The morning after

Official time 4:18:16.

I'm very happy with that. The aim was for sub five hour, with my personal aim of being below 4.30 as being pretty spectacular. So yes, I'm happy.

This morning we are hobbling around struggling to get up and down roadside kerbs, having to hold on to lamposts to avoid falling into the road. We just had breakfast to load up on energy, and dinner last night was Pizza and beer in the hotel room - it was all we could do to muster the energy to order pizza.

This morning everyone is full of storys of the marathon, of personal battles with injury, pain and the sheer exertion. Everyone talks about the atmosphere of the marathon, and it was fantastic. Every mile of the run was lined with people cheering us on, with plackards and banners. People called out 'Go Simon', from the name written on my shirt, and it gave such a boost. Strangers supporting us, pushing us on. It was amazing.
Bands played every half mile or so, everything from rock to rap, giving us energy.

We wrapped up warm at the start, in our sleeping bags protecting us from the cold New York air and the brisk northerly wind. We ate bagels, drank water and talked excitedly. Apprehensively.

We milled around at the start, waiting for our time. We were in the third wave of starters - the last to go.
Finally our time came, we were off over thr bridge from Staten Island, a mile of uphil, over the apex and then a mile of down hill. The crowds of runners was amazing, the views of New York spectacular.

The course was hilly, everything I have read about it is true. Hill after hill, running into the wind, cross winds on the bridges. Ohhh the bridges, some of the steepest sections were on the bridges, painful to run up, painful to run down. My knee screaming with pain on the way down the bridges, by thighs wanting to buckle under the strain. The hills themselves were not steep, but they were long and inceasant. Climb then fall, climb then fall. I don't recall a flat section. There were demoralising sections, some very long streets like first avenue, up and up and up, then down and down and down. The crowds kept us going "Go Simon. You're looking good". Feeling terrible.

I was tired at half way, my thighs aching and hamstrings tight. I'd gone off too fast, lured into it by April, I should have stuck to my own plan. The first six miles flew by, 10K reached in no time. The adrenalin pushes you on, you can do it, you can get a great time. David, April and I had stuck together until now, but over the next few miles I lost April and then David. I couldn't tell if David was ahead or behind, but I could see April moving ahead. Maybe just a few paces every 100 metres, but slowly and surely she moved on, I had to run my own pace. The serious business was starting now.

By half way I was aching, I realised I had to drop the pace or risk not finishing. April was out of sight by now. David I hoped was still going with his hamstring injury. "Come on David, you can do it". "Come on Simon, you can do it", I added, this was tough. The next few miles were hard work, long streets, long hills. Drinking water and energy drink at every opportunity. The early morning coolness had gone and the sun was shining on us.

By 18 miles I had a stitch that was threatening to double me up. I had to balance drinking water and making it worse, and dehydrating in the warming day. I sipped water and gatorade alternately, and by mile 22 it became tolerable. My leg was in agony now, too. I had taken 5 paracetomol, and I took another now. Just need to get through this. The uphills were fine, but on corners and kerbs and downhills I had to battle the tendancy for it to either buckle or bend back. Come on leg, just a few miles to go.

21 miles and we were back on Manhatten, the final stretch, just 5.2 miles to go. I plodded down fifth avenue. Just like on the mountains my mind was wanting to sink into the survival zone, the little kernal deep in the mind where completing the task is the only thing that matters, but the crowd wouldn't let that happen. "Come on Simon - nearly there".

22 miles down, 4.2 to go. This was a landmark, this is the distance of the training run round the reservoir at home. "4.2 miles" I said to myself "who can't run 4.2 miles". The end was tangible now, there was no way I wouldn't finish, I could walk it from here.

23 miles, still on fifth avenue. 24 miles, turn off fifth into Central Park. 2.2 miles to go "just a warm up run, anyone can run 2.2 miles, don't give up now". My pace was drifting around all over the place: I'd drop down to 10 minute miles, or even 10.30. My average was heading towards 9.50. Whenever I caught myself, I'd pick up my knees and run, the pain in the thighs searing, but the pain in my knee lessened. Come on.

25 miles, 1.2 to go. The crowds still fantastic "your looking good. Go Simon, nearly there!". So far I'd tried to wave and say thank-you to everyone who called my name, but now I could barely lift my arms. I caught the 9.20 pace runner "just stick with her and we'll be ok, keep pushing". I did, it was painful but I did. I skipped out on the last two water stops, it was a melé, people stopped everywhere, people stumbling for water. Keep clear, keep going. A mile to go: "Here we go, I can definitely do this now" I found a burst of energy from somewhere and stepped up the pace, muscles screaming I stretched out my stride. 800 metres to go, the crowd phenomenal, "GO SIMON". I'm going, I'm going, Every sinew wanting to stop, keep going. 400 metres: "COME ON SIMON YOU CAN DO IT" screamed people in the crowd. 200 yards: I can see the finish. Push push push, trying to go faster, legs barely responding. 100 metres "aaarrgghh. push push push". 50 metres "GO SIMON YOU DID IT" yells someone, FINISH!

I slowed to a walk. My body starts to shuts down, things get wobbly. Deep breaths, focus the eyes. My legs are immediately consumed with lactic acid, they are stiff beyond belief. My knee screams in renewed pain. I don't care. I get someone to take my picture, and I reciprocate. I collect my medal, another photo.

I hobble to the baggage pick up area, where's April? Someone stuffs a foil sheet and a bag of food and drink in my hand, I just want to find April. I push through the crowds on wooden legs, tripping over anything higher than a pebble.
We find each other eventually, we made it!

We exited and made our way back. We tried to get hold of David - he'd made it too! We'd all done it. Good job us.

made it

Unofficial time 4h18

Some of my body parts still work. The ones I can still feel pain in I know are still there. The rest I have no idea.

a massive thanks to everyone who has sponsored and supported us. It means a lot.

Now: To the pub!

start line

On your marks...

Get set...

GO GO GO

on the way to the start

26.2 miles. Really?

Well, we'll find out today one way or another! We woke at around 4.45 am... and 3.30, and 2.45 and 1.30, but thanks to the 5 hour time difference with the UK it doesn't feel too antisocial. Each time I woke to pee, I had a drink too. A never ending cycle, but I'd rather be tired than thirsty.
We gathered our stuff and made some last minute alterations and checks and headed down to the hotel lobby for 6am to meet the rest of the group. We then walked up Manhattan, via an almost deserted Times Square, with the giant electronic billboards shouting out their messages to the streets populated sporadically with marathon runners. Then on to the Park Central hotel to meet the main groups of runners. Now we sit on the coach ready to take us to the start line.

The start is still 3 hours away, people chat nervously or sit in silence. At least it is warm on the coach, compared to the early morning New York dawn. The sky is all but clear, a light haze is all that blocks the sun, that and the 10, 20 or 30 storey buildings that surround us. It will be a couple of hours yet before the sun is high enough to penetrate the narrow slot between the buildings and bring warmth to street level.

We are prepared for this. We are wearing disposable clothes that we can jettison at the start. These are collected to give to the needy. April and I have brought some old sleeping bags too.

So this is it. In eight hours time we'll know what metal we are made of... For me, this is the toughest challenge. Bring it on!

New York New York

Here we are in New York, the night before the marathon.
Last night after arriving we headed out to Tony's to get pasta. The idea being to fill up with as much carbohydrate as possible. Too be honest I was too tired to eat too much, but I at as much as I could and had a couple of beers to wash it all down.

Today we went to the expo, where we registered, got our goody bags and shopped for last minute items. I picked up some gloves because its looking like being cold tomorrow AM. Low 40s F, below 10c, with 10kph wind from the North. Most of the race is running north, so that isn't good! I breakfasted on the free snacks in the goody bags.

We also got a bus down to a sports store for David to look for something for his legs, some compression shorts. We had a free lunch there too, hotdogs and pizza.

After that, back to the hotel. I slept for a couple of hours to catch up from last night's poor effort of sleeping. April prepped her kit.

This evening we headed up to central park to go to the marathon eve party, pictured. Basically free food for marathoners, and beer if you wanted it (I reluctantly abstained, helped by the fact it was Coors light). There were fireworks too, which we missed because we were too busy stuffing our faces with vegetarian pasta. Come to think of it everything I've had today has been vegetarian. I include the hotdogs in that too, because I'm not convinced they ever been anywhere near an animal product.

So today was essentially a trail of free food for me, except for a pack of doritos I picked up on the way to the hotel. I was served by a girl who might have been talking English, but I'm not sure. There was a 10 second satellite delay while I processed what she said, and then had to say 'what?'. To which her general response was to look agitated and point.

Back at the hotel, we re-checked our kit, pinned our numbers to our shirts and sorted all our gear for tomorrow. Its a 5am wake up tomorrow, so there'll be no time or inclination in the morning.

on the plane

So, here we go. We're on the plane having successfully negotiated issues. I had forgotten to take the backup tapes to work, so had to do it on the way this morning, David lost his house keys so we hunted around for them, and incurred another diversion to drop Rachel's keys back with her. At the airport I was told off for leaving my bag unattended, and then I was selected for a 'random' search.
We are here now though.

I'm looking forward to getting there now. Tonight we go out for pasta, tomorrow is registration and the Expo, presumably where we have the opportunity to buy souvenir tat.

last run, probably

Its the Wednesday before the Sunday. The last run before the big run. Five miles tonight crammed in on the treadmill between work and going to visit my parents, at 9 minute mile pace. My legs felt tired, I felt tired, probably due to not doing recovery running yesterday in favour of having a few beers and a couple of vinos with a friend. I don't regret it.

The run might be the last, or I might squeeze a short one in on Friday. I'm not really following a plan as such, more just copying April. She ran, so I ran. She did 9 minute miles, I did 9 minute miles. She ran last night, I went to the pub... Ok, it's not a religion for me.

We got the running vests tonight, as modelled by me in the photo. They look good quality Ron Hill shirts. The flouro shirt is the one we were given, the one below is a base layer I bought at the weekend - its looking like being about 10c at the weekend in New York, so the vest won't be enough.

So, we fly on Friday, get there Friday night. Chill out Saturday and try not to trip over anything and get injured on the way to and from registration. Run on Sunday.

I don't know whether I'm looking forward to it or not. April is, but I'm a bit more sceptical about how much fun it will actually be!

Speaking of injury, David has pulled a hamstring. His physio reckons it is touch and go if he can run. Fingers crossed for him. It won't be the same if he doesn't run, especially after all this training.
Read his blog for more info.

21 Miles - hooorahhhhh

April had managed to get me sufficiently motivated to go running today for a long run. It was the usual April Crazy Plan involving two forms of transport, two separate cities and some vague arrangement to meet somewhere at some indeterminate time and location. Logistics is not one of April's strong points. She has many many talents, but logistics is most definitely not one of them.

The plan, after many hours of debate, ended up as being: I drive April to Fosse Park in Leicester, she starts running down the railway and river to Loughborough. I drive to Loughborough, find somewhere to park, and then run along the canal and the river in the opposite direction and we hopefully meet in the middle, at about 10 miles, and then run back to the car.

I made some copies of the relevant copies of the Ordnance Survey map of the area, as I could see this going wrong already!

I duly dropped her off, drove to Loughborough, went to Tesco and picked up some energy drinks and filled my backpack (April had stolen my camelback) and headed off.

The route started for about two miles on path, then onto canal bank. Both nice and flat. Then I followed the river and the terrain turned into uneven river bank, churned up by cows and made boggy by the overnight rain. The going was heavy, my legs were tiring quickly, but I pushed on. IPod in my ears, listening to podcasts. April and I eventually met via use of mobile phone's and maps. The task of meeting was made difficult by the fact the canal and river was closed for certain stretches. April had taken to the road, and I'd taken to cross-country.
A quick drink and a chat, and we headed back. We got back to Loughborough by retracing my route, which I'd slightly extended to try and get to 20 miles. When I got to twenty miles, I decided that I wanted to do just one more mile. My legs were heavy from the distance and the terrain, but I pushed myself to do it. This is what the marathon will feel like at the end, exhausted but needing to push on. I wanted to teach my body what it feels like, so its not scared when it happens. I got one more mile in at a slow slow pace. Its a shame it takes 4 hours of running to get to this stage, I want to be able to do the endurance bit without the 20 miles before it!
April did 23 miles.

I felt happy with this. For the first time I'd cracked 20 miles. Although exhausted I felt much happier, and raised out of my depression of the last few days. I actually feel like I can finish the marathon now. For the first time I genuinely believe it.

Wheels fallen off

Today the wheels well and truly fell off. They've been wobbly for a while now, but they finally dropped off today, and rolled away down the hill.

This challenge, the NY Marathon, has been different to the other two. For me the challenge in the other two didn't really start until we landed in the relevant country and we could divert our full attention to it. The going didn't really get tough until we were on the mountains. Sure, there was lots of training, but not excessive. I could still run a normal life pretty much. Plus the evenings were light longer, so they felt roomy, plenty of time for being out and about walking or running.
For the marathon its all a bit different. Training is now five, sometimes six days a week.The nights are getting dark by the time we get home, so I'm trying to get home as quickly as possible after work, change and get out so I can run in twighlight before it gets dark. There is only one street through the village, constituting half a mile (if you run it in both directions), after dark training is non existent.
After running, I get showered and changed. We'll then spend an hour making dinner, eating dinner. Next thing you know its 10.30pm. Next day repeat. Work, run, eat, bed.
Five miles recovery run on Monday, Tuesday 7 or 8, Wednesday 6 fast miles, Thursday 10, Friday slow 5 miles, Saturday 15 miles. I dunno, I'm making it up - but this is the sort of program.

I feel like all the challenge for this challenge is in the training. Hopefully the marathon day, although very tough, will be just a formality of running for 26 miles. The challenge for me at the moment is holding some semblance of a life together while doing all of this training.
I think if it had just been the marathon, or just been the other challenges I could have held it together. But taking such an extended period out of one's social life is difficult for me, putting home life into stasis. We moved into this house in June and, other than a brief flurry in August aided greatly by my parents, we've done nothing to it. There are still large piles of unopened boxes lying around reminding me to get my act together and sort it out.
I'm also sick of being constantly tired, every day waking up with stiff legs and ankles, taking me twenty paces before I stop walking like a rigid legged robot. My one or two rest days a week spent recovering rather than doing anything useful.
On top of all the stuff above, and all of the other issues with the training, the other thing that is getting me down is my knee. I am now tired of being in constant pain.

All of this culminated into making me exceedingly grumpy yesterday and today, and a little temper-tantrum if I'm honest. Thankfully my amazing wife managed to once again drag me out of the depths of despair and get me back on my feet, literally. By dragging me back out on the road again.

Leicester Half Marathon

April and I did the Leicester Half Marathon today, and both posted good times of 1h55

I was aiming for 2h15, so to come in at under two hours is good for me, and I'm really happy. We started off trying to keep a 9 minute mile pace, to be reasonably representative of what we might do in the real marathon (except that I'll be doing 9.30 in the real thing probably). After about 10 miles we started speeding up and by the time we got to 11.5 miles, with just over a mile and a half to go, we really stepped up the pace and ended up with a sprint finish between April and me.
I narrowly won, but only by virtue of the fact I snook up on her and I've got longer legs.


The marathon was great practice for me, in terms of understanding what it will be like on the day.


For a start, we arrived about 90 minutes before the race, so there was a lot of standing around in the cold. Its going to be even colder in NY, and a lot of people advise taking throwaway fleeces to keep warm at the start line.


Once the race was underway, it is difficult for the first couple of miles to keep any sort of sensible pace. Walking for a start, then as people spread out and speed up you are constantly tripping over people's feet, and trying to pick a clear line through people. For the first mile we only managed about 12.30 minutes per mile. This thins out over the next couple of miles, though and you can settle on a pace.


The other key thing was that in the city centre, and when running through the woodland areas, the Garmin GPS sometimes had issues with getting GPS signal. This meant that the pace reading was a bit all over the place sometimes. Mostly however, the GPS is a great aid to keeping the right pace.


All in all, it was a good test, and I'll begrudgingly admit that I enjoyed it...but don't tell anyone.


Its exactly a month to the day to the New York Marathon. Scary times. I need to get a couple of long runs in over the next two weeks (20+milers) and then start to taper. The tapering sounds good, the 20+ mile runs do not.

April at about half-way

Many thanks to my parents for coming along to support us. It was great to see them at the finish line and half way through.

Knee Research

I've been doing a bit of research into this damn confounded knee to see if there is anything I can do about it.
The closest injury I can find that matches my symptoms is Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome.

http://www.physioroom.com/injuries/knee/patellofemoral_maltracking_full.php

Although it is comforting to have a name for the pain, it doesn't really help me with what to do to treat it. The suggestion of a knee brace I have already tried, maybe if I buy a better quality one I will have better luck. I'm willing to try anything at this stage.

I think I will also put more time into warming up the upper leg muscles and glutes to see if this makes a difference.

Last Week's Progress

Marathon training is in full swing now, with just five weeks to go.
I am seriously concerned about my ability to run the marathon, but more on that later.

On Saturday I managed 12.5 miles.This sounds ok, but I should be running 20 miles by now (April ran 21 miles on Saturday).

This week was a bit low key because I was still recovering from Kilimanjaro (or at least my knee was) and I haven't been feeling particularly well.
The fitness side of things I'm not too bothered about. I felt like I could have easily managed another 3+ miles after the 12.5 miles (and indeed we played 18 holes of golf after running), but my knee is causing me serious issues at present.
On Saturday my knee was giving me some pain from the start up to 3.5 miles. I stopped at a junction and the knee gave way and I slowly crumpled to a yelping heap on the side of the road. I got up and continued running, and after a while the pain gave way to a manageable numbness either from the painkillers I had taken earlier or due to pain override. Either way the pain didn't get significantly worse for the remaining 9 miles.
This leads me to the thought that I may be able to just run through the knee pain if I am stacked up on pain killers, but realistically could I have managed another 13.5 miles at that pain level? No I don't think so.
The other issue is that I end up over compensating with my right leg for the lack of mobility in my left leg which ends up making my right leg tire earlier.

This week I have so far run:
Monday: 4 miles, slow pace recovery run. Knee pain level 6/10
Tuesday: 5 miles fast paced. Knee pain level 7/10

This is worrying to me, especially on Tuesday as my knee was in pain from the start. In an attempt to reduce the pain level I have taken a rest day today and plan to to do another 5 miles tomorrow. Friday or Saturday I am planning on doing a longer run. I hope to cover at least 15 miles.

Back to the Marathon training

With Kilimanjaro already a fading memory it is with some reluctance that I have had to turn my attention back too the marathon. The two challenges that I was really interested in have been completed successfully and now I have to focus on the one I am really really not looking forward to.

Prior to Kilimanjaro I had managed to run 15 miles as the longest distance. After 12 miles my left knee was in such severe agony that I had to virtually limp the last few miles at a slow jog, barely faster than a fast walk.
I was hoping that a few days off before going to Africa and then no running for a week in Africa would give my knee chance to settle down. However, I went out running on Wednesday with April and did a fast 3.5 miles, after which my knee was pretty painful.
I didn't run on Thursday due to the monsoon and lightning that seemed to have descended on Thornton, with cloud formations, colours and light that seemed quite apocalyptic. After the rain, and then the hail, we saw a frog making a run for it across the garden. I wondered if it was a scaled down end-of-the-world plague, or it was too wet even for frogs.

Friday, I ran 4 miles, at a fast pace. Again, my knee hurt after 3 miles, but I pushed through to 4.

Today, Saturday, April is doing a 21 mile run. I'm joining her for the second half ten miles. A slower pace so hopefully less knee anguish. Its 7am and April has already gone.

With a month to go, I'm extremely concerned about my knee. The referral by my GP to a specialist hasn't materialised so I think I will try and book some time with a physio or at a sports injury clinic.

There is no bruising or swelling or any external signs. It just feels like someone is pulling my kneecap off, putting my knee in a vice or hammering rusty nails into my knee, depending on how far I push it.

Porter

David decides to apply for a Porter's job. Unfortunately he's still there pinned down. I'll rescue him soon.

The ethics of tourist tat

Am I supporting the local economy or encouraging underpaid labour by buying tourist trinkets? I decided it was the latter, so sorry April, no present.

We went to a local market in Arusha to kill some time and for David to buy a fridge magnet. The first shop we went in had largely the same products as the hotel shop. The prices were cheaper, but it looked the same.
The next stall we went in had basically the same stuff. So did the next, and the next. The pressure to buy from the stall holders was intense, guaranteeing to beat the price of the other stall holders. We wandered between the stalls in the oppressive, dry midday heat. Stepping into the small, shed sized booths, crammed with wooden animals, pot containers, leather this, metal that. If you can think of it and it was something to do with Africa, they had it. But every stall had the same. If it had been unique, hand crafted by the artisan stall holder, then I'd have considered buying.

There were rows of tiny alleys with dozens of stalls, each with a vendor trying to lure you in and trap you. Venture down one of these alleys and you may never return. Luckily their attention was diverted from us when some American tourists turned up. 'look at this, it's amazing, it's so beautiful' one naive woman proclaimed loudly. Lambs to the slaughter.

I looked at a stall selling paintings, I liked them. I nearly bought one. Two stalls down they had the exact same painting. No uniqueness there, no-one's time, effort and passion.

So what are you buying? I imagined a room, a sweat shop, full of kids and women, making trinkets as fast as possible. Working long hours in desperate conditions for a few Tanzanian shillings a piece. This put me off. It may not be accurate but its the vision I had.

The items looked good on the surface, but delve below this and it's not quite right. Not finished properly, not good quality materials. I looked at a little heart shaped pot, quite nice and pretty. I picked it up and checked it out, the felt liner was not quite cut right. I checked another. This time the green felt liner wasn't quite glued in.
I checked the other dozen or so, each one defective in some way. Would I want this in my house? No. Would I want to receive this as a present? No. Consequently I couldn't give it as a present.

And this to me is Tanzania all over. A lot of things look good on the surface, they look real. But look below the surface and they aren't. People wear suits walking down the street, going to work or church. But look closely and the suit is over a vest or tatty shirt.
Take this hotel, it looks nice and up market. From the outside it looks like just the kind of place you'd want to stay to relax after climbing a mountain. Unfortunately the food is poor, mediocre at best. The service is poor, and all about the tips. The room looks nice, but the shower is heath-robinson, the sockets not properly attached to the wall, the windows don't shut and so on.

Events appear to be well organised. But scratch the surface and you'll find a dozen people running around like headless chickens barely holding it together.
Efficiency is not an appropriate word here.

accountant's logic

We went to the hotel souvenir shop, but left before we got ripped off. Things were very pricey, compared to the price of things on the street. I think the breaking point was when she wanted to charge us 22 dollars for two fridge magnets. It wouldn't be so bad, but you know the person who made them got less than 50 cents.

So now we are paying 20 dollars for a taxi into town so we can find some slightly cheaper ones...

Death by Dangerous Driving

The journey from Marangu gate to the hotel was interesting, in a very scary way. There don't appear to be any traffic laws in Tanzania, other than 'overtake whatever, whenever' at one point we were stuck behind a petrol tanker, going up a hill, the truck front of us got bored and pulled out and crawled past the tanker. The motorcyclist coming the other way didn't seem to find escaping with his life by about six feet too concerning.

At another point we were behind a truck. A Toyota Landcruiser was overtaking on the right, a bike was overtaking the Landcruiser. A bus was overtaking the truck on the left, on the verge. Four vehicles wide on a single carriageway road. A 4x4 started to overtake us. We are going to die, I was sure.

Luckily we didn't.

Last day on the Mountain

Yesterday was the simple job of six hours of hiking down from Horombo to the Marangu Gate park exit.
Six hours walking. Just what my legs needed after yesterday, my knee was not going to enjoy it one bit.

But before that we had breakfast (porridge, toast, sausage, egg) where we had to discuss the Tipping Ceremony. At the start of the trip, in the previous hotel, we'd been given a sheet that gave amounts to tip the various 39 porters, in a sliding scale according to their seniority. We were told to nominate an accountant who would collect the money and do a speech.
This nomination was carried out by everyone disappearing and leaving the sheet of paper on the table. David was last man standing, and was duly nominated. He tried to get out of it for the rest of the week, but there were no takers.

The tipping is 'optional'. Optional in the same way that breathing is optional. The fact that we were given explicit instructions by the Chief Guide, Charles, and a sheet explaining what to do and how much to give, and (here's the clincher) that there is a tipping ceremony all indicated it was not at all optional.

We ribbed David for a few hours over dinner and breakfast on his role, and his speech he had to give, carrying on until the joke became thin. Then ribbed him some more.
We gave David our tip money, 100USD each, and washed our hands of the process. Only Anna felt any sympathy and helped him count the money. From now on we were spectators.

The tipping ceremony consisted of all of the porters singing us a Kilimanjaro song, of which the only recognisable words were Kilimanjaro and Akunamatata, and then standing there while we doled out the tips. Out of the 39 porters that were allegedly helping us, we had only ever seen about half that many. At the tipping ceremony, we saw about 24. Something fishy...?
David duly gave his speech, and handed out the tips, which seemed to be gratefully received. An ordinary porter gets about 60 USD for the week's work, so a 25 dollar tip on top is significant. I gave our guides that took us up the mountain an extra 10 dollars each, so did Ed and David. And two spare dollars went to the lady who had carried both our bags. She seemed happy.

Trivial amounts of money to me, significant to them. Disturbing, really.

The tipping ceremony over, we had a group photo. A porter from a different camp was dragged over to take the photos, and suddenly a dozen cameras were planted on him. The porters sang the Kilimanjaro song again, during the whole of which the befuddled porter didn't even manage to take one picture. I think he was just wowed by the fact that he could see all his friends on a little screen, mesmerized with an inane grin on his face. Head Guide Charles soon tired off this and grabbed the cameras and rattled the photos off.
All done. Lets Go. Twende twende. Said Charles.

Off we went. Climbing at first, then descending. My knee hurt a lot, I tried not to complain: Russell was far worse off than me. We trudged our way through yet more dust. Sick of it by now. We tried to stick with Russ, but eventually the guides made us leave him. One of the guides stayed with Russ.

Ed, david and I marched on to catch the group. We caught them at the rest stop. We didn't get a rest, the group moved on as we arrived. Three hours we walked until lunch, through some spectacular scenery.

We ate lunch at Mandara, 2700 metres. Mandara is like a small village, Swiss Chalets, with dining rooms and bunks. Running water and real flushing toilets. Luxury. This is how the other half trek Kilimanjaro: clean, showered, well fed and well rested. But I liked our camping.

By this time we'd lost Johnny and Tobey. No surprise there, they were always in between. Not at the front, or the back. Just there, or not. Presumably off chasing a Honey Badger, or whatever it was they had been looking for all week. Good guys, I like them. They didn't turn up, so Said headed down the mountain at a pace and we headed down with Nelson. I walked with Karren for a while, and she gave me some good advice for my knees.
Eventually I was in sufficient pain I just wanted to get down the mountain. I marched off at the front, clattering my way down with my poles. I chased Nelson down, looking following his big yellow rucksack, imagining it was a giant Banana Beer.

We made it down, and signed out of the national park. And then Heaven, the crappy little gift shop sold beer. I had one, then another. And another. At 2 dollars each why not.

Russell's arrived in his Taxi, a Landrover from half way down. He looked knackered, but smiling. He hugged David, and headed for a beer.

We found Tobey and Johnny. They'd taken a shortcut! Where was that?!
Tobey played with giant ants that had hitched a ride down on his boots.
He tried to make them fight, they didn't seem keen.

We found Armando and Carmen. Somehow they had commandeered a ride down. Money talks.

We laid around for half an hour or so, resting weary legs. We received our certificates, which were promptly taken away. People loitered around, eyeing up our gear. Yet again we were having to keep an eye on our kit. I hate the dark side of Tanzania. You can't trust anyone here - everyone is smiles and politeness on the surface, but always ready to rip you off as soon as you look the other way.

The gift show was a joke. There were things in there that were many years old, or completely irrelevant to Kilimanjaro. Great if you wanted to know what the world records were a few years ago, or wanted to learn French in 21 days, but not if you wanted some actual souvenirs. I bought a map.
They don't really have the tourism trade nailed here.

Jelly Baby Success on Africa's Highest Mountain

Please join me in congratulating these Jelly Babies in scaling Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest mountain. Four Jelly Babies made it: Baby Vistas, Baby Hillary, Baby Bonnington and Sherpa Baby Tensing. There was one casualty unfortunately, Baby Mallory was squished during the ascent. His body will be donated to the greater good of my stomach.

I'm sure you'll agree it was a fantastic achievement.

proof of summit

Ok, my name is spelled wrong. But it is me, honest.