Thurs 20 Sep
Up early for what was to be a sustained descent through moorland and our first stopping point was at Mandara (2700m), the first stopping place on the Marangu route. There was a noticeable difference in the vegetation the further we descended as it became much lusher and more tropical plus we also spotted some monkeys lurking in the trees. After another couple of hrs trekking we finally reached the National Park gate at Marangu (1830m) where we officially finished our Kili climb and signed the logbook for the final time.
Jeeps were waiting for us and we quickly drove back to the hotel for a well deserved and much needed shower. It took a couple of showers and as long as there was hot water but we all, more or less, eventually managed to return to former shades of ourselves and started the celebrations with the obligatory bottle of Kilimanjaro by the hotel pool, which was like nectar and would have turned into an all night session if hadn’t been for yet another early start the next morning with our flight to Zanzibar.

Fri 21 Sep
We set off in two jeeps to get to Kilimanjaro International Airport. The jeep I was in was the first to arrive and after 5mins or so when we didn’t see the other jeep, panic stations started to set in as the screen was flashing the departure sign for our Zanzibar flight. After 15mins they rolled in, and it turns out they were late because of bank trouble and trying to find an ATM machine that would accept their cards. We offloaded our luggage and legged it to check in. There were a couple of people in front of me and they were told to run to get the flight and then it was my turn and I was met with the same message. After running to the departure gate with the people who were just ahead of me, it transpired passengers for our flight still hadn’t boarded yet. Plus, when the other trekker behind had caught up with the rest of us, she told me that as I had left, the check-in girl who was about to put the luggage label on my case had casually tossed it to the ground, put her bag on top of mine and proceeded to charge her because her bags were overweight. Fortunately the girl told them to put my bag on the carousel and to weigh her bag again which “magically” resolved everything. Moral of the story, make sure you see your bags being checked in.
The plane eventually took off and we were finally on our way to Zanzibar. The flight over was quite short and the plane flew quite low. Once we arrived and disembarked, the difference was immediate with the high temperatures and the clear azure sky, after Kili adventure it finally felt like we were on holiday.
African Walking Tours had arranged a bus for us to take us to our hotel, the Sau Inn which was on the south east coast of the island at Jambiani and it was a little slice of heaven. The hotel was on the oceanfront and the beaches really do merit all those superlatives describing their finer qualities. After checking in we spent the first day drowning copious quantities of Kilimanjaro and enjoying the seafood while taking in the great sea view and beach. The hotel also had a diving school attached to it and we got some great photos watching people go off for their practice dives. One of the girls managed to book a dolphin spotting cruise the next day to keep the momentum going.

Sat 22 Sep
Yet another early start and we left around 8.30 for Kizimkazi where a dhow was waiting to take us out to the Indian ocean. A couple of other dhows, much faster than ours, were also going out in the same direction so we weren’t sure about our chances of spotting any dolphins. Once we were far enough out, and started to drift, our guide saw them but they had eluded our eyes and we quickly followed them. Once he caught sight of the small school of dolphins riding the waves, it was quickly into the water and everyone was charging back and forth trying to keep up with them
We got back to shore just after midday and had lunch and it back to the hotel for some more time on the sun loungers by the ocean. After dinner that evening, we took a moonlit walk along the beach to a hotel further on up the beach where a party was going on and sampled some of the deceptively strong cocktails which finished off a great day.

Sun 23 Sep
We left Jambiani and travelled to Stonetown which was to be our final stop on our brief Zanzibar tour. Stonetown has to be seen to be believed and after the relative peace and quiet of the last few days on beach at Jambiani it was an assault to the senses. Our hotel, the Hotel International, was on the outskirts of the old part of town, but as the streets were so narrow, we had to go the last half kilometre on foot to get there. The town is a tapestry of sights and sounds. The Hotel International could have been a sight in itself, it was supposedly styled like a Swiss cuckoo clock, this was what the guidebook said and the bizarre thing it did in a way resemble that. There were four floors but there could have been twenty four floors given the steepness of the flights of stairs that we had to climb and as luck would have most of us were on the fourth floor. Our thigh and calf muscles were still recovering from Kili and most of us were clutching the banister when we were going up to our rooms.
After refreshing, we got some lunch and started our tour of Stonetown. This was also our opportunity to get some needed souvenirs and some people in our group were more successful than others in haggling with the locals. It was fun but it did get to be a bit wearisome especially when some of them tried to follow you and wanted to introduce to their friend who could offer us a very good price and some of them were admirably resistant to our attempts to shake them off.
We discovered some fixed price stores which had air-conditioning and finished getting last bits and pieces there. After that as one of our group had been to Zanzibar before, she took us to the Serena Inn, a chain of hotels owned by the Aga Khan and we had small bite to eat there. Mental note for the next time, as that place was excellent.

Mon 24 Sep
Our last day on Zanzibar and the adventure promised to continue right up to the departure. I said goodbye to my room mate as he was the first to leave. We had set the alarm clock but needn’t have bothered as right on cue at 4am, we were woken up by the call to prayer at the mosque and the chanting and praying continued for an uninterrupted 45 mins. It was listening to a gospel choir and it seemed that our hotel was and my bedroom window was overlooking the mosque. After that sleep was intermittent, until breakfast time.
We had just over half the day left before we had to go to the airport. We spent the time wondering along the shorefront and going back to the Serena Inn for a slap up lunch and the sea food was scrumptious and flavoured with the best of the island’s spices. A great way to end the holiday and celebrate my birthday, with a view overlooking the Indian Ocean.
After legging it back to the hotel, we caught the bus to the airport. Though the airport is small, it was still difficult to figure out where to check out and we had to stand out in the heat of the afternoon sun while staff seemed to turn up intermittently to check people in. Umbrellas were passed out as some people were beginning to wilt under the glare of the afternoon sun. Eventually word filtered through our small queue that the plane was already full because of passengers bumped off an earlier flight where the aeroplane was too small and so they were taking spaces on ours and subsequently we were to be the next lot bumped off. After waiting needlessly in the fierce heat, mutiny was threatening to break out and after a lot of fierce debate, some helpful staff managed to get us on different flights. I was supposed to be flying back to Nairobi and catching a flight there to Amsterdam and then to Dublin, instead myself and most people who were bumped off the Nairobi one were now going to Dar Es Salam and taking a KLM flight there to Amsterdam. The layover in Dar was long but we were all grateful to have got a flight and seat. And so began the long journey back to reality…

I came across this quote on another blog about Kili and it does begin to summarise my own experience of climbing Kilimanjaro; George Mallory, when asked why he wanted to climb Everest, simply replied, “Because it is there.”
I still can’t describe why I have wanted to climb this mountain and why it has held my imagination captive but the memory of getting to the summit will always stay with me. It was as many previous climbers remarked when describing their own personal experiences, the most single most difficult mental and physical challenge I’ve ever faced and overcome successfully. I don’t have much to show for it apart from a fading tan but what I will take away with me from this experience is the knowledge that I was capable of such a feat and seeing it all the way through, from its highs and lows, to the end, and being stronger for it. That will always stay with me, and it helped to put many things into much needed perspective.

Wed 19 Sep
I still don’t think enough research could have prepared anyone for how tough the final ascent and descent would be, and if I had known then what I know now, it would have made little difference.
At midnight after a comforting cup of hot tea, we set off with several guides and porters accompanying us. Our pace was deliberately pole, pole, slowly, slowly. The ascent was about 6-7hrs long. The first part of the slope had a gentle incline but after the first hour trekking the gradient became much steeper, and the higher we ascended the more strained our breathing became. We followed our guides in a zigzag pattern to prevent us ascending so rapidly but it was still quite challenging. After the first hour one of the girls had a headache that wasn’t letting up and she was quickly frogmarched down to Kibo.

We stopped for several times during the first few hours and the relief was immense but we couldn’t enjoy them too much as we would have risked getting frostbite. Our pace was steady and very slow and we could see the headlights of other trekkers snaking their way up the slope just in front of us. My mind started to wonder and the first couple of hours were spent battling the temptation to turn back and it wasn’t made any easier by passing other climbers who had stopped and were gasping for what seemed their to be last breath. I then tried to concentrate on remembering various songs, memory games and poems but ran through most of those quite quickly, the thin air was doing something to my brain chemistry at that point and I then tried to focus on my walking and keep a steady rhythm going which proved as challenging. The trek up the scree seemed endless and it was always on the tip of my tongue to start asking, “Are we not there yet……?”, it wasn’t helped either by the porters continually saying to us, “only another 3hrs to Gilman’s point”. They were also leaping about like mountain goats and singing nursery rhymes like Baa baa black sheep… while we were staggering along barely coherent and just about managing to breathe. The worst song which was our main soundtrack going up was “If you’re happy and you know, sing Yahoooo”, the temptation to chuck whoever was singing that down the slope was overwhelming and difficult to resist!
I had this light on/off headache most of the way up and a couple of people in the group had to throw up. We were quite lucky that none of us had any worse symptoms than those.
We eventually made it to Gilman’s Point and the relief was bittersweet when we were informed that we had about another couple of hrs to go to reach Uhuru (Freedom) Peak, but balanced by a welcome cup of sweet warm tea. When we were making the most of our mini break we saw a forest fire in the distance and we later learned when we were back in the hotel that the Rongai Route was temporarily closed for the next group of climbers. After the tea we were back on our way and the sun was starting to peep out on the horizon. We walked around the crater and were hugging the edge at times, as one sudden stumble could send you hurtling down the side in the blink of any eye.

The sun was gradually rising and we had to stop to appreciate the moment, as the colours seemed to be taken direct from an artist’s palette. This was followed by a quick pee break, which again made it all the more surreal, and the highest point I hope I ever have to urinate. I’m approaching the highest point in Africa, taking in breathtaking scenery, sometimes hanging on for dear life and have the bladder of an incontinent old man because of acclimatization.
We were pretty worn out at that point but our spirits were lifted as we saw a small group of people in the distance approaching Uhuru point and adrenaline carried us forward those last few metres, which made us temporarily forget our difficulties breathing. The porters started to hug us in congratulations and our dazed bodies tried to absorb the fact that we had finally made it. It was surprising the amount of people that were already there, each one waiting impatiently for his/her ultimate Kodak moment. I still remember this woman who was there with her two daughters and who was causing a mini traffic jam by holding up the queue as she insisted on taking several photos with the two girls with the cover of a Hello magazine showing Princes William and Harry, together and then individual pictures with the magazine cover. Royalty was getting a piggy back at our expense. After that it was time to get ruthless and we started to get out photo moments captured, we only had so long and physically we couldn’t afford to hang around.

Now, with memory being great at editing and ironing out most of the sheer hard slog of the climb, it was and is both humbling and exhilarating to have gone in the steps of the many people whose stories I’ve read on various sites and helped in preparing my own climb and I have now added my footprints to theirs’ at Kilimanjaro.

Seven of us out of the initial group of ten had finally made it all the way to the top. While the others in the group were getting their photos taken I was able to grab a few more photos of the stunning landscape and drink in more of the uniqueness of the place. Once everyone was ready and our batteries recharged by the euphoria of the moment, we were more than ready to make our way back. All our moods were lighter and everything was going well until we reached the slope to start the descent. I remember thinking that it was surely better not being able to see make out what the hell we were climbing when we started out in the dark 7hrs earlier, that our senses were quite numb and we really couldn’t comprehend it all. But now looking down at the 45 degrees gradient, it seemed initially impossible to descend such a vertiginous drop, never mind the length of it. The frost had gone so our feet were sinking into the scree but this was to our advantage. After watching a few porters go down, it seemed the way to crack the descent was to go at it downhill skiing style. It was difficult initially to get a rhythm going and it was hampered by the pertinent fact that a sudden lurch forward could send you hurtling down the slope faster than Humpty Dumpy fell of his wall. But what goes up has to come down and I kept telling myself that every step down meant my lungs were going to love me a bit more after what they had to go through. This was at the expense of my knees which were contemplating a divorce from the rest of me.

I got started and some people have written about this being one of the best and easy parts. WTF?? It took at least a solid 3hrs and that’s a conservative estimate as we all kept stopping and starting so we could catch our breath, silently beg our knees to hang on and pray that this would all end very soon. The walking poles really came into their own here and I couldn’t have done it without them, especially for the additional support they offered.
After finally making it to the bottom, my feet were just about able to stagger back to the tent. We briefly lay down for just under an hour and then had lunch, fortunately the girl who had to suddenly come down when we were an hour into the trek had recovered and was over her altitude symptoms.

After lunch we had to quickly pack as were to leave Kibo and make our way down the Marangu route. Our campsite that night was going to be at Horombo at 3720m. This was quite a hard trek but tempered by the realisation that we were almost finished and hot showers awaited us. As it had been quite a long day we turned in quite early that evening though a couple of the guys had an unexpected four legged visitor in their tent when a mouse decided to keep them company. After some energetic scrambling around they managed to convince the mouse to find its own shelter for that night elsewhere.

Killing Kili

I’m am a fan of some people’s blogs but new to blogging per se and so follow those who have gone bravely before me.

Here’s my account of killing Kili and conquering the summit. I cheerfully admit to plagiarizing the name from other sources but I’ve earned the right to call the mountain that now and that expression cannot be bettered plus it’s late and I’m too tired to think of another name and I have to get up for work in a few hours time.

Thurs 13 Sep 07

Finally made it to Africa and more importantly the luggage as well. I had read too many horror stories of people losing their luggage on way to climb Kili so it was a great relief that all my gear made it.

The plane was full and it was reassuring at Amsterdam seeing other trekkers dressed in their combats and hiking boots, all of us with the same objective. Kilimanjaro Airport was quite small and my first introduction to African bureaucracy. I was met by Richard of African Walking Tours and was really glad to have organized the airport transfer in advance as there were no taxis outside at that time of night and it took about 2 hrs to reach the hotel. The last 4 hrs almost killed the car’s suspension as it was more of a dirt road than a road.

Fri 14 Sep

I spent the day mainly at the hotel and I’m glad I arrived the day before as the hotel, the Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, is located about 2000m above sea level and the acclimatization had already begun.

I had breakfast and saw a couple of other climbers having their victory breakfast, and who were preparing to leave the hotel. I decided to do some exploring and went next door to the hotel to the Chagga Live Museum where I met the other land only passenger who has been living and working on and off in East Africa the past couple of years. The museum was not that much but what it lacked in substance, it made up in the enthusiasm of the guide who really brought his subject to life with his vivid accounts of lives lived long ago.

We went back to the hotel and had lunch and in the course of eating we met the other Exodus trekkers who arrived later than expected and without their bags as their plane was already overweight and couldn’t take the additional weight. The other trekkers were from Scotland, Wales and England and as the solitary Irish guy we made up quite an eclectic bunch with our diverse backgrounds and stories. Ambassadors of adventure or mad fools, we were now all finally here and on the eve of departing.

We all had dinner that evening followed by a briefing from a guide with the African Walking Company who were Exodus's ground agent and going to be organizing the trek. They had our rented sleeping bags and down jackets, and gave us a thorough briefing of what lay ahead of us. I had done a lot of research online and read about other people’s experiences going up Kili but it was still quite sobering and intimidating listening to a guide who had gone up some 200+ times and had seen it all. After that we quickly turned in as we had an early start the next day, but there was little sleep that night as the guy who I was sharing with snored like an elephant in heat.

Sat 15 Sep

Up for breakfast and we had to wait out front for the jeeps to come to pick us up. While waiting I went through another trekker’s guidebook and discovered this fact which I’ve never come across in any of the blogs I’ve read, (maybe they were too shy to write about it or just choose not to pay any attention to it, or did not know about it, who knows…) but apparently it’s “a well known fact that the regular breaking of wind is a sure sign that you’re acclimatizing satisfactorily” (Henry Stedman from his guidebook, Kilimanjaro). I thought it was just indigestion from dinner the previous evening but apparently vociferous and cheerful flatulence is to be welcome as is frequent peeing, while the arrival of a bruising headache combined with a loss of sleep and appetite are the negative symptoms of those struggling to adapt to sudden changes in altitude.

We eventually set off in two 4WDs. I was piggy in the middle in the back and a bit squashed but this was to my advantage when we were on our way as the front windows were down and my companions on both sides were quickly covered in dust from the dirt track we were driving on, and my contacts were still bearable.

We were taking the Rongai route up Kili which is one of the least popular and frequented routes and on the Kenyan border. So for 2 ½hrs we shaked, rattled and rolled our way there and also helped to accelerate the digestion of our breakfast in the meantime.

We finally arrived at the start of the Rongai or the Nalemuru route. It appeared we were the only trekkers there until we met four Irish girls from the west coast of Ireland, otherwise the only people there were the porters who were distributing the various loads among themselves. Those guys are truly impressive and it was a bit uncomfortable to see them sort out our duffle bags among themselves while we only had to deal with our considerably lighter daypacks. All of them were really friendly and move so nimbly in comparison to us gangly, clumsy foreigners. They really made the trip for all of us.

Off we start and it’s hard to believe that I’m off after so many years dreaming of making this journey. The first day was only a ½ day trek of about 4 hrs on a small path that had a steady and consistent gradient through a lush forest and it was quite a gentle introduction for what lay ahead of us. We eventually arrived at our campsite where the porters had water ready for washing which was unexpected but welcome. There is no nook, cranny, pore or orifice that the dust will not enter and you quickly learn to love your wet wipes.

After our wash, we went off for a brief acclimatization walk that turned into a mini-adventure. Our guide pointed our some elephant spore to us which got some of the girls excited (there were 3 vets in our group) and we saw some elephant tracks along the very path we were trekking on. As we were looking down and listening to the guide talking, we all heard the unmistakably loud trumpet of one echoing across the landscape but how close we did not want to contemplate that very moment. We were instantly as still as mice, and our guide seemed to be the most petrified among us all. After looking at each other in terrified amusement, the guide after a minute or two decided the coast was clear and with him leading the way we fled back down the path. This was bit more adventure than we all anticipated and it gave our trek on the first day that extra edge of excitement.

After having our appetites sufficiently whetted, dinner was served shortly after and the cook really excelled himself. The food was well prepared and was much better than the meals we had at the hotel; every day lunch and dinner began with soup to encourage a sufficient intake of water followed by a heavy carbohydrate packed main course.

That evening over dinner also generated the quote of the trip. Personal vanity and modesty quickly fall by the wayside when trekking up Kili, and we got to talking about personal hygiene given that one of the group had made the effort to shave earlier when washing. Some of us guys hadn’t shaved and were cultivating several degrees of designer stubble that George Michael would have been proud of, and one guy had slightly more stubble than he normally would have because of a lack of beard in general and which he was carefully cultivating. This new beard led one of the girls to remark “I shave my armpits more than you shave your chin!”.

After dinner we went to bed and none of us really got much sleep that first night. Camp that day was 2600m and no signs of altitude sickness. Lots of farting and peeing that day so hopefully acclimatizing well.

Sun 16 Sep

Porters woke us with a cup of tea and water for washing, small touches that helped to make us feel more human after a restless first night. After a filling and substantial breakfast of porridge followed by bacon and eggs, we packed our bags, got our water and were off once more. I had taken some of those energy drink supplements which flavoured the water and gave you some extra energy from the fructose and other ingredients, rather than drinking water which only washes through you. They really made a difference as you were metabolising your food a lot faster than usual.

The second day started cloudy and stayed that way all day. Our trek that day was a steady but inexorable ascent up to the “Second Cave” at 3450m. I had to break out the poncho as the mist rolled in quite fast and I quickly metamorphosed into a combination of a beached whale and the hunchback of Kilimanjaro. They’re not the most flattering of things to wear but very practical and a few of the porters had them on. I preferred them to waterproofs that other people in the group were wearing, you sweated less as the air could easily circulate more and they were easy to put on and remove.

After lunch in the First Cave or Second Cave, I don’t remember which, we headed off in the direction of Mawenzi. We were on the 6 day Rongai route with an extra day included for acclimatization and were trekking across moorland on a smaller path towards the jagged peaks of Mawenzi, the second of Kilimanjaro’s volcanoes. Our campsite that day was in a sheltered valley near the Kikelewa Caves at 3600m.

Due to the mist and damp conditions, trekking that day was more difficult and I slipped a couple of times as part of the path was a bit treacherous and lightly sprained my ankle, but a support bandage and ibrobrufen helped that night.

My main excitement that day while trekking was that my bladder burst. Bladder, as in water bladder aka camelbak, though with the frequent peeing (Mother Earth has never been so well fertilized) it could have been the more literal one, apart from the constant dripping of orange isotonic flavoured water down my backside and squelching with each step. Fortunately, Ron, another trekker helped me to get my backpack off and bending backwards wrung my fleece and t-shirt off the excess water. We must had made quite an absurd sight looking back on it now but your fellow trekkers are your best support and a sense of humour can help you make light of it all. I had some plastic bags buried at the bottom of my rucksack and could quickly salvage the other contents inside the rucksack. It transpired that the tube connected to the water bladder/container had worked itself loose, probably because the camelbak itself was quite new and therefore the tube still quite stiff and inflexible.

Two people had to leave that evening as one of them was quite ill and his friend decided to accompany him down the mountain. They left that evening and trekked during the night which was quite an adventure in itself given our brief experience with the wildlife the previous evening.

To Diamox or not Diamox, that is the question. I took the decision to start the Diamox the next day. While there are many schools of thought on the subject, the ultimate decision to take the drug is an individual one and that was the best piece of advice I found when researching the subject online. I had an on/off headache that evening and was very tired and lethargic, which was due in part to having to trek in wet clothes for a couple of hours. One of the other trekkers had already started on the Diamox before she commenced the climb and so far no side effects, and as a sea level dwelling person I wanted to give myself the best possible chance of success having come this far.

Mon 17 Sep

Got up that morning and we were down to 8 people, it was quite sobering and we all hoped they had made it down safely during the night.

Quite a steep climb today with some stunning vistas. The fauna was quite interesting as there were some unique plants in the moorland we were passing through, though we also came across some thistles more native to Scotland than Tanzania.

Mist rolled in quite quickly so the poncho had to come out as we trekked in the direction of Mawenzi Tarn which is set in a valley. The temperature dropped quite suddenly and we saw snow glaciers for the first time. We were now at 4330m and we all felt it and started to shiver more. Had another surreal moment today, when I was going pole, pole, slowly,slowly with another trekker, a porter was taking up the rear and had a radio blasting away with Kenny Rogers and then Michael Bolton belting away and accompanying us up the slope; I can still hear them now as I write this.

The Diamox side effects had started to kick in with tingling fingers and thumbs, it wasn’t unpleasant and it felt good that the Diamox was starting to kick in or maybe that could have been a placebo effect. I had to take a paracetomol later for a sore throat and sinusitis that had started to kick in big time.

We went for another acclimatization walk and most of us felt the difference that evening with some acute mountain sickness symptoms, mainly a loss of appetite and minor headaches.

After dinner, I took a couple of water bottles, and Magyver style improvised by using them as a makeshift hot water press at the bottom of my sleeping bag to dry off the damp t-shirt and trousers from yesterday. I was using my spare pair and needed to dry the other clothes for the next day's trekking.

Tues 18 Sep

Another early start, and after breakfast and our fresh refills of water, we set off. It was a short trek today and we were finally rewarded with our first glimpse of Kilimanjaro, which until then had consistently eluded us. We were coming round the corner, leaving Mawenzi behind and about to start crossing the beautiful but stark and barren lunar desert of the “Saddle” and there she was, rising up in front of us, in all her majesty. There it stood, this mountain that had captured my imagination many years ago. Even the most lyrical and imaginative description cannot describe or construe in one’s eyes the image of this geological tumour in just a glance. What is about this mountain that attracts so many people to make this pilgrimage to her?

There were amazing views of the Saddle and many great photo opportunities this high above the clouds. Our destination today was Kibo and the trek across the Saddle was relentless. As well as seeing Kilimanjaro, we also saw the sun and glimpses of a bright blue sky for the first time. It was quite warm but it quickly changed about an hour into the trek with the arrival of a sharp cold biting wind and we had to stop to put on our fleeces.

The trek across the Saddle, while beautiful, seemed endless and the closer we seemed to get to Kibo camp, the more it teased us the promise that we were almost there. We stopped for a water break and someone, either a fellow trekker or a porter had made a sign saying BIG SMILE which shored up our spirits and served to spur us on.

We eventually arrived and Kibo was a hive of activity. We signed the logbook and quickly got lunch. We rested that afternoon and had an early dinner with a briefing afterwards to tell us what to prepare and expect in about 6 hrs time.

Some of the group had spoken to a couple of people who had just come back about a couple of hours earlier, they were exhilarated but shattered and wrecked from the long trek. Was this to be a harbinger of what was to come? Nerves started to set in along with excitement and a desperate need to pee, bloody Diamox.

After dinner we went back to our tents to sleep which proved futile. We were woken around 11pm and I had already changed into the base layers earlier and left the outer layers until when we were to be called. The temperature had plummeted considerably and after a cup of tea we were to begin our summit attempt.