It was a slog. It was probably the hardest slog of my life. But it was what we had come to Kilimanjaro to do.

The day before the final ascent was a bit of a strange one. Following on from the previous day, which was probably the longest walking day we had had so far, this one was relatively easy. We set off at about 8.15 a.m. and had a slow start up a long, steepish slope. By this time we were amongst a number of other parties, all going in the same direction. With all of the porters, it was veritable ‘trail of humanity’ across the mountain side. The weather was glorious and we had great views of the Kibo summit and of Mount Meru in the distance. The land was barren, as we were above the altitude that most vegetation – and most sensible humans – were found. But the walk was only a little over three hours before we reached Barafu, the final camp on our way to the summit.

The trail of humanity

We lunched at about 1.15pm and then had our ‘summit briefing’. We were told the timetable for the climb and the climbing conditions we would meet. We were told what to wear (lots, as it was going to be cold). And we were told not to give up when it became tough, but at the same time to be aware what our bodies were telling us. If we got severe headaches or other medical conditions we were to tell the guides who would be with us. This was NOT to be a ‘success at all costs’ mission – everyone needed to stay safe. Acute Mountain Sickness can have fatal consequences if ignored.

Darren, Joanne, Florence and Jonathan

Me, shamelessly advertising Coeliac UK

In theory, the afternoon and the evening were for resting and ideally for sleeping, as our ascent would start around midnight and take place during the night. However, I did not get much sleep and I would be surprised if many people did. Sleeping in the tent – as you will recall, NOT my favourite part of the trip – was made even harder this time by a combination of high altitude, a noisy campsite and the fact that our tent was pitched on what seemed to be stones, rocks and boulders! Comfortable, not! Also, to be honest, sleeping was made difficult by the excitement of the challenge ahead.

We were up at 11 p.m. for a final meal before setting off. And come 12.05, we were on the move. This was it.

The start of the journey is the part I can remember. It was such a surreal experience. Our party of 15, together with our guides and a number of porters, were not the first to set off. There was already a trail of tiny lights from the head-torches of the walkers in front of us. The lights already stretched what seemed to be a long way up the mountain. But at the same time we were walking alongside another party, perhaps some 20m to our left. We were all walking Polepole (slowly-slowly), but gradually converging as our paths came together to a common point. It was like a bizarre slow-motion race. The two groups merged, with only a small amount of pushing and shoving!

The first part of the journey was actually the one that involved the most scrambling over the bare rock, rather than just walking. Probably a good job, as we were at our best at this point. I hate to think how I would have coped if I had to do this 5 or 6 hours in to the climb.

After that, we had a relatively easy walk for an hour or so. Well, I say easy. The weather was clear and cold, and the wind made it colder. Temperatures were certainly below 0⁰C, which was confirmed when our drinking water started to freeze. Florence and the rest of the guides kept us moving, probably for longer and with fewer and shorter breaks than many of us would have desired. But the simple logic behind this was that when we were moving we were keeping warm; when we were resting, we were getting cold.

Apart from the cold, the other big factor was the effect of altitude.  As I mentioned last time, this has a number of effects. The one that played the biggest part in my climb was the lack of oxygen and the difficulty that this caused in breathing. The higher I climbed, the more I became short of breath, and the harder it was to carry on walking.

After the first couple of hours, the climbing was zig-zagging across the mountain side. Whilst this would have been a stiff walk at sea level, it was an absolutely energy-sapping one at altitudes of over 5,000m. Most of the time I was simply looking down at the boots of the person in front of me and following their foot steps. When I did occasionally look up, I saw the trail of tiny lights above me on the mountainside, always stretching away into the distance.

And this is where it all gets a bit hazy. As well as the physical effort, it became a mental challenge. How to keep going? When your body says please ‘stop for a long rest, or even better, take me down!’

The things that got me to the top:

• Replaying in my mind the messages of support I had received before setting off
• The thought that I was raising money for charity
• The sense of achievement I knew I would get if I did get to the top
• The desire to tell people that I had made it to the top
• The camaraderie we had developed within out group over the last few days
• The help and support of the team of guides and porters.

So, this is where all of the hours and hours of work I had put in over the last six months paid off. The physical work of exercise and the mental work of telling so many people of my crazy plan to climb Kilimanjaro. I was very fortunate in that, apart from the breathing and the tiredness, I was physically okay to carry on. Not all of our party were. So for me, it was the mental challenge.

I had taken with me on the trip to Kilimanjaro various messages of support. Some of these were short messages, such as the ones people had left when donating money to the charity website (http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/TonyBarradell). Some were longer messages from Christine, my family and some of my friends. One was a picture drawn by my 6 year old nephew, James, showing me on top of the mountain. And all were inspirational in their own way.

Sunrise over Mawnzi

After what seemed to be an eternity, the sun started to rise and the darkness turned to gloom, and then half-light and then full sunshine. And so I approached the rim of Kibo, the highest of the two mountain peaks that make up Kilimanjaro. Stella Point was the first target. There I met up with some of my party, and other exhausted but exhilarated climbers. But that was not the end point (at least not for all). After an all-too-brief rest our guides said that if we wanted to get to the top we must set off now. Jonathan and I were at the back of the party who had made it to the top.  We then had a further walk for about another 45 minutes or so to the highest point on the mountain, Uhuru Peak. The walking was not too difficult and we only gained another 150m or so. But we were shattered by this point. The 45 minutes was a LONG 45 minutes, and a number of times we reached a high point, only to find that beyond it, and previously out of sight, the path continued yet further.

Me at Stella Point, shamelessly advertising New College, Leicester

Jonathan at Stella Point

However, at approx. 7.30am on Friday 6^th February 2015 Jonathan and I both reached the Uhuru Peak, the highest point on Mount Kilimanjaro. At 5,895m this is the highest point on the African continent, at an oxygen-deprived 5,895m above sea level. It is higher than any point in Europe, Australasia, South East Asia or Antarctica. But we had made it!

Getting to the top was hard. Very hard. And it was only through the support of others I made it. And I think I will make that my lesson for this post. Lesson 13 – getting to the top is always that much easier if you have the support of others. So nurture your relationships. And be prepared to help others to achieve their dreams, and they will help you to achieve yours.

Next time – my final reflections on Kilimanjaro – There and Back Again.

I won’t take you on a day by day account of our journey across Kilimanjaro. I’ll save that for the book, or better still the trilogy. Or better still the Star-Wars-style x-ology, whatever x turns out to be! Instead I will tell you something of the highs and the lows as we traversed the mountain, gradually gaining altitude as we moved to the camp below the summit.

The highs. For me, the biggest high was finding myself with such a fabulous bunch of people, and having the time to talk to all of them over the course of the week. I don’t know if Kilimanjaro attracts a certain type of person but I found them all to be a joy to be with (when they weren’t throwing up).

View from Shira Cathedral

As well as my chum Jonathan, we had Bjorn and Katrine, who adapted well to the conditions and were usually at the front of the group. Their fellow Norwegians, Morton and Hilde had a harder time, mainly due to the effects of some dodgy food eaten before they arrived at the mountain, but they persevered manfully (and womanfully). Then we had the mother and daughter combo of Annika and Julia. Annika introduced the Daily Award for the person who had done something heroic that day. It was a bottle of rum, which was passed around the group until the final night on the mountain (no guesses as to what happened to it then). Julia was very comfortable on the mountain for most of the time, singing away to the music on her headphones. She practically skipped up the mountain, whilst others (like me) where doing the more mundane things like trying to breathe.

Jo and Darren, our fellow Brits, were on their honeymoon. Now there is a honeymoon to remember! Beats our honeymoon in Scarborough – although our bed was probably more comfortable. Allison and Pete and Pete and Ed were introduced in the last blog, so the final namecheck goes to Dave. He was the only sole traveller in our group. I think we all admired the fact that he could undertake such an arduous trip without at least having someone else to provide support. I was also jealous at times of the fact that he was sleeping alone in a two-man tent, but that is another story.

Senecio kilimanjari in the Great Barranco (valley)

The scenery was another big high for the journey. It varied considerably through the week. We started crossing a scrubby plateau, but soon came to an area of sharp peaks and pinnacles. Much of the mountain was scrub or indeed barren, but the Barranco Valley was a verdant exception, with masses of greenery, including the giant Senecio kilimanjari. The final walk to the bottom of the mountain was through topic forest, complimented by birds and various types of monkeys. And as we had good weather for most of our time on the mountain, we had good views of the two peaks of Kilimanjaro – Kibo and Mawenzi. These were stunning, especially in the moonlight or at dawn.

The walking itself was a highlight for me. I love being outdoors, although the day-job for me is generally an indoors one. And I love being active. No beach holidays for us. Generally it wasn’t hard to walk, although in various places it was tougher as we had to scramble up a steeper rock face. The biggest challenge, apart from the final summit ascent, was one such rock face, known as the Barranco Wall. It may not be mountaineering as mountaineers would see it, but the 200m ascent up a steep mass of rock was close enough to the real thing for me, thank you very much!

Not a bad view I suppose

And the final highlight I will pick is just the challenge. The challenge of doing something that was physically hard, and doing it with a group of like-minded people.

So what about the lowlights? I won’t dwell on these, but they have to be mentioned.

The hard part of Kilimanjaro is simply its altitude. The mountain peaks at 5,895m above sea level, and our bodies were simply not designed to operate at this height. At the top, the atmospheric pressure is about 50% of that at sea level. So there is less oxygen. Also the lungs’ ability to extract oxygen deteriorates with altitude, so a double-whammy. And when you are climbing difficult terrain the muscles are working harder, so they need more oxygen – a triple-whammy!

This affects different people in different ways. For myself, the biggest effect through the week was that of headaches. Our guide, Florence, introduced us to the rating scale of 1 – 10, with 1 being a slight headache and 10 being really really bad. He asked us to tell him of headaches, and any other health problems, as his primary job was not to get us to the top of the mountain, but to keep us safe. I had headaches on a number of days, but the worst I got was probably a 4 or 5. This was tackled by paracetamol. Others had more severe headaches, but nothing at the very top of the scale. If they had, and if the headaches persisted then Florence would have ensured that person descended the mountain.

Dawn at Karanga Camp

Other effects were nausea and loss of appetite. Fortunately I was not affected by these symptoms, although quite a number of our party were, at different times. Florence had various medicines for these ailments too. I was affected by insomnia, which was partly the result of altitude and partly as a result of my ‘love’ of sleeping in a tent! This was not helped by the fact that each night the temperature dipped to freezing or below. This meant we awoke to ice on the outside of the tent, and a general reluctance to wash in the bowl of water that had been deposited next to our tent at about 6.45 each morning.

And breathing was hard work at times (for those of us that weren’t skipping up the mountain whilst singing!)

Throughout the week, these were the main things that affected our group. We supported each other well and we all managed to get through the trials and tribulations to Barafu Camp, the one below the summit.

But we only got there through the hard work of walking across the mountain for a week, and in putting up with the hardships. I wouldn’t have been with such a lovely bunch of people for a week if we had not all come together to accomplish the same goal. I wouldn’t have enjoyed the scenery if I hadn’t been prepared to put up with the deprivations of camping on a mountainside. And I wouldn’t have enjoyed the walking, and the challenges, unless I have been prepared to put up with the mild health effects of altitude.

So the lesson – Lesson No.12 – No Guts, No Glory (but try to hang on to your guts).