Climbing Kilimanjaro: A Student's Story

The summit - surrounded by black volcanic rock, high above the clouds...

In September 2017 I was lucky enough to have the chance to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest free-standing mountain on Earth. Unfortunately, I wasn’t inspired by the hit song ‘Africa’ by Toto and its meme ecosystem, but by a poster at university. Nevertheless, it was a truly life changing experience and I have no regrets. As well as the chance to witness incredible views and do some serious cardio, it also represented an opportunity to meet some new people and enjoy a week of independent travel in Tanzania afterwards. The appeal was obvious, and I wasted no time in signing up. Raising £3000 wasn’t easy, but was worth it. Although I would recommend not getting into a heated argument with an angry farmer about local fundraising bylaws! Nevertheless, after the odd cupcake sale, pub quizzes and a few begging letters, the Bristol team was ready. There were five of us in total, joined by teams from Durham, Brighton and Chester. We collectively had raised £25,000 for the clean water charity ‘Dig Deep’, which works to provide clean water and sanitation facilities to impoverished villages in rural Kenya.

Minibus breakdown scare

The journey went smoothly at first, with the Emirates economy experience delightful as ever. We didn’t get used to the comfort though, and before we knew it were on a minbus driving through the bustling streets of Dar Es Salaam. After a brief stay at a suburban hotel (featuring the odd tortoise) we began the 4-hour journey to Moshi, a town at the foot of the mega mountain. The journey turned out to take 11 hours, after the bus broke down halfway through rural Tanzania. Luckily, this proved to be a useful bonding opportunity (pain brought us together). Eventually we made it to our destination, relatively intact and very relieved. We ate well that night, with the first day of the climb ready to greet us at dawn. It was time…

I knew climbing a 5,895m mountain was going to be a challenge, and at first, I was pleasantly surprised at the ease of it all. The ascent took 4 days, with the first day surprisingly gentle. I guess it was nature lulling as all into a false sense of security. The start consisted of a smooth mud path through the first ecological zone: the jungle. It was an opportunity for further gossip with the eclectic mix of idealistic, kind and hilarious people (and you get to know them all well on a 6-day hike, being away from technology and work commitments). The atmosphere was further enhanced by the wonderful local guides, who carried our tents and food supplies. I was also fortunate to find that my friendly tentmate Ben was highly methodological and organised, which was a bonus!

The second day saw us break through the treeline, with the path giving way to a more rugged landscape of rocky outcrops and shrubbery. The summit came into view, looming ominously, as birds of prey circled above us. The challenge suddenly seemed all the more real. Nevertheless, despite the climb getting steeper, the day finished in the early afternoon, giving us some valuable ‘chill time’. The group dynamics had begun to settle, with in jokes and abstract conversations powering us through the last kilometre or so. Once at camp, we were treated to a traditional dance by the porters. At first, we watched with embarrassed laughter, but soon enough we joined in and it turned out to be (dare I say it) very enjoyable. It was as if the hard English exterior had been broken by the free-spirited guides and (perhaps) low oxygen levels. The food that evening was as fantastic as ever, comfortably surpassing my university cooking (which probably has hit ‘peak cupcake’).

Author at first camp

The banter stayed consistent we ascended the next kilometre. The shrubbery subsided as the oxygen thinned. By this point, the scenery was Martian like. There were more sub-peaks and vast valleys over every crest. Day 3 saw us gradually break through the cloud line, with mist enveloping us as we passed strange cactus like foliage. It did seem quite literally to be out of this world; putting tripping into the trip (as I joked, desperately trying to have a cool Bristol persona!). Worries about post Brexit Britain and Facebook fake news clickbait seemed futile as the summit occasionally came into view through the fog. The mighty mountain was even more dramatic than my 4 hour debate on religion with a fellow climber. When you are on Kilimanjaro, the politics seminar never ends. It was great! The night of day 3, apart from contending with the less-than satisfactory mountain sanitary facilities, was a welcome break.

A spooky mist descends (very outer space...you can almost imagine Brian Cox emerging out of the fog)

Day 4 started with great difficulty. Thankfully, I managed a good sleep and enough caffeine to take on the famed Baranko wall; a steep 250m lava deposit that welcomed the team to the penultimate day of climbing. I was relieved to stop at a base camp at 1pm, then shocked to discover that we would be skipping this encampment and making our way up to the next one up. I should have listened in the briefing to be fair! At this point, we all realised it wasn’t going to get any easier…

Above the treeline!

On the final night I managed an impressive 0 hours of sleep, after going to bed at 7pm and waking up at the generous time of 11pm. However, despite my sleep concerns, I knew the only option (in all our minds) was to keep going. We had 1km more to climb, and this summit ascent would take 7 hours overnight. We set off in a tired but determined silence, into the dark cold night. Gravel slipped beneath our feet and our water began to freeze, all very much part of the fun. As we closed in on our goal, half the group was crying from the physical and mental strain. Of course, as a male I cannot cry so of course did not. I definitely did not…

At around 7am, with the sun rising above the clouds far below us, we made it. Every single one of us managed, and photos were taken as we caught our breath. Altitude sickness and unprecedented exhaustion afflicted us all, and the smiles were fairly forced, but we had done it; we had made it to the incredible roof of Africa. I gawped at the huge crater, with my 20 new friends around me experiencing the entire emotional spectrum seemingly all at once. The sun had climbed just a little more into the sky, illuminating the vast sheets of clouds far below us. We were standing 5,895m up on the highest freestanding mountain in the world. Not something I could fully appreciate at the time amidst the physical and mental strain, but truly spectacular nonetheless.

A forced and tired smile!

Just ten minutes later it was time to turn back around and say goodbye to Uhuru Peak. The two-day descent was a more relaxed affair, with the group in high spirits after making it to that glorious summit. Deadlines, technology, family and the ominous Brexit shadow loomed back into my consciousness. It was a relief however to rediscover air that contained enough oxygen. Breathing generally helps make life a bit easier.

The group spent the following week on safari and at a surprisingly luxurious hotel on the island of Zanzibar. Local beers were consumed by the pool, and complimentary breakfasts hoovered down. We didn’t hesitate to embrace the Western lifestyle! We visited the historic Stonetown where we bought copious amounts of hand crafted souvenirs, sending the Tanzanian economy into double figure growth rates. In addition, we visited a giant tortoise sanctuary and snorkelled in an environment so tropical that I thought I might be trapped in a PC screensaver.

The trip really was an amazing once-in-a-lifetime experience. If the reader is thinking about putting off those internships for a summer, I would heartily recommend doing a challenge like this. As well as saving lives, you meet some great people. Plus, managed to get a girlfriend out of it. Therefore, my advice would be: Forget Tinder, climb Kilimanjaro!

(You can also consume this beer without climbing Kilimanjaro, if preferred...)