So the visit to the Quack passed without too much hassle. At the time of writing Yellow Fever was not necessary (although this changes frequently so check), so I got away with just Typhoid and Hep A. I am already covered for Tetanus, thanks to being bitten by a (thankfully non-rabid) dog at the South Africa World Cup. Talking of which, Rabies jabs probably a good idea for Tanzania, especially if close encounters with animals or bats expected, but we've left it too late to finish the course before we go, so will just need to be careful. I for one have definitely learned my lesson about petting African animals and won't be doing that again. Gift - the African nurse who administered the jabbing, wearily lifted her eyes upwards and did all she could to avoid tutting when I told her about how I got bitten by a pub dog in Port Elizabeth as I tried to tickle it through an iron gate. "You might let them sleep in your beds over here" she said "But back home dogs are for hunting and protection - we leave them well alone." Good advice, Gift. I just wish we'd had this conversation a year ago!
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Welcome Back Mr and Mrs Aged H!
And what a tremendous effort for a great title...from "From South Wales to New South Wales"...that's what I call blog dedication.
The group is coming together nicely. The Aged H's are back and look to be fully prepared. JG's face by now should have got back to the shade it was before it turned that funny pink colour in the Brecons, Punky is training full on (no shocks there, the guy is a machine), and JK is over his sprained ankle, and holidayed. Mrs Backspin and I are off to the French Alps this weekend for a bit of up and down mountains and the group are having a final sit down next Thursday night to avoid the inevitable "I thought you'd brought the......", oh and a few beers.
Kilimanjaro is now looming large.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
From South Wales to New South Wales - the mountain looms
Suddenly we're into the final few weeks and all is looking real. Very real indeed. We're talking 3D, HD, 1080i, better-than-the-movies Widescreen real. And as doubts about fitness levels start to creep in, Mr and Mrs Backspin (the nicest couple in England), Mr and Mrs G (the nicest couple in Wales) and the Ageing Hipster and Gooner D (the nicest couple in North London, although given the recent rioting a mile up the road from us this isn't difficult) - all decide to have a training weekend in the Brecons.
The training gets off to a flying start courtesy of Great Western Railways, who make the Backspins stand for the entire two and a half hour journey from Paddington to Newport. Fate stepped in to give them this extra workout, as they had seat reservations but were unable to gain access to their carriage. Running trains is obviously much harder than we think, after all they've been trying to get it right for more than a century and they still can't quite manage to get the train out of the station AND the people into the seats they've paid for. Still, if we had to settle for one out of the two, at least they managed to get the iron horse to run along the steel roadway and stop at the places it was meant to. Hooray for British industry!
Having survived (although Mrs B bottled it and sat on the carriage floor from Slough), we were picked up by JG and driven at high speed to the waiting pub for a decent meal and some well deserved booze. Might as well start as we mean to go on.
After a good night sleep, and a huge breakfast, we hit the hills for a brisk 2.5 hour trek, which had a higher climb than any of the planned days on Kilimanjaro. Thankfully all knees and ankles survived so well we did an even harder trek the next day. This time, despite the fact that our host's village was always in sight, so we'd always know where we were, we managed to get lost on the way down. But never mind, our trek team on Kilimanjaro will be responsible for maps and compasses, leaving us free to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. No major accidents here, except a couple of nettle stings, some blistered toes and heels, and some bruised pride as JG took an unexpected dip in a stream. Could have been worse.
The weary travellers returned to London feeling pretty confident in everyone else's ability to make the trek, with just a few nagging doubts about ourselves.
Not being the sort to let the grass grow under our feet, The Ageing Hipster and Gooner D flew to Australia the next day to visit friends and do more trekking in the North Queensland Rainforest. Specifically the Mount Sorrow Ridgewalk in Cape Tribulation. So called because, having smashed his ship to firewood on the Great Barrier Reef here, Captain Cook sent two scouts up the ridge to see what was what. They were never seen again. You'd like to think they stumbled upon a natural paradise and decided to set up home together growing exotic fruit, but historians suspect the worse.
Sorrow and Tribulation indeed, and perhaps Pain and Stupidity could also be added into the mix. It's a 7 hour trek (3.5 there and 3.5 back) that goes from very steep to even steeper, to practically vertical, through dense, unforgiving rainforest. For large parts we were on all-fours pulling ourselves up using trees, roots and vines. Having hauled ourselves through this assault course we finally reach the small viewing platform, only to be joined a minute later by a local lad who had run up in 59 minutes. The bastard! And as that sank in, so did the realisation that we had get our weary legs into action and get down before the light went.
Anyone who has climbed a tree will know that going down can take as much time as coming up, and so it was. We had to retrace our steps, every single one of them, very very carefully, until, laughing in the face of Tribulation and Sorrow (possibly through joy but probably through some form of mild delerium), we made it back to the road, and even declined a lift to our campsite. Take that Mt. Sorrow!
Confident that Kilimanjaro won't throw anything like that at us, and keeping fingers crossed that we avoid yellow fever and altitude sickness, we give a cautious "Bring it on".
Next stop - the Doctors.
Having survived (although Mrs B bottled it and sat on the carriage floor from Slough), we were picked up by JG and driven at high speed to the waiting pub for a decent meal and some well deserved booze. Might as well start as we mean to go on.
After a good night sleep, and a huge breakfast, we hit the hills for a brisk 2.5 hour trek, which had a higher climb than any of the planned days on Kilimanjaro. Thankfully all knees and ankles survived so well we did an even harder trek the next day. This time, despite the fact that our host's village was always in sight, so we'd always know where we were, we managed to get lost on the way down. But never mind, our trek team on Kilimanjaro will be responsible for maps and compasses, leaving us free to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. No major accidents here, except a couple of nettle stings, some blistered toes and heels, and some bruised pride as JG took an unexpected dip in a stream. Could have been worse.
The weary travellers returned to London feeling pretty confident in everyone else's ability to make the trek, with just a few nagging doubts about ourselves.
Not being the sort to let the grass grow under our feet, The Ageing Hipster and Gooner D flew to Australia the next day to visit friends and do more trekking in the North Queensland Rainforest. Specifically the Mount Sorrow Ridgewalk in Cape Tribulation. So called because, having smashed his ship to firewood on the Great Barrier Reef here, Captain Cook sent two scouts up the ridge to see what was what. They were never seen again. You'd like to think they stumbled upon a natural paradise and decided to set up home together growing exotic fruit, but historians suspect the worse.
Sorrow and Tribulation indeed, and perhaps Pain and Stupidity could also be added into the mix. It's a 7 hour trek (3.5 there and 3.5 back) that goes from very steep to even steeper, to practically vertical, through dense, unforgiving rainforest. For large parts we were on all-fours pulling ourselves up using trees, roots and vines. Having hauled ourselves through this assault course we finally reach the small viewing platform, only to be joined a minute later by a local lad who had run up in 59 minutes. The bastard! And as that sank in, so did the realisation that we had get our weary legs into action and get down before the light went.
Anyone who has climbed a tree will know that going down can take as much time as coming up, and so it was. We had to retrace our steps, every single one of them, very very carefully, until, laughing in the face of Tribulation and Sorrow (possibly through joy but probably through some form of mild delerium), we made it back to the road, and even declined a lift to our campsite. Take that Mt. Sorrow!
Confident that Kilimanjaro won't throw anything like that at us, and keeping fingers crossed that we avoid yellow fever and altitude sickness, we give a cautious "Bring it on".
Next stop - the Doctors.
Friday, 3 June 2011
To Hire or not To Hire
Thinking about survival at -32 degrees really focuses the mind. The big stuff's obvious - ski-wear ain't gonna cut it, so we definitely need to get our hands on some down filled mountaineering jacket. The Africa Walking Company hire Anapurna Jackets by Mountain Equipment, which are generally considered the dog's doo-dahs, and we're happy with that.
The boys all agree that it's best to hire one first time round and buy one if we get bitten by the mountaineering bug (although bearing in mind the jacket is filled with natural fibres and would have previously adorned umpteen sweaty, unwashed and generally "mountain filthy" bodies, I'd be amazed if it's the only bug we get be bitten by).
JK might buy his own, so he can put it on every now and then in the future to remind himself of the trek. Nice touch, and it would definitely help out with the heating bills.
Gooner D, rightfully concerned that the only sizes available for hire (M, L and XL mens) would swamp her, decides to buy herself the women's version - the Cho Oyo jacket. This turns out to be much more difficult that anticipated, with only two available on the world wide web during the Springtime - but she will never freeze at the Arsenal again.
Would-be travellers be warned, it's much easier to get this stuff in winter, so planning ahead is a good idea.
The not-so-obvious things that we also decide to hire are: 4-season sleeping bags (so we can sleep easy, knowing our tits and knackers will still be attached when we wake up), a foam mattress (so we can get some sleep in the first place - much more comfy than just the half-inch insulating mat), and walking poles.
I wasn't sure about walking poles, but JG has severe knee-knack, mine are a bit dodgy, JK wants all the help he can get, and Cousin Ken, who has spent the last 40 years skipping up mountains on the Isle of Skye looking at Eagles, can't recommend them highly enough. Apparently you need one for on the way up, two for on the way down.
Your knees and ankles will spend the rest of your life thanking you, but be warned, most people get so focused on where to place the poles, they forget to stop and admire the scenery. Good tip!
The boys all agree that it's best to hire one first time round and buy one if we get bitten by the mountaineering bug (although bearing in mind the jacket is filled with natural fibres and would have previously adorned umpteen sweaty, unwashed and generally "mountain filthy" bodies, I'd be amazed if it's the only bug we get be bitten by).
JK might buy his own, so he can put it on every now and then in the future to remind himself of the trek. Nice touch, and it would definitely help out with the heating bills.
Gooner D, rightfully concerned that the only sizes available for hire (M, L and XL mens) would swamp her, decides to buy herself the women's version - the Cho Oyo jacket. This turns out to be much more difficult that anticipated, with only two available on the world wide web during the Springtime - but she will never freeze at the Arsenal again.
Would-be travellers be warned, it's much easier to get this stuff in winter, so planning ahead is a good idea.
The not-so-obvious things that we also decide to hire are: 4-season sleeping bags (so we can sleep easy, knowing our tits and knackers will still be attached when we wake up), a foam mattress (so we can get some sleep in the first place - much more comfy than just the half-inch insulating mat), and walking poles.
I wasn't sure about walking poles, but JG has severe knee-knack, mine are a bit dodgy, JK wants all the help he can get, and Cousin Ken, who has spent the last 40 years skipping up mountains on the Isle of Skye looking at Eagles, can't recommend them highly enough. Apparently you need one for on the way up, two for on the way down.
Your knees and ankles will spend the rest of your life thanking you, but be warned, most people get so focused on where to place the poles, they forget to stop and admire the scenery. Good tip!
Monday, 16 May 2011
OUTSTANDING lunch to celebrate JG's 50th birthday at the Savoy Grill. Food, wine, cooking, FUN. Somewhat alarmingly there doesn't seem to be much going on training-wise for Kilimanjaro. JG has purchased a rowing machine but has only done a total of 8k so far (plus some hill walks). He has also developed a hacking cough. JK is thinking about starting his training "soon", but he is a naturally fit guy (and I think he's been at it really - he looked as if he'd lost weight). The Aged H looks in good nick (better now than 10 years ago IMHO) and I have no doubt that Mrs Aged will be in fine fettle cometh the day....
Monday, 9 May 2011
Backspin
Backspin here - I've been enjoying the Aged H's blog for some time now so I asked if I could have a go. After a couple of technical hitches (I don't exactly do "tech"), here we are...
I've been well up for Kili since the idea was first mooted at JK's 50th. So much so that as Aged H said, I got a mountain bike at Christmas, and a book on Kilimanjaro. To have something epic to do this year really took my fancy and although out of all of us I probably had least to do fitness wise I am cycling, running and rowing regularly, and have been for 4 months now. In fact I'm miles away! I feel full of life. Unfortunately I haven't found any mountains yet (Hertfordshire is somewhat lacking), and everybody tells me its not fitness but the altitude that'll make or break us, but nuts to that - JG is promising to take us for a weekend in the Brecon Beacons, they are quite high and it's nice being 50 with a bit of energy in any event, success or fail!
I have to say Aged and Mrs Aged (who is lovely) have organised us brilliantly thus far. JK gave us a few palpitations but finally decided he was coming and JG has bought himself a rowing machine (it's his 50th on Friday so we'll get to see first hand whether he's taken it out of the box). Punky is a tentative "yes" - his Dad died earlier in the year and it's been difficult for him to commit. We all hope he does though - this is going to be TOUGH and we'll need all the support we can get, from mates we've known for 40 years now...
Monday, 2 May 2011
Cometh the Half Century, Cometh the Climbing Prezzie
So the Ageing Hipster's 50th came, and with it a bunch of Kili related prezzies. What a great idea to plan an adventure that needs equipment as you approach this particular milestone. Everyone wants to get you something, and you have a ready made wish list. So much better than socks and a cardie - although a pair of socks did make it into the swag bag. But not any old pair, oh no - proper moutaineering ones, engineered New Zealand. Along with a bag of all day breakfast specially formulated for high altitude.
"Thanks for the socks and de-hydrated food" I say to Miss SD
"You're welcome, you bastard" comes the reply.
My favourite niece and her kids weighed in with a Camelpack - a 3.5 litre bag that holds your water and straps onto the back of the daypack. And it's got an insulated straw so the water doesn't freeze. Nice one guys!
The large but lightweight box from brother and nephew in Honk Kong (that tantalisingly arrived a week early) was torn apart on the big day to reveal a most excellent rucksack - complete with compass. And, magically the Camelpack fits it perfectly. Couldn't have worked out better if they'd tried.
Gooner D spoiled me rotten - and amongst the booty was a strap-on-the-head lamp thing. Perfect for the final ascent, which is due to start at midnight (unless we miraculously all get super-fit, in which case it starts at half past midnight).
And this particular headlamp is brilliant. It has a filter, so you can have focused or wide beam, three energy settings (called high, medium and low by the manufacturers, disproving the notion that Germans lack imagination), and an option for it to flash SOS - bloody marvelous, but let's hope we don't need that.
And last, but by no means least, a Times Concise Atlas of the World from the Backspins. This particular edition has a small mark in the middle of Tanzania on the flyleaf. Four months to go and this is getting very exciting.
"Thanks for the socks and de-hydrated food" I say to Miss SD
"You're welcome, you bastard" comes the reply.
My favourite niece and her kids weighed in with a Camelpack - a 3.5 litre bag that holds your water and straps onto the back of the daypack. And it's got an insulated straw so the water doesn't freeze. Nice one guys!
The large but lightweight box from brother and nephew in Honk Kong (that tantalisingly arrived a week early) was torn apart on the big day to reveal a most excellent rucksack - complete with compass. And, magically the Camelpack fits it perfectly. Couldn't have worked out better if they'd tried.
Gooner D spoiled me rotten - and amongst the booty was a strap-on-the-head lamp thing. Perfect for the final ascent, which is due to start at midnight (unless we miraculously all get super-fit, in which case it starts at half past midnight).
And this particular headlamp is brilliant. It has a filter, so you can have focused or wide beam, three energy settings (called high, medium and low by the manufacturers, disproving the notion that Germans lack imagination), and an option for it to flash SOS - bloody marvelous, but let's hope we don't need that.
And last, but by no means least, a Times Concise Atlas of the World from the Backspins. This particular edition has a small mark in the middle of Tanzania on the flyleaf. Four months to go and this is getting very exciting.
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