tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84948331287047881522024-03-13T23:28:47.485-07:00SideStix™Designed to go far...Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-75538679077256619372009-08-10T17:01:00.000-07:002009-08-10T17:17:10.404-07:00SideStix Blog has MOVED!<a href="http://www.sidestix.com/sidestix-journal.html"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SoC2FJMBD8I/AAAAAAAAFc0/WfD7dYS-mN0/s320/Web+Logo+-+Modified+by+Kerith+-+with+fade.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368490955307552706" /></a>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-65359745064856188942009-02-11T07:26:00.000-08:002009-02-15T13:41:30.473-08:00On Safari...After a day of recuperation at the Marangu Hotel, we were ready for our next adventure – safari in the Serengeti & Ngorongoro Crater.<br />6:30am saw us ‘wide-eyed’, but not very ‘bushy-tailed’, sitting on piles of luggage, waiting for the pick-up vehicle from 'Bush Explorers' the safari tour-operator we had selected. And so came the first entry on a long list of disappointments that continued till the very end of the safari. 6:45, 7am, 7:15 and still no show. A call to the company had at least assured us that our deposit hadn’t disappeared into the ‘ether’, but “soon come” was small recompense for unnecessarily lost sleep. At 7:30am an aging green Toyota van creaked into the hotel courtyard, and after many assurances that this wasn’t the safari vehicle, just transport to the vehicle, we climbed in and set off.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLvo_gnR8I/AAAAAAAADbo/iJLAT2LlADc/s1600-h/DSC_8536.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLvo_gnR8I/AAAAAAAADbo/iJLAT2LlADc/s320/DSC_8536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301563198890526658" border="0" /></a><br />Lunch at the 'Vehicle Exchange'.<br /><br />After about 4 hours of driving, we pulled into a campsite close to Lake Manyara. This was to be the lunch stop, and vehicle exchange, however it transpired that the cook was IN the vehicle we were supposed to be meeting, and when, half an hour later it showed up, loaded with 5 returning tourists, we realised that this particular ‘flight crew’ was going to be pulling a double shift!<br />With lunch over, and the jeep packed we were asked to make full payment for the safari before leaving. This was unexpected, and since our confidence level was at an all-time low we were hesitant to comply. This resulted in a heated discussion that went around in circles and could have lasted longer than the safari itself, however we asked the returning tourists about their experience. They were generally positive, and this gave us enough confidence for us to ‘throw caution to the wind’. We counted out the remaining balance, got an official looking receipt (and almost asked for finger prints...) and then departed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLwqlFwX1I/AAAAAAAADbw/oywH7oCcN6U/s1600-h/DSC_8601.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLwqlFwX1I/AAAAAAAADbw/oywH7oCcN6U/s320/DSC_8601.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301564325669920594" border="0" /></a><br />Ellen & Susan in the Jeep.<br /><br />5 hours later we entered the Serengeti National park. (4 hours of driving plus 1 hour for the driver to settle the park bill from the previous safari!) The plains stretched out to the horizon in all directions, an endless sea of brown grass with the merest hint of green. The idea that this could support life was incredible, however as we drove further in to the park, we passed herd after herd of small black-streaked Thompson Gazelles, interspersed with almost theatrically grotesque Wart Hogs.<br />As the evening shadows grew longer we had one of the most magical and defining moments of the safari. Three cheetahs were lying next to the ‘road’ (translated: graded gravel track.) They lay on a slight mound, looking out at the Thompson Gazelles in the distance, hardly glancing at us as we clicked & gasped in equal proportions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLyscentCI/AAAAAAAADb4/3Y2Jae0WOGM/s1600-h/Cheetahs+on+mound.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLyscentCI/AAAAAAAADb4/3Y2Jae0WOGM/s320/Cheetahs+on+mound.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301566556741284898" border="0" /></a><br />Cheetahs on the mound.<br /><br />Suddenly one of them tensed; sat up, then in unison they all sprang up and glided off through the grass, with an effortless mile-eating lope. Whatever prey they had spotted was certainly indistinguishable to us and before long both cheetahs and gazelles were mere specks in a shifting savanna sea.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLz5S1dDsI/AAAAAAAADcA/4fzwYr6Abos/s1600-h/Cheetah+-+close+up.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZLz5S1dDsI/AAAAAAAADcA/4fzwYr6Abos/s320/Cheetah+-+close+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301567877002628802" border="0" /></a><br />Cheetah spies it's prey.<br /><br />Still glowing from this spectacular encounter, we carried on, only to stop a short while later at another amazing sight. A pride of lions were guarding a partially eaten water buffalo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZOvl__QrzI/AAAAAAAADcI/jQiHSMvhnaU/s1600-h/Lion+with+hyena.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZOvl__QrzI/AAAAAAAADcI/jQiHSMvhnaU/s320/Lion+with+hyena.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301774253711994674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hyenas paced nearby – close enough to smell the kill, yet far enough to stay out of harm's way.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO5bewgUiI/AAAAAAAADdA/oMJ2wdT9ifE/s1600-h/DSC_8664.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO5bewgUiI/AAAAAAAADdA/oMJ2wdT9ifE/s320/DSC_8664.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Vultures kept vigil in a nearby tree.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO50hFP0eI/AAAAAAAADdI/iGR_zVs1g4s/s1600-h/DSC_8641.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO50hFP0eI/AAAAAAAADdI/iGR_zVs1g4s/s320/DSC_8641.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />With the setting sun providing a spectacular backdrop, we arrived at our camp site. We pitched our tents, ate supper and took a somewhat nervous sojourn to the bathroom (very cognoscente of the fact that there was no barrier between us and the ‘slavering beasts of Africa’!) Sleep came rapidly, punctuated only by the occasional grunts & howls which sounded much nearer & more menacing than they really were.<p></p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO4COby6qI/AAAAAAAADcw/R6wOp4icjc8/s1600-h/DSC_8709.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZO4COby6qI/AAAAAAAADcw/R6wOp4icjc8/s320/DSC_8709.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Next morning we ate breakfast in our ‘dining cage’ – the wire mesh ostensibly there to keep the wild animals away from our scrambled eggs – however the image of ‘feeding time in the hamster cage’ was not lost on us!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s8YclGI/AAAAAAAADeY/5VV6ABinVmQ/s1600-h/dining+cage.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s8YclGI/AAAAAAAADeY/5VV6ABinVmQ/s320/dining+cage.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303048706979566690" /></a><br /><br />The plan for ‘Day-2’ was an all-day game drive. Victor had prepared boxed lunches for us and shortly before 9am we were off.<br /><br />A pair of majestic giraffe provided us with our first photo op. They move with utter grace, which belies their awkward form.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5R7q22HI/AAAAAAAADfs/hrh8uKj6Smo/s1600-h/giraffs.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5R7q22HI/AAAAAAAADfs/hrh8uKj6Smo/s320/giraffs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051541466765426" /></a><br /><br />Then came another magical moment of the safari. A female leopard and her cub were walking close to the edge of the track.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5S1E0pZI/AAAAAAAADgM/o7YL2JULyVU/s1600-h/leopards+-+1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5S1E0pZI/AAAAAAAADgM/o7YL2JULyVU/s320/leopards+-+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051556876494226" /></a><br /><br />We followed them for at least half an hour, watching their interactions. At one point they walked right past the jeep, brushing the wheels, so we looked straight down on their backs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg971szvVI/AAAAAAAADgU/tFZ-7tgmkAo/s1600-h/leopards+-+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg971szvVI/AAAAAAAADgU/tFZ-7tgmkAo/s320/leopards+-+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303056659465354578" /></a><br /><br />With the smallest of reaches, we could have stroked them (and no doubt lost our hands!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg97_hDYiI/AAAAAAAADgc/F7ZcB8yLSls/s1600-h/leopards+-+3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg97_hDYiI/AAAAAAAADgc/F7ZcB8yLSls/s320/leopards+-+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303056662100402722" /></a><br /><br />Although it’s hard to imagine that any sighting could be significant after such a display, in fact everything we saw added to the intricate mosaic of the Serengeti. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TOiLXAI/AAAAAAAADhM/8NksLE7uN6s/s1600-h/wart+hog.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TOiLXAI/AAAAAAAADhM/8NksLE7uN6s/s320/wart+hog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303057061268642818" /></a><br /><br />From the comical wart-hog,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s_qvGvI/AAAAAAAADeI/tIe-OXs74BA/s1600-h/cranes.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s_qvGvI/AAAAAAAADeI/tIe-OXs74BA/s320/cranes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303048707861584626" /></a><br /><br />to soaring cranes,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98XX1A0I/AAAAAAAADg0/qYor1E7HWDw/s1600-h/pride+of+lions.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98XX1A0I/AAAAAAAADg0/qYor1E7HWDw/s320/pride+of+lions.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303056668504163138" /></a><br /><br />prides of lion,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-SmIrXqI/AAAAAAAADhE/Le-ZPDw2Zgk/s1600-h/starling.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-SmIrXqI/AAAAAAAADhE/Le-ZPDw2Zgk/s320/starling.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303057050424270498" /></a><br /><br />to dazzling starlings, each had their part to play.<br /><br /><br />In their incessant search for greener pastures, the wildebeest and zebras slowly migrate in a circular path around the 15,000 square Kms that make up the Serengeti. We watched countless thousands as young & old, they moved slowly across the landscape – as unstoppable as the tide.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TbyhtWI/AAAAAAAADhc/gsf2r51k6aU/s1600-h/zebras.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TbyhtWI/AAAAAAAADhc/gsf2r51k6aU/s320/zebras.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303057064826877282" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98NjAeyI/AAAAAAAADgs/Ed_2P9awvkg/s1600-h/migration.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98NjAeyI/AAAAAAAADgs/Ed_2P9awvkg/s320/migration.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303056665866697506" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TXrIksI/AAAAAAAADhU/ltJbi2AqsZA/s1600-h/wildebeest+-+running.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 70px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-TXrIksI/AAAAAAAADhU/ltJbi2AqsZA/s320/wildebeest+-+running.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303057063722128066" /></a><br /><br />Another unstoppable force on the Serengeti is the elephant. We pulled over at the sight of an approaching heard, revelling in the grace and gentle beauty of these giants.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43Ec6HFI/AAAAAAAADfU/LwLWE6uYxvQ/s1600-h/elephants+-+1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 66px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43Ec6HFI/AAAAAAAADfU/LwLWE6uYxvQ/s320/elephants+-+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051079967710290" /></a><br /><br />They stopped a mere 30 meters away, shifting from foot to foot, waving their fan-like ears and ripping up the occasional trunk-full of grass. It seems they were waiting for us to move, because we were parked in their (unmarked) path, and although there was flat ground around us (all the way to the horizon,) Africa is theirs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43nZcYBI/AAAAAAAADfc/nvrBOY1xwiM/s1600-h/elephants+-+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43nZcYBI/AAAAAAAADfc/nvrBOY1xwiM/s320/elephants+-+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051089348419602" /></a><br /><br />We backed up and moments later the herd moved on, from ancient matriarch to tiny calves, a grey, mud encrusted sea of gentle power.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43wP4B0I/AAAAAAAADfk/ztB7TrxPkLg/s1600-h/elephants+-+3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43wP4B0I/AAAAAAAADfk/ztB7TrxPkLg/s320/elephants+-+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051091724207938" /></a><br /><br />One of the joys of being on safari at this time of year is the incredible number of young we saw. Every species seemed to have birthed within the previous few weeks and in the case of one hippo, we are convinced that we witnessed the actual birth!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5R8I1lHI/AAAAAAAADf0/JTWxf74fBPA/s1600-h/hippo+birth.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5R8I1lHI/AAAAAAAADf0/JTWxf74fBPA/s320/hippo+birth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051541592511602" /></a><br /><br />From amazing sights to amazing coincidences... as we were driving along, a vehicle passed us, and Susan suddenly shouted out, “MARY!” She had seen (and more incredibly, recognized!) our friends from Kilimanjaro. We called out “simama”( which means Stop!) to Chas, and both jeeps slid to a halt and backed up. In all of the Serengeti, we just happened to be on the same track as Mary, Shabeena & John, and it turned out that they too were heading for the Ngorongoro Crater the following day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98JYZdOI/AAAAAAAADgk/j-L0Az0dZe8/s1600-h/M,+S+%26+J.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg98JYZdOI/AAAAAAAADgk/j-L0Az0dZe8/s320/M,+S+%26+J.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303056664748455138" /></a><br /><br />'Day-2’ came to a close under another gorgeous setting sun and we returned to the camp site for supper and a welcome sleep.<br /><br /><br />The plan for ‘Day-3’ was a morning game drive, followed by lunch at the camp site. We would then pack the vehicle and head off to the Ngorongoro Crater. So after breakfast we set out, however before hunting for game, we had to hunt for water, because it seemed that Robb, the owner of the tour company had neglected to purchase enough water for us (even though our contract said we should have 3L each per day!) 1L for 4 people in the African sun was just not enough, so we went to a local ‘watering hole’ (bar!) and bought up all their water.<br /><br /><br />After the water excursion, Chas (the driver) took us to a couple of Hippo-hangouts. One of which featured dead hippos and komodo dragons and a stench that was beyond belief!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s9QQjJI/AAAAAAAADeQ/A4gUgwXiPR4/s1600-h/dead+hippo.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2s9QQjJI/AAAAAAAADeQ/A4gUgwXiPR4/s320/dead+hippo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303048707213659282" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5SReZ61I/AAAAAAAADgE/_o-FabzWTxI/s1600-h/komodo+dragon.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5SReZ61I/AAAAAAAADgE/_o-FabzWTxI/s320/komodo+dragon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051547320118098" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5SDEp36I/AAAAAAAADf8/ZYhhRoT-mS8/s1600-h/hippo+in+pool.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg5SDEp36I/AAAAAAAADf8/ZYhhRoT-mS8/s320/hippo+in+pool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051543454015394" /></a><br /><br />Leaving the hippos to their ‘various & varied’ activities we returned to camp for lunch.<br /><br /><br />The drive to the Ngorongoro took about 4 hours and although we took several side-tracks looking for game, we were unsuccessful. We needn’t have worried though, because the wild-life was waiting for us at the Ngorongoro camp site!<br /><br />Shortly after we arrived, there was a commotion in the jungle behind the cook house. Two bull elephants were fighting (in a slow-motion sort of way!) Of course I was right in there with my camera, so much so that a guide yelled out to me to get out of there, because if they should change their interest to me, there was no way I could out-run them!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg42mUTHPI/AAAAAAAADfE/7SWlPsXeFN8/s1600-h/elephant+fight.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg42mUTHPI/AAAAAAAADfE/7SWlPsXeFN8/s320/elephant+fight.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051071878536434" /></a><br /><br /><br />The vanquished bull ambled off into the jungle and the victor then turned to the camp and started walking straight towards us!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43CIzVcI/AAAAAAAADfM/1kwliGzfUZU/s1600-h/elephant+into+camp.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg43CIzVcI/AAAAAAAADfM/1kwliGzfUZU/s320/elephant+into+camp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303051079346509250" /></a><br /><br />This obviously caused a little excitement among the on-lookers... and a little trepidation in Sarah, because at that precise moment, her other SideStix broke in exactly the same place as the one on the mountain!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2smU8dlI/AAAAAAAADeA/0HMtapQ0kYs/s1600-h/broken+crutch.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2smU8dlI/AAAAAAAADeA/0HMtapQ0kYs/s320/broken+crutch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303048701059298898" /></a><br /><br />It soon became clear that this ‘rampaging bull’ was in fact just on a daily pilgrimage to its watering hole – which happened to be the cook-house water-storage tank!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2tGrHPZI/AAAAAAAADeg/5PQl4hh8hBg/s1600-h/elephant+drinking.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg2tGrHPZI/AAAAAAAADeg/5PQl4hh8hBg/s320/elephant+drinking.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303048709742214546" /></a><br /><br />As we didn’t have enough clamps to make another crutch repair, I became Sarah’s ‘right-hand-man’ for the rest of the Safari.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-SfsuoLI/AAAAAAAADg8/dhRv_nlqGHM/s1600-h/right+hand+man.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZg-SfsuoLI/AAAAAAAADg8/dhRv_nlqGHM/s320/right+hand+man.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303057048696430770" /></a><br /><br />We settled down for the night in our little dome tents, very conscious of the fact that there was at least one elephant out there who felt very ‘at home’ in this particular campsite!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF1mrxsuI/AAAAAAAADi0/eKKOUafNdQw/s1600-h/tents+under+tree.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF1mrxsuI/AAAAAAAADi0/eKKOUafNdQw/s320/tents+under+tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135717192479458" /></a><br /><br />At around 2am I was awoken by a snuffling, scrabbling noise, and the tent was shaking slightly. Switching on my head-light, I saw Sarah’s SideStix (the good one!) disappearing under the flysheet. Lunging forward, I grabbed it and jerked it backwards & forwards – in an attempt to scare off the perpetrator (which I assumed was a monkey.) The commotion awoke Sarah, and as I described the foiled heist, I unzipped the top of the fly sheet, and peaked out – to see 2 hyenas disappearing into the shadows behind the adjacent tree! I have no idea what they would have done with a prototype sports crutch, however it seems that scavenging in the hyena world is not limited to edible matter.<br /><br />A further pre-dawn interruption, involving heavy breathing, snorting and strange ripping sounds transpired, (upon peaking out of the tent top-vent) to be the massive horned head of a Cape Buffalo, daintily ‘mowing’ the grass between our guy-ropes.<br /><br />‘Day – 4’. The Ngorongoro game drive was only going to be a half day as there would still be a 4 hour drive to get back to Moshi. Our safari contract had indicated that we would eat a boxed lunch in the crater, thereby maximizing our time with the game, however there wasn’t suitable food left for this (another organizational ‘strike’ against the Bush Explorer outfit) so we would have to return to the campsite by noon, for a hot lunch and a speedy departure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZcLZYAI/AAAAAAAADic/BiLNokqlTbw/s1600-h/pic+of+crater.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZcLZYAI/AAAAAAAADic/BiLNokqlTbw/s320/pic+of+crater.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135233335975938" /></a><br /><br />The crater is about 600m deep and covers an area of 260 Sq.Km. It contains an estimated 25,000 animals which live in the varied terrain, comprising highlands, bushlands and grasslands.<br /><br />There was also a lot of dust!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF1zE0mCI/AAAAAAAADi8/mgU2DM5G_FI/s1600-h/trucks+in+dust.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF1zE0mCI/AAAAAAAADi8/mgU2DM5G_FI/s320/trucks+in+dust.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135720518752290" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDJpsZxI/AAAAAAAADh0/kI3KvkVeadY/s1600-h/dust+masks.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDJpsZxI/AAAAAAAADh0/kI3KvkVeadY/s320/dust+masks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303134850405656338" /></a><br /><br />We saw lioness & cub in a strange and yet very deliberate dance with a male lion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFYWLR7XI/AAAAAAAADiM/xnHnXL9RJX8/s1600-h/lioness+with+cub.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFYWLR7XI/AAAAAAAADiM/xnHnXL9RJX8/s320/lioness+with+cub.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135214545005938" /></a><br /><br />The mother & cub kept about 400m distance away from the male. When she stopped, he stopped. When she moved, he moved.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDXwL2eI/AAAAAAAADiE/qDXb-e5Rwa8/s1600-h/lion+in+grass.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDXwL2eI/AAAAAAAADiE/qDXb-e5Rwa8/s320/lion+in+grass.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303134854190979554" /></a><br /><br />Our driver indicated that he thought the male lion was on watch, however it seemed more that the lioness was protecting her cub from the adult male!<br />There were Cape Buffalo with young, (this one looked familiar... from the night before!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFCZ6pDEI/AAAAAAAADhk/WdQWzS2WCGM/s1600-h/cape+buffalo.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFCZ6pDEI/AAAAAAAADhk/WdQWzS2WCGM/s320/cape+buffalo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303134837591837762" /></a><br /><br />Also Wart hogs with babies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF2dwLrnI/AAAAAAAADjU/ee07kVIXfhM/s1600-h/wart+hog+with+young.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF2dwLrnI/AAAAAAAADjU/ee07kVIXfhM/s320/wart+hog+with+young.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135731974909554" /></a><br /><br />After a brief stop at a hippo pool, where we saw a hippo out of the water (not a common sight)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDI62shI/AAAAAAAADh8/GLqYYmM74EQ/s1600-h/hippo+out+of+water.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFDI62shI/AAAAAAAADh8/GLqYYmM74EQ/s320/hippo+out+of+water.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303134850209198610" /></a><br /><br />We started heading back towards the crater rim. It was then that we saw a conglomeration of jeeps ahead. We pulled up and sure enough in the faaaar distance a pair of Rhinos could be seen. This was the last of the so-called ‘Big Five’. (Elephant, Lion, Leopard, Buffalo and Rhinoceros – listed by big game hunters, because they were the most difficult game to hunt on foot.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZlGpLUI/AAAAAAAADis/RbsGrJUj8Dw/s1600-h/rhino.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZlGpLUI/AAAAAAAADis/RbsGrJUj8Dw/s320/rhino.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135235731959106" /></a><br /><br />So, with that last ‘cherry on the cake’ we drove up the steep single-track road up the crater rim and back to the camp site.<br /><br />At camp we were greeted by a rainstorm...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZgftUgI/AAAAAAAADik/YzAx1bpmfVs/s1600-h/rain+storm.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFZgftUgI/AAAAAAAADik/YzAx1bpmfVs/s320/rain+storm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135234494910978" /></a><br /><br />and lunch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFY3oQFkI/AAAAAAAADiU/6f95hzRAJkY/s1600-h/lunch.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiFY3oQFkI/AAAAAAAADiU/6f95hzRAJkY/s320/lunch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135223524890178" /></a><br /><br />We had made arrangements with the Moshi Orthopaedic Centre to purchase a pair of replacement crutches, and since we had given our expected arrival time, we packed up and set off as quickly as we could.<br /><br />The drive back was ‘interesting’, involving more close calls (for us and pedestrians) than one would usually expect in a lifetime! Running out of gas and waiting for an hour while Chas went off in search of fuel just added to our exasperation and when we finally arrived at our hotel in Moshi we were glad that this particular adventure had ended!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF2DQwZ4I/AAAAAAAADjM/rmHviPNJY-A/s1600-h/waiting+for+gas.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF2DQwZ4I/AAAAAAAADjM/rmHviPNJY-A/s320/waiting+for+gas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135724863776642" /></a><br /><br />Our final summation of the safari: The animals we saw were incredible and Chas, the driver, notwithstanding his limited English, had a great knack for finding them. Victor, the cook, produced some very tasty meals. He was no doubt limited by the provisions he had been supplied. Robb, the company owner, ‘talked the talk’ but didn’t ‘walk the walk’. He said all the right things, and ‘promised the earth’ however his delivery was well short of the mark.<br /><br />TTFN.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF10QtFuI/AAAAAAAADjE/uAox_DaZZbc/s1600-h/TTFN.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SZiF10QtFuI/AAAAAAAADjE/uAox_DaZZbc/s320/TTFN.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303135720837027554" /></a>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-84803530207960427782009-02-04T22:08:00.000-08:002009-02-04T22:10:53.872-08:00Posting comments should now be easier!We've taken off the 'registration thingy' so posting comments should be much easier.<br />Many people said that they tried, but couldn't post comments.<br />TTFN.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-89021403109356764882009-02-04T21:26:00.001-08:002009-02-04T21:32:03.734-08:00Susan's Account:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SYp5jcLei8I/AAAAAAAAC9c/WihmRgcPXoM/s1600-h/P1020755.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SYp5jcLei8I/AAAAAAAAC9c/WihmRgcPXoM/s200/P1020755.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299181561321524162" /></a><br />I would like to add my personal account of our climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro. I tried to blog earlier but being a "non techie" I was unable to get on. Kerith is helping now.<br /> <br /> I think our trip was amazing and I feel very blessed to have been part of Team SideStix. I read extensively on Mt Kilimanjaro and talked to veterans of the climb and truly believed acclimatizing to high altitude was very random and the only thing I could control was how fast (or slow) I climbed, how much fluid I drank (over 5 litres a day) and the ability to speed up the acclimatization process via pharmacology (Diamox and Decadron) recommended by the International Mountain Medicine Society.<br /><br /> I was extremely lucky as I did not have any symptoms of altitude sickness (headache, vomiting and diarrhoea) and never felt severely short of breath. Ellen and I worked hard to prepare for the climb. We went to the gym and trained but most of all we hiked every available weekend from August on. We hiked 6-8 hours a day mostly in the Blue Hills of Milton and this proved to be perfect training as the trek up Kilimanjaro is not really steep except for the midnight summit assault.<br /><br /> I would like to say this trip changed my life but it really didn't. What is did was enrich it and help me get back to realizing who I am. It's funny but when you are "plucked" out of your world; away from routines, work, family and comforts; and into a new culture you can really experience the moment and how you feel in it. I truly felt like a kid again. I was outside all day, dirty and silly and playing with my twin sister and friends; something I had not done in over 30 years. I felt really, really grateful to have this opportunity to feel so alive! The accommodations were very basic but I felt very comfortable and cared for. We were given warm water to wash each morning along with hot tea in our hut. We were called to our meals and served with the greatest care and respect. We were watched over and cared for by our guides especially when we felt sick. We were so active we were tired going to bed and fell asleep at 8pm.<br />I slept with ease. No chatter on my mind. My fingernails grew.<br /><br /> Walking for 6 days gives you a lot of time to reflect. I thought about this "pole - pole" concept or "slow - slow" and came to realize that when you take your time, not only can you enjoy the scenery, but you usually reach your goal in better shape. I learned to be more patient. We saw many casualties of altitude sickness on the mountain and most of these people had raced by us earlier in the day. I also thought about my dad and how he can swim for 2 hrs (with severe heart failure) because he goes slow. The same principle I use with my patients at work. If you move them slower they tire less and their oxygen levels stay steady. The pace of "tic-tock" was taken and although I brought up the rear I never had to stop.<br /><br /> We had lots of laughs and felt a little "fuzzy brained" at Kibo camp (>15000 ft). We were all nervous but excited. Sarah and Sosta left before Kerith could take pictures. We climbed steady and strong. Disbelief was the feeling I had when Sarah stopped and said her SideStix broke. I was looking at it but couldn't believe it. I was speechless. I had worried that altitude sickness may get to her as she could not take Diamox (allergic to sulpha drugs) but it was a mechanical problem. She broke down and cried "my ‘leg’ is broken". Kerith always believed he could fix it. I wasn't sure but felt that if anyone could do it, it would be him. His fierce loyalty to Sarah and SideStix gave him a super human boost of energy and he bolted down the mountain to repair it.<br /><br /> Ellen and I continued; sad but more determined than ever to make it. I think it took close to 7 hrs to reach Gilman’s point (top of the crater)and there were times it seemed like the climb would never end. Living in the moment and just putting one foot in front of the other became automatic. Once we reached Gilman's we never doubted we would summit at Uhuru. The 2 hr climb was very cold and windy. It reminded me of skiing on Mt. Cannon, NH on a sub zero windy day. The sun was up and the views were spectacular so it seemed wonderful. I kept wiggling my fingers and toes to stay warm. The summit brought Ellen and I real hugs of joy and accomplishment. We did it!<br /><br /> The most emotional moment of the climb was when we met Kerith on his way to the summit and he told us Sarah was around the corner at Gilman's pt. I felt more joy that when I actually summitted. I couldn't believe it as the climb up the soft scree is so difficult. Anyone who has climbed Kilimanjaro realizes this. The walk around the crater rim to Uhuru is cold and windy but the difficulty lies in climbing to Gilman's. When I saw Sarah I felt so proud of her and our team. Ellen took a photo of Sarah and I embracing and this is truly the climax of my climb. Pure Joy!<br /><br /> Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro helped me redefine myself. I did it and feel that I can do other things I didn't think I could do. I feel braver, more self assured and confident. Like when I was a kid; learning how to shuffle cards, whistle with two fingers and ride a two wheel bike. A happy go lucky kid!Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-13351205071569283072009-02-02T11:34:00.000-08:002009-02-02T11:35:36.407-08:00Sarah's Account of the Summit NightI feel double my age as I lay here careful not to exert any energy while staring out of my bedroom window at the carefully manicured English gardens that surround the Marangu Hotel. I am convalescing from my climb up Kilimanjaro. Less than 24 hours ago we returned from our expedition, celebrating our success with two rounds of beers with the guides and porters. We also received our ‘Certificates of Achievement’ and enjoyed the “Mt. Kilimanjaro Song”, marking the success of our summit attempt. I must have been propelled by adrenalin to have the energy to engage in such festivities. Right now, I feel sucked to the bed’s mattress holding enough edema within me that one could mistake my body for having birthed a baby and not climbed a mountain.<br />Climbing Kilimanjaro was not what I expected. I had primed myself for the walk up a variety of terrains (rain forest, heath, moorland, alpine desert and summit), and knew we needed to walk slowly. But, our “pole pole” pace was truly a slow heel to toe march. Ellen made the metaphor, “the pace of a patient right after major surgery, towing his/her I.V. pole down the hospital corridors”. <br />Right from the start of the climb, I felt at home on this expedition. Although it had been 25 years since I had done any type of high altitude climbing, it felt comfortable to return to such an intense-focus, single-task activity. Climbing has always given me the ability to free my mind of the internal and external busyness of everyday life.<br />Thinking back to yesterday afternoon, I had felt a bit jealous of my team mates. Susan, Ellen and Kerith had all made it to Uhuru peak (the ‘official’ summit) and received a colorful certificate to mark the occasion. My green and black, somewhat bland certificate, indicated I had made it to Gilman’s Point – on the crater’s edge (this was considered the summit in bygone days). But, Gilman’s is 600 (vertical) feet short of the highest point on the rim. Sure, I felt tired when I got to this Gilman’s, but still thought I could muster up some energy to go to the “summit”…with encouragement. However I was told after 9 a.m. no climber is allowed to proceed past Gilman’s due to safety reasons. Kilimanjaro’s weather often changes for the worse around 10:00 a.m., something we had all witnessed since arriving in Moshi, a small town, 45 minutes from the base of Kibo. Most days the mountain seemed to drape itself in clouds from mid morning till early evening. Because of this, I knew I would have to be satisfied with my accomplishment to this point. <br />Today, that thinking seems so petty and I am overwhelmed emotionally as to how lucky I was that summit day. Kerith and Sosta (my guide) enabled me to go on after my left crutch broke at 16,000 ft, just one and a half hours into the climb. Their know-how, brute strength and encouragement allowed me to continue up the mountain against all odds and still manage to reach the rim of the crater.<br />[Kerith just arrived in the bedroom to check on me. Of course I started to cry in gratitude for his love and support. He is not sure what to do. I am not only looking like a puffer fish in full volume, but I’m an emotional train wreck! This is going to be a long day of sorting things out both physically and emotionally. Kerith gives me a hug and I continue to write on.]<br />To say I was shocked when my crutch broke is an understatement. I immediately felt defeated and started to quietly cry, while saying goodbye to my teammates. Catastrophic equipment failure had never factored into the equation of the summit bid. Whether over-confident, or over-sight, we did not take a spare set crutches with us (against my 85 year old father’s good advice!) and although we had spare parts with us, and even a repair kit for the eventuality of a broken crutch, repair on the mountain was not an option.<br />(Should I have been surprised? Equipment failure had happen to me on Mt. McKinley. I didn’t have time to stress test proto-type 2 and the polypropylene basket shattered in the extreme cold conditions on Denali. We were already above 14,000 feet and the slopes were windswept, so the loss of baskets didn’t pose any real problem up to the summit of McKinley. The problems arose when we started to climb down in soft snow!) <br />I started to really test SideStix in mid December. The SideStix were being submitted for Patent, and we were advised not to bring them into the public domain prior to filing. Although we hiked extensively in the mountains around the Sunshine Coast, two weeks was not long enough to reveal the hidden weakness.<br />The break on the SideStix was at the forearm tube just above the handle. We used high grade 6061 aluminum tubing (good enough for aircraft and high-end mountain bikes) however it appears that the fabrication process caused the forearm tube to be weakened. It cracked and then snapped immediately above the welded handle-tube which indicates that stresses introduced into the aluminum from the welding (or bending) were not adequately annealed. As if to corroborate this, the second SideStix broke in exactly the same place, five days later, while on safari in the Ngorongoro crater.)<br />To say that SideStix failed is inaccurate. The crutch forearm handle did break, but the purpose of testing a prototype is to reveal strengths and weaknesses. This test revealed a weakness in one of the components, and showed enormous strengths in the shock absorbing system and changeable feet, which gave me the cushion and purchase to get up the mountain efficiently without joint pain and blisters.<br />---------------------------------------------------------------------<br />Journal:<br />It was 1:30 a.m. and we were all standing on the slopes wondering what to do with my situation. Kerith, who had been studying the break said, “I think I can fix this.” I must say, I didn’t initially hear him and then when I did, I didn’t believe him. But, he took the broken crutch, leaving at a run with Octavian, his guide (to my great surprise at this altitude.) Sosta and I sat at a nearby rock to wait. The signal we arranged was a flashing light by the Kibo hut. This would indicate that the SideStix was beyond repair and we would need to proceed downhill, back to camp.<br />I said goodbye to Ellen and Susan without regret. We had made a pact with each other; if one could not continue on, the others would proceed up the mountain with their guides - without guilt. I did however have a heavy heart. How I wanted to continue on, but couldn’t. <br />Now feeling devastated, I sat next to Sosta on the rock, with a faint hope that Kerith would pull through and all would be well. Sosta poured me a cup of tea and sat with me in silence. He knew enough English to comfort me, but he chose instead to just pat my arm and look out to Mawenzi (Kibo’s brother). Sometimes no words are the best words and this was one of those situations. The silence felt strangely right, but unfamiliar to me. I’m a talker and process just about everything out loud. The night was calm, but cold. It was beautiful to look down in the moonlight and faintly see how far we had come from the desert saddle (about 10 kilometers away). We were almost above the clouds and the beauty, tea and silence calmed me. <br />Sosta is a quiet man. Susan described him as the “Zen” of guides. His wisdom seems to create an aura around him. He has been working on the mountain since he was 9 years old and is now 43. He cannot count how many times he has summitted this mountain (I don’t think this matters to him), but is clear he is familiar with every route, in all kinds of conditions. I asked him what it’s like to have this new ‘condition’, an amputee making a summit bid on one crutch. He just smiled and said, “We will continue”. What the heck did that mean! Continue down or up? I took a deep breath and begin to talk non-stop; my way of processing a dilemma (poor Sosta!). I said, “I feel so good, no head ache, no stomach ache, lots of energy. I want to continue up, I feel so good”……just repeating myself.<br />Finally, after 5 minutes, I said something different, “I’m feeling cold”. Sosta looked at me and immediately stood up. He braced his right forearm and said, “We will continue”. “I must go up” I said, if only to reach Hans Meyer’s cave. Certainly that would bring us above the clouds and Mawenzi, and give me the joy of a well-earned view. Sosta seemed to be OK with the direction. As long as I was feeling well, his job was to get me to the summit and this was also a logical way to stay warm…to hop.<br />Hopping up the slope in high altitude was the hardest physical thing I have ever done. Sosta may also agree, as he had to shake his arm out every 30 or so hops, due to cramps. But, I wasn’t going to complain. I felt lucky to have a new opportunity to continue on, no matter how dire. It’s funny, how your perspective changes with loss. I had always felt a bit like an under-dog climbing this mountain with two crutches and no Diamox. How I would give anything to have two good crutches right now!<br />It became clear to both Sosta and I that we would have to have a system to make headway hopping up the mountain. Every 3-4 hops I would stop and catch my breath. We smoothed out the rhythm of our walk together and made a pact. I would take 15 hops straight up the mountain and then traverse for 25 hops. This would certainly keep me warm and make the progress we needed to get to Hans Meyer Cave. Sosta knew how to count to 10 in English. So we counted in sets of 10. The headway we made was giving me hope. I was also feeling amazed at my body’s ability to go on in this fashion. I’m usually fairly optimistic about what my body can do, but hoping up a mountain was impressive to me as well. I don’t know what it is in a human (because I know I’m not unique in this manner), but somehow you find a reserve deep inside and it seems to recreate new boundaries of what you thought you were capable of doing. Kerith says, it’s my stubbornness and determination combined, but this part of the climb felt different. It wasn’t cognitive. It was like a spirit had opened up a new channel within me and allowed me to tap into this new reserve I wasn’t aware that I had. It was fantastic feeling (perhaps I was experiencing an endorphin blizzard within), but my rational side, thought, “You are a crazy girl”.<br />My feelings towards Sosta can be summed up in one phrase, “deep respect”. He is wise, experienced and understands the language of this mountain better than most. He is aware of his strengths and appears humble enough to understand his weaknesses. I was lucky to be assigned the “head guide” for summit night. Now I could see what this man was made of and I was totally awed that he was enabling me to continue by using his right arm as a spare forearm crutch.<br />After more than two and a half hours hopping up Kibo, (covering 1000 vertical feet,) passing Hans Meyers cave (which Sosta pointed out after the fact), we could faintly see Kerith and Octavian making their way up the slope at impressive speed. When they got closer, I heard a faint call. Had Kerith fixed the crutch?<br />I’m not sure if I or Sosta was more relieved when we saw Kerith and Octavian up close on the slope. We had come to the end of our ability to make headway in the soft scree. The sun was just making its way above the horizon and warming the frozen scree to a quick-sand consistency. The timing was perfect because both Sosta and I needed a break from the physical exertion of hoping at this altitude. Sosta gave Kerith a firm embrace of relief and appreciation and officially named him “marathon man”. This nick name stuck with Kerith for the remainder of the climb, and was quite a compliment coming from an extremely fit African.<br />I started to cry in relief and excitement. My love had pulled it off. This man with incredible strength, determination and technological knowhow had enabled me to continue on by fixing the SideStix. I felt a deep sense of love for this remarkable person. I felt so lucky that Kerith and Sosta had turned a seemingly impossible situation around. I was going to make it to the summit. I now knew this, and the gift of this knowledge gave me all the energy I needed to negotiate the next set of difficulties on this slope.<br />For the next four hours we made our way slowly, one goal at a time, through scree and then over the rocks to Gilman’s Point. It was 9:30am and we had made it to 18,600ft above sea level. Kerith and I took some pictures and had tea with our guides.<br />Although I did not continue on, Kerith was able to convince Sosta that “marathon man” could race to Uhuru peak in good time, before the weather changed. I remained behind with Octavian. In less than 5 minutes after Kerith left, Susan and Ellen rounded the corner. They had just bumped into Kerith and the news of us summiting brought tears to their eyes. When I saw them, I just started crying. Now I don’t cry easily, but I think the altitude had something to do with my emotional state. We all hugged, took pictures and made our way down the mountain to the Kibo hut. What took 9 hours for me to climb up, took only 2 hours to climb down.<br />---------------------------------------------------------------------<br />Perhaps feeling like I’ve just birthed a baby may be quite appropriate. As I lay here recovering, I already know that like having a baby, my life will never be the same. With time I will come to know the true impact this ‘baby’ will have on my life, both as a person and designer of SideStix.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-91213973627965031412009-01-20T23:29:00.000-08:002009-02-08T11:09:13.565-08:00The Day AFTER The Longest Day...Surprisingly enough, we all awoke early. It was Monday January 12th, the last day of the expedition. I had assumed we would all sleep like the dead, however our anticipation of returning to the 'real world' and also the gentle suggestions from the guides, that 8am would be a good time to start the (long) final day's hike, had us stirring at a pre-dawn 6am. With the traditional fare of fruit and (chocolate) porridge, eggs and bacon and copious quantities of Chai tea, consumed with our customary gusto, we set off on the first leg of our 27Km day. The plan was to hike down to the Mandara Camp and have a hot lunch (which the Marangu Hotel was going to send up.) After lunch and a short break we would hike out from Mandara, to the park gate.<br />We made good time - the memories of our accomplishments (and the down-hill grade...) giving lift to our weary feet. The changing vegetation afforded lots of new photo opportunities and less than 4 hours after leaving Horrombo, we crossed the bridge (literal - not figurative) that marks the start of the rainforest - just outside Mandara Camp.<br />As promised, the hot lunch was waiting for us in the dining cabin at Mandara, however, to be truthful, we did look with some envy at other groups that were tucking in to lunch-boxes whilst sitting in the cool grass under the shade of vine-encrusted trees.<br />Lunch over; descending the final portion of the Marangu Trail, we passed from one sunlight jewelled tunnel to another. Like rabbit holes through the dense vegetation, we were indeed returning from our own 'wonderland'.<br />Cheers and photos and hugs all around and there we were, through the gate and filling out forms and questionnaires, taking part in the 'administrative shuffle' that Tanzania takes so seriously. We all left comments requesting improved education for tourist and porter alike. Kilimanjaro, though vast, is fragile, and tens of thousands of litter-touting users are having a tremendous impact, which if not managed with ecology and sustainability in mind, will reduce this African Jewel to just another exhausted resource. “The highest free-standing rubbish pile in Africa” doesn't have quite the same allure!<br />The trip back to the Marangu hotel passed quickly, the cooling wind swirling around us in the back of the open truck, a welcome respite from the now unaccustomed heat.<br />We checked back in to the same rooms we had left a mere 6 days, but a seeming lifetime, before. <br />Alas, rest & relaxation were not the 'order of the day'. The most important part of the whole trip (for the porters & guides) was about to transpire. It was tip-time!<br />We all had speed-showers, to wash off the worst of the trail-dust, and then reconvened in the hotel grounds, 9 porters & guides and the 4 of us.<br />With a round of drinks in hand, the (surprisingly formal) ceremony began. Sosta and Simon filled out our names on our “diplomas” (certificates of achievement.) Sosta then gave a short speech, congratulating us and handed each of us our certificates.<br />It was my turn then, and I stood to give a very brief speech, conveying our heart-felt gratitude for their hard work and dedication which had enabled us to have an unforgettable experience.<br />Much more than words though, the tip speaks the language of gratitude, and we 'spoke well'. The smiles on their faces indicated clear comprehension in this language of currency and the closing song was delivered with great gusto.<br />And then they were gone, and the evening was ours. The stillness descended like a blanket and wrapped us in its quiet folds, while inside each of us the memories ebbed and flowed. The experience was over, but our understanding was only just beginning.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-68895566818542818742009-01-17T20:05:00.000-08:002009-01-17T21:26:23.100-08:00Repaired SideStix<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SXK9f-vdnOI/AAAAAAAAA9E/zhRjC06For4/s1600-h/Repaired+SideStix-783102.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SXK9f-vdnOI/AAAAAAAAA9E/zhRjC06For4/s320/Repaired+SideStix-783102.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292500869229419746" /></a></p><SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>Here's a picture of Sarah's SideStix. The repaired one is on the left.<br>TTFN. </SPAN>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-53027603844548166032009-01-15T04:41:00.000-08:002009-02-08T11:01:11.596-08:00Ellen's Summit.Time stopped when Sarah's crutch broke...a new plan had to be formed. Kerith headed down the mountain to fix Sarah's crutch. We had previously made a pact that whoever could go on would, without guilt. The cold leaves no time for long goodbyes, Susan and I hugged Sarah and started our climb upward.<br />Surreal does not begin to describe the emotions. Sadness, fatigue, altitude and the physical demands of the climb all came into play. Susan feeling no effects from altitude was climbing strong. The pace was too fast for me, my heart was racing and I was getting short of breath, I needed our 'pole, pole' pace. I was not sure I could summit. Susan reminded me of all the people who we were climbing for...it helped me focus and get back into the trance of climbing. We thought of our patients how each step in the beginning was an effort. As the climb got steeper Susan said “It's all mental Ellen”, I replied, a little unkindly “It's physical too Susan”. Little talk, we were each lost in our thoughts.<br />Coming to the rocks spared us from the miserable scree however gave us a new challenge. Our guides Simon and Ernest mercifully took our backpacks allowing us to be able to climb over and scramble the rocks. For me it seemed like we would never get there. Almost at the top I felt little energy left. Susan saw climbers at the top, “We are almost there!!”.<br />Reaching Gillman's Point gave us a sense of elation and surprisingly a burst of energy. We greeted the climbers already there, took a couple photos and looked down below. Almost like looking from an airplane you could see Kenya to your left and Moshi to your right. We were higher than the clouds. A snack of hot tea brought to us by our attentive guides along with digestive biscuits restored us. I ate a package of chocolate energy goo and with Uhuru Peak in sight from our perch at Gilman's, Susan and I started the trek along the ridge.<br />Finding it a bit easier than the trudge up to Gilman's, fatigue and cold were the current concerns. Looking into the crater to the right and the glaciers to the left, it was glorious!! FINALLY we reached Uhuru Peak!!! Windy, cold but it afforded an amazing view! Genuine hugs of congratulations along with a sense of true joy, we had reached our goal; it was yet another emotional moment.<br />Quick photos, a few tributes and we were off on our descent. Mostly downward now we were able to appreciate the beauty. Susan and I, with Sarah often in our thoughts, felt 'Team SideStix' finished. Little did we know of Kerith and Sarah's ordeal. We had left Sarah devastated by her broken crutch.<br />Almost at Gilman's, to our surprise we meet Sosta and Kerith! “No time to talk but Sarah is just around the corner at Gilman's!!” More tears, unbelievable elation...we hurry to see Sarah.<br />There she sat, on a rock at Gillman's Point. The emotions of the moment cannot be captured in text but is one I and my friends will ever forget.<br />After hugs, congratulations and a few photos we girls headed down to Kibo Hut.<br />My best to all,<br />Ellen.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-19324615051903172272009-01-13T10:16:00.000-08:002009-02-28T13:14:41.080-08:00The Longest Day.Our summit attempt on Kilimanjaro really started at Horrombo Camp at 8am on Saturday tenth of January. Packs on and the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro beckoning, we started out on the trail to Kibo Camp. Inside each of us, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickered from elation to fear. Our personal acclimatization experiences hadn't been too difficult to date, however listening to the horrendous accounts from descending climbers at supper the previous evening had demoralized us and indeed had done us a great disservice.<br /><br />The 10 Km (7 mile) route to Kibo Camp took 8 hours to accomplish, at our extreme "pole, pole" pace. We walked through the desolate alpine desert where only occasional words spelled out in rocks by the side of the path, and the infrequent splash of yellow Asteraceae broke the monotony of this high altitude landscape. We ate our packed lunches at around 2pm in a rocky area which would have been a welcome wind-break, had the anticipated wind materialized. However, once again, fortune smiled on us and the weather conditions proved excellent.<br /><br />We left the giant white necked ravens and striped field mice to squabble over the crumbs of our lunch and continued on, happy in the knowledge that the larger part of this hike was behind us. <br /><br />At 4pm we rounded a rock outcrop and there was the large silver and green Kibo Hut surrounded by smaller huts for reception and porter's quarters. There were also the tents of hikers on the Rongai Route and off to the right a new dormitory building under construction. We signed in at reception and then received the great news that we would have one of the 12 bed bunk rooms to ourselves. This meant that (a) we had space to spread out our gear for the climb, (b) we wouldn't be disturbed by 'revolving door' of 12 people making bathroom pilgrimages (for a variety of reasons - from benign to extreme!!) and (c) we could leave our window wide open to promote the inflow of whatever scant oxygen there was at this elevation - without recriminations about it being too cold.<br /><br />Supper was to be served at 5pm and we had barely started sorting through our porter - bags (white feed - sacks that the porters carried our gear in) when "tuna surprise on pasta was served at the table in our bunk room. The meal was excellent, as always and our respects go to Christian, the cook, for producing such tasteful and varied meals in what can only be described as primitive conditions.<br /><br />The next couple of hours were a frenzy of sorting and searching, lost and found, who's got this, who's got that....with the nagging reminder that every minute spent organizing was a minute less sleeping. <br /><br />Ellen crawled into her sleeping bag at about 7:30pm, while Sarah still sorted through gear, Susan prepared water containers with Iodine and Gatorade, and I worked on spare SideStix tips - epoxying and screwing more studs in the tip soles. I also disassembled the snowshoe tips we had brought, taking the ice - tips with us as a possible alternative in the frozen scree.<br /><br />By 8:30 pm I had completed the tips and assembled a repair kit. Sarah and Susan went to bed and I spent the next half hour putting my cold weather gear into an assembly line that I hoped my half - cooked brain could cope with - a mere 2 hours hence.<br /><br />By the time the 11pm wakeup call came, Sarah and Susan had got about a half hour sleep each, Ellen had spent her time meditating and I gave up the pretense after an hour and wrote some text messages, which I hoped would get transmitted further up the mountain, cause there was no cell reception at the Kibo Camp. <br /><br />Chai tea and digestive biscuits were served by Octavian, the assistant guide and at 11:30 pm the main guides (Sosta, Simon and Ernest) came in to check on our progress.<br /><br />The previous evening at our pre - climb briefing, the only definite guide assignment was that Sosta, the head guide would lead Sarah, and the remaining guides would be with the rest of us. The extra challenges facing Sarah - including the lack of Diamox, meant that the best guide needed to be at her side.<br /><br />I gave Sosta the spare parts bag and the spare crutch tips (for which I had given HIM a pre - climb briefing!) he and Sarah walked out of the bunk room and Susan, Ellen and I followed shortly behind. I wanted to take a photo of the team however one quarter of it had already left! Sarah and Sosta were already heading up the mountain, so I took a photo of the three remaining guide, Susan and Ellen, then we were off.<br /><br />The full moon lit the mountain with a surreal glow and provided enough light to make head lamps unnecessary. We caught up with Sarah and Sosta within a few minutes and then in our typical fashion, we snaked "pole, pole" into the night.<br /><br />My only real recollection of the next hour and a half was of planting one foot in front of the other and "pressure breathing" - a peculiar double intake somewhat reminiscent of imbibing illicit substances (I've heard!) none of us had any headaches or inclination to vomit - breathing was our only focus.<br /><br />In indeterminate amount of time later (it turns out that it was 90 minutes, one and a half miles, and 1,000 vertical feet, but time and distance seemed to have a strange, elastic quality that night) I heard a curse ahead of me. Sarah had felt her left SideStix cuff slip and assumed that it needed tightening. I turned on my head lamp and in its harsh LED glow we realized the full enormity of the situation. Sarah's left SideStix had snapped at the handle/forearm bend. <br /><br />Sarah, devastated, saw her hopes dashed and cried in defeat and frustration. She was comforted by Susan and Ellen while I continued to kneel on the ground, spinning possibilities through my mind.<br /><br />This break had happened in the worst possible place - where the aluminum tube was bent to make the ergonomic shape of the SideStix. I had brought a steel reinforcing pipe and clamps - with the idea of being able to repair the aluminum tubes if they were damaged or broken, however the plan wasn't so great if I couldn't get the steel reinforcing pipe into the aluminum - due to the bend.<br /><br />However, giving up wasn't an option so we quickly hatched a plan. Susan and Ellen would continue on with Simon and Ernest, Sarah would remain at this location with Sosta, and Octavian and I would head back down to Kibo Camp to attempt to repair the SideStix. If I couldn't fix it, then I would signal from the Kibo Hut with repeated flashing of my headlamp and then Sarah and Sosta would have to come down. <br /><br />We parted company, numb from this unexpected outcome of two years of planning. I indicated to Octavian (who spoke as much English as I spoke Swahili...) that I wanted to hurry, so throwing altitude sickness cautions to the wind, we ran down the mountain. We arrived at the camp at around 2am, with my heart trying to leave my body - it was pounding so fast. Octavaian woke Christian, the cook, who was also guardian of the room key, and while I considered repair options, I sent Octavian in search of a (pantomimed) hammer. He came back, smiling happily - as he always did - with a rock. <br /><br />So, with a rock as a hammer, the room padlock as an anvil and my trusting Luxembourgish pocket knife as a saw and chisel, I knelt on the concrete floor of the bunk room for 2 hours fashioning a repair that I hoped would enable Sarah to walk off the mountain under her own steam.<br /><br />My 'safety check' comprised walking 2 lengths of the bunk house with one leg and the SideStix and declaring success (cue - big smile from Octavian) I threw on my coats and we left.<br /><br />Once again "pole, pole" had no place in this particular time frame, and we charged up the mountain fuelled, in my case, by adrenaline and very little else.<br /><br />After about 15 minutes we saw a guide coming down towards us. He asked in broken English if we with the Marangu Hotel. I nodded (too winded to speak) and he said "They coming down - too cold". Waving thanks, we set off again and in another 15 minutes we had reached the rocks (at 16,500 feet) where we had left Sarah and Sosta.<br /><br />I was confused because unless they had taken a completely different route off the mountain, there was no way we could have missed them. I had a whistle with me and blew a long single blast and then called Sarah's name. There was no response, however, after the second attempt I heard what I thought was a faint answering call from UP the mountain. <br /><br />So, onwards and upwards...until a short while later we came across Naresh - a friend we had made on the trail, coming down the mountain with a guide. He had an awful flu just before beginning the climb and his overtaxed lungs had called it quits just before Gillman's Point. He gave me some astounding news - that he had passed Sarah hopping up the mountain with the assistance of Sosta, and was about an hour further ahead! <br /><br />With my eyes full of tears, tears of love, admiration and awe, at her shear determination and audacity, we carried on for a further 30 minutes, until from up ahead we heard the voice of Sosta calling down to us.<br /><br />It was 5am and Sarah had hopped - with Sosta's assistance - for 2 1/2 hours, covering one and a half miles and 1,000 foot vertical gain. Sosta came down from the small bluff where he and Sarah were sitting and gave me a big hug and I felt a huge strength that this small man had inside him and thanked "all" that was to be thanked , that he was there for Sarah - and all of us, that night.<br /><br />With tears of joy freely falling, I explained how I'd fixed the SideStix and what it's potential limitations were and how the 'safe' course of action would be to descend. But Sarah would hear nothing of it. She felt strong, she felt determined, she wanted to go on.<br /><br />So, with the sky lightening over the jagged peak of Mawenzi and my fingers brutally aching from the cold - having just updated the blog via SMS, we inched upwards, and time once again slowed down to the mountain's natural rhythm, “pole-pole, pole-pole.”<br /><br />At 6.30am the fiery orb of the rising sun climbed through the pink and purple clouds next to Mawenzi and still we trudged, step by step, through the now thawed scree. Like walking on sand dunes, each step forward includes a half slide backwards.<br /><br />While Sarah fought for breath, pressure breathing each lungful, and gradually decreasing the step-count between breaks, 25 to 16, to 10, I fought with sleepiness. I just wanted to curl up and nap - just for a few minutes, that's all... But Sosta was ferocious in his insistence - no sleep - people die!<br /><br />Sarah finally allowed Octavian to take her pack which gave her a much needed respite and goal by goal, target by target we climbed closer to Gilman's Point at the edge of the crater.<br /><br />By 8am we were off the scree and had started scrambling over boulders. The change of surface was greatly welcomed if nothing else, to break the monotony that had been our existence for the previous 3 hours. Of course the boulders covered with a light dusting of sand and pebbles gives its own particular set of challenges, however the studded SideStix tips seemed to keep good purchase.<br /><br />In the last hour before summiting Gilman's Point numerous people passed us on their way down. The encouragement they gave us was invaluable and uplifting and certainly played a part in giving us the energy we needed to climb into the small pocket of rocks that makes up the 'Crow’s Nest' of Gilman's Point.<br /><br />It was 9.30am and we were 18,711ft above sea level. Against all odds Sarah had climbed, hopped and scrambled up the hardest part of Mount Kilimanjaro.<br /><br />It was a very emotional time for Sarah, she'd had her dreams dashed, then re-kindled. She had been challenged by the mountain, and surmounted everything that came her way. She could see Uhuru Peak and yet knew that although she had the strength to make the summit, she didn't have the time. It was then that she turned to me and said “Kerith, you should go for it.”<br /><br />Charged with new energy from our brief rest at Gilman's, we made the quick decision that Sosta and I would make a dash for the summit at Uhuru. It was supposedly 70 minutes one way, but I was confident that we could do it in less... (confidence born of a lack of oxygen maybe - however Sosta looked at me with a quiet, long look then nodded.) He gave some instructions to Octavian and then we set off at a terrific pace.<br /><br />We had barely turned the corner from Gilman's Point when we ran into Susan, Ellen, Simon & Ernest - returning from Uhuru! They had made it! There were tears all round as they discovered for the first time that Sarah had made it to Gilman's. Sosta and I then sped away and I was overjoyed that Sarah & Susan - the twins, would be reunited on Kilimanjaro.<br /><br />The journey to Uhuru took 45 minutes - the trail following the crater rim. The landscape is quite surreal with its juxtaposition of desert and glacier however there was no time to linger, so upon arriving at Uhuru (now deserted - other climbers having long since left) we hugged, I took some photos, then we sped back to Gilman's Point.<br /><br />35 minutes of speed-walking brought us to the little crow's nest at the Point, then after a brief SMS update we began our descent. A descent that although not as graceful as a mountain goat - was probably as quick!<br /><br />We bounded through the rock section and then when we got to the scree... we started running and leaping - splashing through the sand and gravel. We ran and ran, with only an occasional gasping break for me to catch my breath.<br /><br />At 12.30pm we got into Kibo Camp - speaking for myself - utterly exhausted. Sosta labelled me “Marathon Man”; which coming from him I took as a great compliment!<br /><br />Back in our bunk-room, I discovered that Sarah, Susan and Ellen had arrived at Kibo about 20 minutes earlier. It was a very happy reunion!<br /><br />We had an hour and a half to get changed, pack, eat lunch and nap - guess which 'episode' got 'short-changed'?!<br /><br />2pm saw 4 zombies swaying outside the Kibo Hut preparing to make the 10km (7 mile) hike back to Horrombo Camp. I knew that unless I pushed myself with all the speed I could muster, I would not make it at all, so kissing Sarah goodbye, I hauled out of there with Octavian in tow.<br /><br />I slipped and slid but refused to slow down and after a while, Octavian in true guide fashion, moved into the lead and led me through safer sections of the pathway. We arrived at Horrombo in 1 1/2 hours - the same journey that had taken 8 hours - uphill, the day before.<br /><br />Susan, then Ellen & Sarah all arrived within an hour after me and warm washing water and down sleeping bags brought closure to the hardest day any of us could remember.<br /><br />Post Script:<br /><br />This entire "The Longest Day" post, was typed out on my Palm Treo 500 (cell phone) keyboard. Unfortunately technology let us down and we couldn't email it directly from the phone. Consequently Ellen re-typed most of it on a marginal Tanzanian keyboard / computer, until the email size on the phone was small enough to send.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-71430078337503539472009-01-12T06:38:00.000-08:002009-01-12T07:48:39.891-08:00These boots have climbed Kilimanjaro!<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWtmWBQ9BJI/AAAAAAAAA88/ZsslQOY-RQg/s1600-h/PIC018-719893.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWtmWBQ9BJI/AAAAAAAAA88/ZsslQOY-RQg/s320/PIC018-719893.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290434715759477906" /></a></p><SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>At 3pm on Monday 12th January, we arrived back at the park entrance. We left Horombo Camp at 8.00am and walked for 4 hours down though moorlands and rainforest to the Mandara Camp.<br>A hot lunch was waiting for us (brought up from the Marangu Hotel) and after eating and a brief rest we walked the remaining 2 1/2 hours to the park gate.<br>By the time we reached the gate, we were all spent. It was an incredible experience and to be honest the full enormity of our accomplishments won't really sink in till time and sleep has worked its magic.<br>We have one rest day at the Marangu Hotel before our next adventure begins and we will try to use some of this time to put up a full account of the last few days.<br>TTFN.</SPAN>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-68319869747589204012009-01-11T08:23:00.000-08:002009-01-11T13:53:15.873-08:00From the summit of Kilimanjaro!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWpqNXEl-LI/AAAAAAAACT8/JiRCprNFqs4/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWpqNXEl-LI/AAAAAAAACT8/JiRCprNFqs4/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290157490064193714" /></a>Well, against all odds, Sarah and I summitted the crater's edge (Gilman's Point) after a 9 1/2 hour ordeal including Sarah hopping 1000ft up the mountain with only one crutch. Sarah was spent after the climb but I still had enough of a stubborn streak in me to want to make it to Uhuru - the peak of Kibo. It was past the cut-off time to make that ascent, however I promised Sosta that I would be quick and I was. He cut a terrific pace but I managed to keep up most of the time. I can't write more now because Sosta and I are the only ones left on the mountain, and we still have a 6 hour hike left ahead of us. By the way, Susan and Ellen BOTH summitted Uhuru - it had been decided that they should press on when the crutch disaster happened. TTFN.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-68783511822425955802009-01-11T08:18:00.000-08:002009-01-11T13:57:05.166-08:00Enroute from Kibo Camp to summit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWocqnNDmbI/AAAAAAAACTs/baXxr6UghCM/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWocqnNDmbI/AAAAAAAACTs/baXxr6UghCM/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290072230703897010" /></a><br />Disaster struck when at 16,500ft Sarah's crutch handle broke at the handle bend. I ran down 1000ft to camp and jury-rigged a fix using the spare parts we brought and a rock as a hammer. Am now almost back up to Sarah - exhausted. It's 5AM.<div><br /></div><div>It seems one leg and one crutch won't stop this lady from climbing Kilimanjaro. By the time I had got to where I left her, she'd climbed another 1000ft with the helping hand and bone-weary arm of Sosta, our most incredible Head Guide. She now has 2 crutches again so I'll let you know how it goes. TTFN.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-46769281317370176902009-01-11T05:47:00.000-08:002009-01-11T14:07:12.174-08:00From Kibo Hut, 4703m<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWobPx2UiJI/AAAAAAAACTk/GbPJR9kiWVE/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWobPx2UiJI/AAAAAAAACTk/GbPJR9kiWVE/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290070670193232018" /></a><br />It's 10:40 on Saturday night. In 20 minutes we'll be getting up and suited up for our summit attempt. It's too bad that there is no reception here at Kibo Hut (15,400ft) because these messages are delayed however I'll try to connect as we get higher on the mountain. Saturday started out at 6AM with tea then breakfast. Since we'd done most of our sorting the night before, breaking camp was fairly efficient and we were hiking up the trail to Kibo Hut by 8:10AM. It was a long 8 hour slog to Kibo, with an elevation gain of about 3,000ft. We all fared pretty well, helped no doubt from the Diamox (an acclimatization enhancing drug) that everyone except Sarah can take. Unfortunately she has to do it "O naturelle" due to an allergy to this drug. We've all taken some little green pill though - to reduce brain swelling apparently - it's great to be traveling with 2 nurses in the group! We got to Kibo at 4PM. It's a wood structure on a substantial concrete and rock foundation and thanfully it's quite empty so the 4 of us are occupying a 12 bed bunk room by ourselves. Supper was early and between 5 and 8PM we sorted gear, prepared water and energy supplies. I modified some crutch tips with studs and also took the ice tip off the snow show attachments as that may be a good solution for descending through the scree. At 8PM we got into bed - not to sleep.<div><br /></div><div>Back at Horombo Camp we had a late lunch of delicious celery soup, deep fried bread and plantain, together with grilled vegetables and fruit for dessert. Once again, the Marangu Hotel Crew have done us proud. From 3 to 6PM we rested in our hut, sorting through gear that we would be taking on our summit attempt - preparing our 'Warrior Bags' as Susan said (oh yes, I wrote this the first time around!). Unfortunately Ellen had a splitting headache which incapacitated her and when supper time rolled around (way too soon at 6PM) she felt that she couldn't move, let alone eat. The guides on the other hand had a different idea. 'Must eat, must eat'. They brought her some food in the hut and she managed to eat some of it. Typical of this journey, the guides have proved correct and by bed time Ellen was on the way to recovery. Just before bed time I disassembled Sarah's Sidestix. </div><div><br /></div><div>I thought I'd go into some detail because from here-on-in I suspect communication will be somewhat terse because with a heart rate of over 100bpm it's a little disconcerting, but at least we can meditate for a while and ponder the crazy thing we're about to do. At 11PM we will get tea and biscuits and get dressed - ready for a midnight start. However, altitude sickness, cell reception and God-willing I'll continue sending texts on the way to the summit. TTFN</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-6207328763632206932009-01-10T00:25:00.000-08:002009-01-11T14:04:27.045-08:00Saturday morning (Tanzanian time) on Kilimanjaro<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWhhHoLM93I/AAAAAAAACTc/iEfUdvPeHiY/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWhhHoLM93I/AAAAAAAACTc/iEfUdvPeHiY/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289584546018031474" /></a><br /><div>This was written after leaving Horombo Camp enroute to Kibo Camp, reflecting on the previous day. -T</div><div><br /></div>At breakfast Sosta gave us the day's itinerary, which was to climb up to Zebra Rock and then loop around onto the trail that leads to Kibo. This serves the dual purpose of gaining altitude and also seeing tomorrow's route. It was a beautiful hike taking us toward the Mawenzi Peak which rises above the giant groundsel-dotted moorland like a broken tooth. Again, our progress was so slow and deliberate, that if viewed out of context, would be comic in the extreme - like an exotic caterpillar on 'anti-speed'! Zebra Rock is, you guessed it, a black and white striped rock. The stripes are caused by minerals leaching out of the cap rocks of the bluff. The hike to this point had taken about 2 1/2 hours, so we had a short break, took lots of pictures, then set off up the steep serpentine trail to the left of Zebra Rock. About 20 minutes later our breath was taken away by more than just the altitude (about 13,600 ft. at this point). There before us was Kibo, with her apron of alpine desert spread before her and visible in the folds of her skirts the tiny dot of Kibo Camp. It was both exhilarating and disturbing because laid out before us, with absolute clarity was 36 hours of self-inflicted torture. The snaking trail through seemingly endless moorlands, the barren wind-swept saddle between Kibo and Mawenzi, Kibo but then the seemingly impossible grade to Gillman's Point on the crater's edge. Then on up to the glacier and in behind - but no less on our minds, Uhuru, the peak, at 19,340 ft. From the vantage point, we hiked downhill until we joined the early part of the Horombo to Kibo trail, and via this trail, headed back to Horombo camp. On the journey down, my knees complained which was a sobering thought because there are 13,600 ft. of downhill to get us off this mountain.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-17541422370712524722009-01-09T13:57:00.000-08:002009-01-09T14:08:12.166-08:00Today (Friday) we were supposed to start at 7:30AM however actually started at 5:30AM when an energetic East Indian group on the other side of the partition wall started getting ready for their descent. We finally gave up any pretense of sleep at 6:30AM and discussed the night's 'endeavours'. It seemed that it was fairly successful with most of us getting at least 6 hours of continuous sleep , which is not bad at this altitude. At 7:30AM we were greeted by the smiling face of Sosta, the head guide, with a thermos of hot chi tea. I think Sosta's beautiful smile was even more welcome than the teak. At 8:30AM we congregated in the dining hall for another sumptuous meal, comprising water melon, cornflakes with a little milk powder and hot water (it's good...honest) followed by bacon and eggs, and cucumber.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-30152171723080380492009-01-08T22:31:00.000-08:002009-01-08T22:50:36.141-08:00From Horombo Hut, 3720m<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWbzSvD4GZI/AAAAAAAACTU/vZjKVL0qDYM/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWbzSvD4GZI/AAAAAAAACTU/vZjKVL0qDYM/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289182315589147026" /></a><br /><div>By 8:30AM we were yawning and after brief ablutions we hit the sack, having planned with the guides, to get up at 6:00AM - long before other climbers. Back at camp we were treated to a fabulous meal of soup, roasted chicken, potatoes, kale, salad, and bananas for dessert. We chatted about the day and discussed important issues such as 'acclimatization gas' and the very weird fizzing sensation in your fingers. We were greeted at 6:00AM with bowls of hot water ad cups of tea. Breakfast was pretty huge, toast, porridge, eggs, sausages, tomatoes and more tea. We left the camp at 7:30AM and within 20 minutes we were out of the rain forest and in to the moor lands. The sky is clear blue. Ellen is still excited and a little nervous 'thus far'. She hasn't been sleeping too well, however she is managing to rest, the 'tinglies' are really bothering her! Susan unfortunately has a cold, however is hydrating lots and keeping her mind off her congestion by delving into the lives of the guides. Sarah is doing well with only slightly sore palms. The SideStix are performing fabulously. Sarah's using the hiking tips with steell studs and she's as sure as a mountain goat (although she smells better!). I'm (Kerith) doing great. Feeling a little sore in the hips but other than that - no problems. Just so I can keep you up to date, I have my cell phone connected to a solar panel on the outside of my pack! It was a long day today. Seven hours and about 4,000 feet elevation gain. Long slow slog, very hot in the sun, but cooling rapidly as the fog rolled in. Horombo camp is very busy with people returning from the summit attempts and people like us on the way up. It's very sobering talking to people who have attempted and failed, our anxiety levels have gone way up. Today we passed someone being brought down on a wheeled stretcher and a young boy collapsed on the trail in front of us. We've all be hydrating lots and we've all got minor headaches however we will be in Horombo for two nights so we will hopefully acclimatize somewhat. We've all been popping headache pills and Sarah threw up after tea, hopefully this will be an isolated incident. Sarah's SideStix have performed well again, however I had to put in some new studs because she lost a few on the rocks. TTFN<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-25222957938569255862009-01-07T00:00:00.000-08:002009-01-11T14:06:29.383-08:00Word from Mount Kilimanjaro!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWbukqxn3TI/AAAAAAAACTM/5mBP-dhCMqM/s1600-h/Slide1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i7zT5_FR3gs/SWbukqxn3TI/AAAAAAAACTM/5mBP-dhCMqM/s320/Slide1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289177126118350130" /></a><br />With the help from Kerith's son Kelly, text message issues are sorted out and we can now post the teams messages from the mountain (although I still haven't figured out what TTFN stands for!). -Todd<div><br /></div><div>From Mandara Hut at 2675m, the team wrote:</div><div><br /></div><div>"We arrived at Mandara hut after about four hours of extreme 'Pole Pole', enjoying dense tropical rain forest. Amazingly at almost 8,000 feet, the vegetation changed to temperate rain forest, very reminiscent of home. We have just had hot chocolate and popcorn and are now going for a short walk to a nearby crater. The temperature has dropped to 18C and as I sign off a big male Blue Monkey is yelling at us.</div><div>TTFN"</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-42565726528870698332009-01-05T01:28:00.000-08:002009-01-06T02:31:18.444-08:00Climb Day minus One<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWMy9v_21XI/AAAAAAAAA80/S3oE_r3vop0/s1600-h/PIC009-778447.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWMy9v_21XI/AAAAAAAAA80/S3oE_r3vop0/s320/PIC009-778447.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288126423900804466" /></a></p><SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>We are now at the Marangu Hotel. Like the Kibo Hotel, it boasts a 1932 vintage and whereas the Kibo is a more imposing edifice, the Marangu is layed out Campus style in sprawling manicured grounds with rooms comprising individual residences.<br>Our own residence has 8 beds which one would normally consider a little excessive, however right now every bed is strewn with gear, gear and more gear! <br>Dora, the equipment queen/Quarter Master has gone though our stuff, and given invaluable advice over what to bring - and not! <br>On the 'luggage' front, - Sarah's bag has arrived (via Nairobi - go figure!) but not mine! Panic... who me? However I have assurance that it is now in Tanzania and I should receive it later today. Thank god I bought this phone and have been able to 'motivate' the powers that be!</SPAN>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-79885078723464184512009-01-04T09:32:00.000-08:002009-01-05T10:34:37.187-08:00We're at the Kibo Hotel in Marangu.<SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>We left Moshi at around 4pm and took a 30 minute cab ride to the Kibo Hotel in Marangu. This is a stately old place full of mahogany & memories. The concierge, waiters and even the mirriad waiting 'hands', speak in hushed tones of the time that Jimmy Carter came to Kibo. <br><br>We're in the foot hills of Kilimanjaro, and as the elevation increases, so too does our anxiety... "How hard is this really going to be?" We watched a freshly returned group of climbers, noting their serious demeanour and when asked to describe their experience they merely answer "hard, it's all hard."<br><br>We had supper in the stately dining hall which is adourned with trophies of successful summits. Signed flags, teashirts and even a crimson bra, all carry the message that it IS possible. So with that hopeful mantra we are off to bed and let's see what tomorrow brings. TTFN. </SPAN>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-63162608418731753782009-01-04T04:35:00.000-08:002009-01-05T05:39:58.723-08:00We're in Africa!<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWINrlBOtgI/AAAAAAAAA8s/mO6Gijc3758/s1600-h/PIC003-798725.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SWINrlBOtgI/AAAAAAAAA8s/mO6Gijc3758/s320/PIC003-798725.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287803954809189890" /></a></p><SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'>We arrived late last night (minus luggage...) and are now in Moshi - enjoying the local fare and swimming through the heat, sounds, smells & sensations that make up this amazing place. TTFN.</SPAN>Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-57129196297608135052009-01-03T14:11:00.000-08:002009-01-03T14:26:16.932-08:00Novotel in Amsterdam<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SV_mCRxYAgI/AAAAAAAAA8k/gRnBJORj0K8/s1600-h/Novotel+Amsterdam-776934.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SV_mCRxYAgI/AAAAAAAAA8k/gRnBJORj0K8/s320/Novotel+Amsterdam-776934.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287197414360875522" /></a></p>We're tucked up in the Novotel Hotel, by the airport. Had a lovely meal and now we're going to get some well earned rest.<br>TTFN.<p>This email has been sent from an Archos 5.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-5075436722349023692009-01-03T11:16:00.000-08:002009-01-03T13:17:16.022-08:00Air France Rocks (no pun intended!)We left LAX on our 10 hour Air France flight - somewhat jaundiced from our previous airline experiences. However Air France proved to be delightful with great staff, a truly excellent meal an a smooth and uneventful flight. With the added bonus of actual bona-fide SLEEP for 6 hours in the middle of the flight.<p>We arrived at CDG airport in Paris, and there was a short transfer to our next flight (which was Air France again) to Amaterdam. Although only a short flight, we were treated to a lovely supper of salmon locks, mini-croissant with cream cheese and some cream cookies that I really want the recipe for!<p>Our next task is to find a hotel in Amsterdam as our Kilimanjaro flight won't be leaving till 10am tomorrow. Now if I remember right, hotels wih red lights in the doorways mean vacancies... right ?<p>TTFN.<p>This email has been sent from an Archos 5.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-73286063380632835062009-01-02T21:58:00.001-08:002009-01-02T21:58:19.344-08:00It's 10pm and we're setting off for 10 hours of high-altitude fun! Next stop Charles de Gaul airport, France. TTFN.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-63781255437039707052009-01-02T17:32:00.000-08:002009-01-02T17:33:50.855-08:00Spending 'time' on the west coast.We have spent the entire day on the west coast not getting any closer to our destination. In the sage words of Senca (49AD) "It is a small part of life we really live. Indeed, all the rest is not life but merely time."<br>Right now we're just biding time - waiting for life to resume!<p><br>This email has been sent from an Archos 5.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8494833128704788152.post-58643008429624343262009-01-02T17:11:00.000-08:002009-01-02T17:13:20.161-08:00Making the best of a bad thing...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SV67sEMtunI/AAAAAAAAA8c/QU7T1oR7Q7g/s1600-h/Beer+at+the+grill-700163.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hZjiIQp_VoM/SV67sEMtunI/AAAAAAAAA8c/QU7T1oR7Q7g/s320/Beer+at+the+grill-700163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286869378295249522" /></a></p>We are whiling away 7 hours at LAX before our 10 1/2 hour flight to France.<br>TTFN.<p>This email has been sent from an Archos 5.Sarah and Kerithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234453694549979147noreply@blogger.com0