Kili 2016, The Journey Begins

Day 1 – A rocky start. 

Ice and Snow. Probably not the first adjectives on the list when one conjures up thoughts of Africa. However it is with ice and snow that the tale of my first intercontinental adventure starts and very nearly ended too.

  As our team of 3 sat in BHX airport awaiting our departure the mood was electric, the tearful goodbyes were now a distant memory. Simon, Grandad and I were already two, possibly 3 beers down and I was struggling to contain my excitement at the thought of touching down in Africa a few hours later. But unbeknownst to me in between now and then would be an event that very nearly derailed our entire trip.

 The snow was not particularly heavy, however as is usually the case with the UK it was causing chaos at the airport. The flight board was lit up red as delays began to roll in. Not too much mind was paid however as our first leg to Amsterdam was running on schedule and even then we had a 3 hour connection window to JRO Kilimanjaro International.

  We boarded the plane on time in the early hours of the morning, after some jostling we found our seats and settled in for the quick hop over to AMS. It wasn’t long however until the pilots voice came crackling over the intercom announcing that we were to be delayed on blocks awaiting de-icing, looking out of the window the snow had all but stopped yet here we were waiting to be doused with antifreeze, to make matters worse we had been added to the end of an already long queue of flights waiting for the same treatment. We sat in our seats and watched as the minute hand completed a revolution of its face and our wide connection window was slowly eroded.

  After what seemed like an age we were given the green light for take-off, total delay was 140 minutes, leaving us only 40 minutes to sprint the length of AMS airport to catch our connecting flight. What should have been an exciting flight was spent in angst and the cabin crew’s attempts to ensure us of our, and our bags connection did little to reassure. We landed in AMS and our trio was given priority departure from the plane, clutching our 20l hand luggage we began the frantic rush across the airport. Flight boards reminding us periodically that our JRO flight was on final call and we were still a 15 minute walk from the gate.

  As we approached the now empty waiting area we were greeted and ushered though the gate by a waiting air hostess who informed us that we were just in time, as we made our way into the cabin we were greeted by several hundred disgruntled faces, I paid little attention though as my excitement had returned knowing that from here on it should be smooth sailing. My elation didn’t last long as a few hours into the long flight down the globe we were awoken to be told that although we had made the connection, our baggage has been left stranded in AMS and would not be able to catch up to us until the following evenings flight. My heart sank as I realised that once we had landed in Tanzania we would have only a few hours before our trip up into the shadow of Kilimanjaro… we would have to complete the first days of our trek using only the items we had in our hand luggage.

  I tried to get some sleep for the rest of the flight but to no avail, we touched down in JRO and the mood was sombre. We were greeted by a surprised trip representative who remarked about how light we were travelling. He assured us with the words “Hakuna Matata” and promised to take us to the local market first think in the morning to buy as many essential supplies as we could. As we travelled down the dirt tracks and broken asphalt I tried to push the negative thoughts from my mind and took in the views of the night. Dirtbikes swerved in and out, darting between groups of people carrying or pushing carts full of wares after a day’s trading, locals relaxed outside shop fronts drinking beer and enjoying the cool evening temperatures.

We arrived at our hotel and checked in to the room, a sparsely decorated but comfortable room with an open veranda looking out on the local town of Moshi below. It was time to make a plan.

  I laid out the few possessions that had made it to Africa with me, they consisted of: A small daysack, 1 pair each of socks and underwear, a map of the Kilimanjaro national park, a baseball cap, and a thin woollen blanket complete with a ‘DO NOT REMOVE FROM AIRCRAFT’ swiped from the plane. I hastily made a list of items that would be critical and headed out into town to see if there was anyone still willing to sell me some equipment. I managed to buy a water bottle, some sun lotion, and a sun faded sleeping bag that cost almost as much as our night in the hotel. Feeling satisfied I wandered into a local bar and ordered myself a bottle of Kilimanjaro beer, as I allowed myself to relax I studied the label showing a silhouette of the mountain and thought to myself “In a weeks’ time I will be stood on top of that”.

  It was a restless night for both Grandad and I as we lay awake in anticipation for what the morning would bring.