry-up to see us on the way and a stream of goodies to munch and guzzle throughout the climb, followed by a bonding dinner and a few pints. Sounds healthy, eh? Well, I've always subscribed to the effort and reward philosophy

We'll try and post an audio-blog from the top of Snowdon - if we make it - so stay tuned as the Kili 5 take their first tentative steps en route to Kilimanjaro in February 2007

Blog World and Passionate Dale

2006-03-04T00:06:00.000Z

WOW! How cool is this blogging lark?

There I was, surfing a few other blogs in my lunch break for inspiration and entertainment...and in amongst the weird, incomplete, confusing and downright scary - EUREKA! I stumbled upon Dale's world, aka Passion Of The Dale ...geddit?

And a couple of articles and the language and imagery and stuff...well, they immediately hook me. So I drop him a comment, just like you can do at the bottom of this article, and say:

Dale. I like your style...sincere, open, genuine. You obviously love mornings, life and people (not, by the way)

And then late on Friday night, after curry, beer, coffee, the ironing, Ray (how good a movie is that) , and drooling over the posh properties in the Surrey Ad, I finally check out emails. This guy who I only met today via Blog world, who lives somewhere in Canada and seems a bit, well, cynical...he's only gone and donated some dosh to our Kili cause and World Vision. And he's left a comment at the bottom of my blog article Mr Insomnia and Mrs Sleepy :

Andrew, you strike me as a little diabolical. First you compliment me on my caustic (half) wit and then you make me check out your blog. Okay, maybe I did that all on my own. I put away my crusty geezer persona for a few minutes and read through what you and your team are planning. Of course I know there are people out there who are willing to make a difference in the world, but it's just so nice to read about and see something like your plan in action. Best wishes to you and your team. Great blog entries so far. Oh, and lay off the hot chocolate you fool, what d'ya think is keeping you awake? Dale

Can I say it again? WOW!

Thanks, Dale. You've made my night. Really. The world isn't such a bad place after all. At least this Blog World is pretty amazing. Cruise around a bit and I promise you will find some enlightening, interesting, engaging and downright thrilling stuff...if you look hard enough. Not here, obviously, but try Passion Of The Dale for starters and then just scroll through the NEXT BLOG>> icon at the top right of the Blog page...trust me

Mr Insomnia and Mrs Sleepy

2006-03-02T03:40:00.000Z

Hope I sleep better than tonight on the way up Kilimanjaro this time next year. We're going to need all the energy we can muster, and a sleepless night on the mountain is only going to reduce the odds of a successful summit attempt

Insomnia:

Want of sleep; inability to sleep; wakefulness; sleeplessness

Difficulty in getting to sleep, esp. as a persistent problem

Habitual sleeplessness

Inability to sleep, in the absence of external impediments, such as noise, a bright light, etc., during the period when sleep should normally occur; may vary in degree from restlessness or disturbed slumber to a curtailment of the normal length of sleep or to absolute wakefulness

That last one is from Stedman's Online Medical Dictionary (27th Edition)....just in case you didn't recognise the definition

No idea why tonight's so bad...but I've followed the usual routine - trying every possible pillow and body position for an hour; hot chocolate sipping and biscuit chomping frenzy; mindless zapping of the Sky remote; random surfing of the internet - and I'm

still

W----I----D----E

awake

Gill, on the other hand, has no such problems. I can imagine her sleeping through the summit attempt and waking up mid-morning, refreshed and bouncy, as we all stagger back from the epic midnight start, exhausted, sleep-deprived and nauseous with altitude sickness

Did I miss anything? Anyone fancy a bacon butty?

Narcolepsy:

A condition characterized by frequent, brief, and uncontrollable bouts of deep sleep, sometimes accompanied by hallucinations and an inability to move

A medical condition which makes you go to sleep suddenly and unexpectedly

Condition marked by short fits of heavy sleep

Come to think of it, Gill's sleep patterns are deep...but certainly not short. Once asleep that's her, gone until the alarm goes off or the world ends

I'm just envious, Mrs M. How wonderful to be able to flick a mental switch and know with absolute certainty that every night you're going to get a quality 8 hours of zeds

But don't worry, I'll make sure you're awake for summit day. It will be worth it....trust me

A year and counting.....

2006-02-23T23:19:00.000Z

February 23. A year from today The Kili 5 will be jumping on a BA flight bound for Tanzania's Mount Kilimanjaro airport via Addis Ababa in Ethiopia.

Seems like plenty of time, right? But just think back to what you were doing on February 23, 2005.....and you'll realise how quickly 12 months can disappear.

What's to do?

Get fit...and stay fit
Climb Mount Snowdon - scheduled for the May Day bank holiday as a bit of light training and also the first time The Kili 5 will have all met up
Raise £25,000 for World Vision....£1,376 down and £23,624 to go
Remember to leave some headspace for normal life - this whole Kili thing is already beginning to take over my life
Nearer the time get kitted out. Gill and I did impulse buy summit assault balaclavas in the Milton Keynes snowdome on Tuesday...and no, we weren't anywhere near the Securitas depot in Kent on Wednesday. Honest, guv

Other than that I think we're there...piece of cake, eh?

Tanzania via Milton Keynes

2006-02-22T22:48:00.000Z

If the truth be told it wouldn't be my first choice for a day's holiday, but on Tuesday this week Gill and I made the pilgrimage to Milton Keynes around the M25 and up the M1

Why? To visit World Vision HQ. I set up this blog to chart progress of The Kili 5's attempt on Kili in February 2007, and also to try and raise £25,000 for this very worthwhile charity

For the last few weeks I've been in touch with Peter Halewood, the major donor (funds rather than organs) executive at World Vision, and he kindly invited us up to talk through some ideas to generate interest and to find out more about how and where any funds will go

We're looking to help out the Kisiriri area in central Tanzania. Infant mortality rate? 104 out of every 1,000. Average life expectancy? About 43 years. Poor? The average annual income in this district is US$140. So if we can hit the £25,000 target that would represent about 300 years of income for 1 person. Imagine what they could do with that sort of relative wealth

Here's a summary of a few elements of the World Vision Project Plan for the community from October 2006 to September 2007:

Education:

Facilitate 170 workshops to educate children on HIV/AIDS and malaria
Construct 6 classrooms and 3 teachers' offices (currently there are 2 secondary schools in the community for 469 pupils)
Support 200 orphans and vulnerable children with uniforms and school materials

Health:

Train 38 village workers, 20 traditional healers and 38 birth attendants on HIV/AIDS and malaria awareness
Construct 2 staff quarters
Purchase 200 insecticide-treated nets

Agriculture:

Train 20 focus group farmers on improved farming methods
Provide farmers with good quality seeds (eg sunflower and millet)

Income Generation:

Provide training on business skills to potential working groups
Provide small loans for people to set up businesses

Leadership Development:

Conduct community committee meeting and workshops on HIV/AIDS and malaria
Conduct village leaders' meetings on budgeting
Construct a training centre

As I mentioned in a previous article World Vision take a long term view of the problems facing a community like Kisiriri, and look to provide them with the tools and knowledge to improve their own lives, rather than just throw money at a short term fix. World Vision's input into the Kisiriri Area Development Programme is planned to last for 15 years

We also met Sophia Mwangi, the charity's really helpful PR guru who will hopefully pull out all the stops to spread the Kili50 word for us. Sophia's Kenyan husband's grandfather lives on the northern slopes of Kili. If we were doing the Rongai route we could have dropped in for a cuppa....

Many thanks to everyone at World Vision for their hospitality, generosity of spirit - and t-shirts!

We're looking forward to working with you to raise the £25,000 for the Kisiriri community as a small measure of our thanks for allowing us to enjoy (if that proves to be the right word) the majesty of Tanzania's Mount Kilimanjaro

And please click here or here to contribute if any of this has struck a chord