The only ethics usually associated with the world of high finance is that county to the north-east of London that thupplies the thtock exchange with barrow-boy traders. And the marketing industry is no better, often displaying morals that are as loose as Jordan's knicker elastic. But therein lies the difference between corporate-self and mountain climbing-self. So while JK's predatory instinct in business would make a Great White Shark blush, and The Ageing Hipster's younger exploits would've made even Berlusconi think twice, when we scramble up the Uhuru peak we want to do so with a clear conscience.
So choosing an ethical tour operator is a priority. One that treats its people fairly, pays a decent wage and makes reasonable demands on porter and client alike.
Africa is different, there's no denying this, so expecting European standards is a mistake. But Kilimanjaro is a major industry, and Tanzania isn't exactly backwards, so there's no need to settle for anything less than professional standards of care, a well-resourced and well-manned party and decent quality equipment. After all we are attempting the highest peak in Africa - this is a serious exercise.
IMEC, an international body dedicated to improving conditions for mountain-tourism workers, has set guidelines regarding the number of guides and porters per person, and the maximum weight they should carry. They also run a special project to improve conditions for porters and guides in Africa and Nepal. I decide to get all Health and Safety on this, and make sure our Tour Operator is IMEC approved and that our party exceeds the guidelines.
It seems that getting an official Kilimanjaro Tour Guide's licence is easier than getting a Harvard degree from China - so a licenced operator does not mean a good one. You could be trusting life and limb to a bandit with as much regard for your life as the US Government has for your human rights.
So going into it with eyes open, and after much research, The African Walking Company is my preferred operator. They are well established, claim a high success rate, subscribe to IMEC, are very frank about the challenges and are totally flexible on routes and dates. They have three-man tents, but only put two people in them, and they set up a mess tent with proper chairs and a table for breakfast, supper and the evening chill out. We had this on the Inca Trail and it was a right touch.
More importantly, they have excellent feedback on Trip Advisor, and are recommended in Bobby Backspin's How To Climb Kilimanjaro Without Farting book. So far so good.
I also like the fact they directly employ all of the porters and guides, drawing people from different local tribes into each tour. This feels like our money will help a wider economy, and we'll get a richer experience of Tanzanian culture. It also guards against any single person effectively being guide, leader and paymaster to a bunch of his mates.
Punky's MOT is due on Jan 27th - assuming this goes well, we have a date, we have a party, we have a tour guide.
As Captain James T Kirk might say to an orgasmic Trekkie convention, we're going up Uhuru!
Wednesday, 19 January 2011
Friday, 7 January 2011
Happy New Year
"Happy New Year" says text from Bobby Backspin. "Got Kili book from Santa, just acquired a mountain bike and started on step machine" Christ, he didn't waste any time! "Suggest we have conference call next week ... agenda to follow"
A conference call - now we're in business. Getting the boys together usually involves several hundred texts, a shed load of compromises and a large dollop of luck, all over a 6 week timeline. But we value the time together - so much so that it was only after suffering several years of curry nights that JG, JK and Bobby all admitted they don't actually like curry - so it's been Bangers n Mash since then (or in Bobby's case fish finger sandwiches. Marvelous. If only the S+M Cafe still did Ambrosia Cream Rice, I'd happily spend the rest of my life there).
Agenda duly arrives - 1) Punky's MOT. 2) Confirming commitment. 3) Agreeing date. 4) Route - tents v huts. 5) Kit. 6) Agree training weekend in Wales. 7) AOB. This is uber efficiency at its German best - I feel like I'm entering the jet set and wonder if I should dig the Cerrutti suit out especially for the occasion!
Predictably me and Bobby Backspin hit the call first. Punky and JK are fashionably late, followed by JG, who is so fashionably late it's virtually haute couture.
Punky's in for his MOT at the end of January, and he's already in training to make sure that he passes! Good lad. Fingers crossed.
Ideally we'd time the trip to reach the summit on Sept 12th, which is a full moon (the final ascent starts at midnight, climbing with torches strapped to head not as romantic). Sadly Punky has a global corporate wank-in that week, and Gooner D starts college after that, so we decide on the first week in September, as near to the full moon as we can.
Bobby Backspin confirms Crispy Backspin's not coming after all, which is a shame. It'd be nice to get to know her better, and seven's a magic number that works well on trips. Luckily JK knows a fellow dad of a Down's lad who'd like to come and raise money for the Charidee, and all agree he'd be welcome.
JG not too keen on tents, and wondered if the more comfortable huts option includes satellite TV, so he can watch the rugby World Cup. Ponce! Can't decide whether he's just taking the piss or if he really hasn't grasped what he's letting himself in for. Probably the former but decide to take a tent to Wales to give him some idea - if nothing else it'll be a laugh (as long as nobody drinks Guiness the night before).
Some discussion on routes follows, based on web research (especially the entries from the African Walking Company on www.africatravelresource.com) and Bobby's book, Kilimanjaro: the Trekker's Guide to Africa's Highest Mountain (available from all good book shops, and some crap ones as well - although I'm a tad disappointed it's not called "How to Climb Kilimanjaro Without Farting" - we were big Monty Python fans back in the day).
Two routes stand out - Rongai and Machame - these seem to offer the highest success rate for inexperienced climbers (read middle-aged fat blokes), and include an element of ascent followed by descent early on to minimise altitude sickness - so we agree to further research these and make final decision after Punky's MOT. And here endeth the first call.
Blimey, that was easy. Big decisions made, action points allocated, date of next meeting set. This conference call mullarkey's so much more efficient than Bangers n Mash - and you don't get a monumental hangover the next morning. I'm a convert.
A conference call - now we're in business. Getting the boys together usually involves several hundred texts, a shed load of compromises and a large dollop of luck, all over a 6 week timeline. But we value the time together - so much so that it was only after suffering several years of curry nights that JG, JK and Bobby all admitted they don't actually like curry - so it's been Bangers n Mash since then (or in Bobby's case fish finger sandwiches. Marvelous. If only the S+M Cafe still did Ambrosia Cream Rice, I'd happily spend the rest of my life there).
Agenda duly arrives - 1) Punky's MOT. 2) Confirming commitment. 3) Agreeing date. 4) Route - tents v huts. 5) Kit. 6) Agree training weekend in Wales. 7) AOB. This is uber efficiency at its German best - I feel like I'm entering the jet set and wonder if I should dig the Cerrutti suit out especially for the occasion!
Predictably me and Bobby Backspin hit the call first. Punky and JK are fashionably late, followed by JG, who is so fashionably late it's virtually haute couture.
Punky's in for his MOT at the end of January, and he's already in training to make sure that he passes! Good lad. Fingers crossed.
Ideally we'd time the trip to reach the summit on Sept 12th, which is a full moon (the final ascent starts at midnight, climbing with torches strapped to head not as romantic). Sadly Punky has a global corporate wank-in that week, and Gooner D starts college after that, so we decide on the first week in September, as near to the full moon as we can.
Bobby Backspin confirms Crispy Backspin's not coming after all, which is a shame. It'd be nice to get to know her better, and seven's a magic number that works well on trips. Luckily JK knows a fellow dad of a Down's lad who'd like to come and raise money for the Charidee, and all agree he'd be welcome.
JG not too keen on tents, and wondered if the more comfortable huts option includes satellite TV, so he can watch the rugby World Cup. Ponce! Can't decide whether he's just taking the piss or if he really hasn't grasped what he's letting himself in for. Probably the former but decide to take a tent to Wales to give him some idea - if nothing else it'll be a laugh (as long as nobody drinks Guiness the night before).
Some discussion on routes follows, based on web research (especially the entries from the African Walking Company on www.africatravelresource.com) and Bobby's book, Kilimanjaro: the Trekker's Guide to Africa's Highest Mountain (available from all good book shops, and some crap ones as well - although I'm a tad disappointed it's not called "How to Climb Kilimanjaro Without Farting" - we were big Monty Python fans back in the day).
Two routes stand out - Rongai and Machame - these seem to offer the highest success rate for inexperienced climbers (read middle-aged fat blokes), and include an element of ascent followed by descent early on to minimise altitude sickness - so we agree to further research these and make final decision after Punky's MOT. And here endeth the first call.
Blimey, that was easy. Big decisions made, action points allocated, date of next meeting set. This conference call mullarkey's so much more efficient than Bangers n Mash - and you don't get a monumental hangover the next morning. I'm a convert.
Boy's Trip, Schmoy's Trip
"It's a boy's thing - you won't want me there" says Gooner D, rather unconvincingly. She usually says this about curry nights when she doesn't want to come. But Kilimanjaro's a step up from Brick Lane, or even Whitechapel, so I know she really wants to. After all, we went to the World Cup in South Africa for her 50th and had a brilliant time, despite England's best efforts to ruin it for all concerned, and we made a pact to do something equally memorable for mine. To make her feel welcome I try to dexterously navigate that fine line between assertive and caring.
"Don't be stupid, and don't exclude yourself. You know you want to come" Not the most sensitive start, I'll grant you. "I know it might looks like a Boys Own adventure, but everyone's welcome - the more the merrier. We'll have a great time, and it's for Charidee." That's a bit better. Sensing a softening, I go for the kill "And Crispy Backspin fancies it - it'll help her to know you're coming"
Bobby's better half interested but wavering - I wonder if she's having similar "best not to get in the way of all that male bonding" thoughts.
I'm not sure whether it was the knee in the groin opening, the we-can't-let-the-kiddies-down-now-can-we angle, or the lure of doing it for the sisterhood, but something's clicked and Gooner D is in. Great news.
"Don't be stupid, and don't exclude yourself. You know you want to come" Not the most sensitive start, I'll grant you. "I know it might looks like a Boys Own adventure, but everyone's welcome - the more the merrier. We'll have a great time, and it's for Charidee." That's a bit better. Sensing a softening, I go for the kill "And Crispy Backspin fancies it - it'll help her to know you're coming"
Bobby's better half interested but wavering - I wonder if she's having similar "best not to get in the way of all that male bonding" thoughts.
I'm not sure whether it was the knee in the groin opening, the we-can't-let-the-kiddies-down-now-can-we angle, or the lure of doing it for the sisterhood, but something's clicked and Gooner D is in. Great news.
Wednesday, 29 December 2010
Three thumbs up, and a definite maybe
"I'm up for it but cannot commit" says the text from Bobby Backspin. "Don't think training a problem as I'm fitter than the rest so prep time less"
Apart from distance running, where Punky shaded it, Bobby was the best at sport. He could have been a pro-cricketer, but gave it all up for love. He realised his mistake when she fucked off soon afterwards. A handsomely pre-nuped affair with Cricket, on the other hand, would have lasted much longer, and bought its own dress.
I ignore the "yes but no" element of the text. Winning at Kili-climbing would secure bragging rights for the next 10-years and Bobby's intense competitive streak wouldn't allow him to pass the opportunity up. He's in.
Less certain is Punky - "All sounds great - haven't got pass yet, health/ family consideration"
I forgot that he operates on reduced lung capacity from an illness years ago, so the altitude issue could scupper him completely. I run it past the younger brother, who's actually a physio specialising in back pain - which makes him the nearest thing we've got to a lung doctor, so is our oracle.
"Shouldn't be impossible - depends on how fit he is. Mental approach as important as physical condition on this type of climb"
(This sounds familiar. He once told me that 90% of back pain is in the mind. Unfortunately the other 10% was giving me gyp at the time. "I don't need some tu'penny ha'penny psychologist, I need some genuine TLC" I protested. "My point exactly" came the reply. Ouch!)
Gave the reassuring news to Punky "You'll be fine, as long as you remember to breathe using your diaphragm" I say, hoping it doesn't sound like I'm confusing mountaineering with opera singing.
"I see a specialist each January and will get his opinion then. Should be OK - still like to go skiing as well." says Punky. Bet his specialist isn't some tu'penny ha'penny backstreet quack, so that's a definite maybe - fingers crossed.
JG might need a nudge - so ping him a text "G, Kili update, if Punky can do it with half a lung, we've got no excuses"
"Heaven help me - count me in" comes the reply. Result!
Now for JK. "Son - Kili trip - its for your Charidee - are you in" Best not beat about the bush with JK - he's a man of action straight from the JFDI school of management
"I'd love to climb the bugger" That's a Yes then! Nice one. Now for the tricky Down on the Farm question.
"Great - now can I give you some suggestions regarding the name" I say, hoping this isn't going to cause grave offence. People often take criticism of their creative ideas far too personally - it's a nightmare. Telling someone their well-meant suggestion has got as much chance of flying as a Quorn sandwich has of making the menu of Le Gavroche, is as tricky as telling them you've given their daughter the clap.
"There's no easy way to say this"
"Think you already have then"
"The name should evoke some kind of positive ... er? ... dynamic ... em ... fuck it - the name stinks. Its a bad pun on your son's condition. Might put donors off"
"Thanks mate, I'll take your professional advice on that one"
Phew! I knew all these years working in brand management would eventually pay off. It's taken the best part of 25 years, but my classical marketing training has finally delivered something useful to the world.
Apart from distance running, where Punky shaded it, Bobby was the best at sport. He could have been a pro-cricketer, but gave it all up for love. He realised his mistake when she fucked off soon afterwards. A handsomely pre-nuped affair with Cricket, on the other hand, would have lasted much longer, and bought its own dress.
I ignore the "yes but no" element of the text. Winning at Kili-climbing would secure bragging rights for the next 10-years and Bobby's intense competitive streak wouldn't allow him to pass the opportunity up. He's in.
Less certain is Punky - "All sounds great - haven't got pass yet, health/ family consideration"
I forgot that he operates on reduced lung capacity from an illness years ago, so the altitude issue could scupper him completely. I run it past the younger brother, who's actually a physio specialising in back pain - which makes him the nearest thing we've got to a lung doctor, so is our oracle.
"Shouldn't be impossible - depends on how fit he is. Mental approach as important as physical condition on this type of climb"
(This sounds familiar. He once told me that 90% of back pain is in the mind. Unfortunately the other 10% was giving me gyp at the time. "I don't need some tu'penny ha'penny psychologist, I need some genuine TLC" I protested. "My point exactly" came the reply. Ouch!)
Gave the reassuring news to Punky "You'll be fine, as long as you remember to breathe using your diaphragm" I say, hoping it doesn't sound like I'm confusing mountaineering with opera singing.
"I see a specialist each January and will get his opinion then. Should be OK - still like to go skiing as well." says Punky. Bet his specialist isn't some tu'penny ha'penny backstreet quack, so that's a definite maybe - fingers crossed.
JG might need a nudge - so ping him a text "G, Kili update, if Punky can do it with half a lung, we've got no excuses"
"Heaven help me - count me in" comes the reply. Result!
Now for JK. "Son - Kili trip - its for your Charidee - are you in" Best not beat about the bush with JK - he's a man of action straight from the JFDI school of management
"I'd love to climb the bugger" That's a Yes then! Nice one. Now for the tricky Down on the Farm question.
"Great - now can I give you some suggestions regarding the name" I say, hoping this isn't going to cause grave offence. People often take criticism of their creative ideas far too personally - it's a nightmare. Telling someone their well-meant suggestion has got as much chance of flying as a Quorn sandwich has of making the menu of Le Gavroche, is as tricky as telling them you've given their daughter the clap.
"There's no easy way to say this"
"Think you already have then"
"The name should evoke some kind of positive ... er? ... dynamic ... em ... fuck it - the name stinks. Its a bad pun on your son's condition. Might put donors off"
"Thanks mate, I'll take your professional advice on that one"
Phew! I knew all these years working in brand management would eventually pay off. It's taken the best part of 25 years, but my classical marketing training has finally delivered something useful to the world.
Friday, 24 December 2010
Mt Boredom and the next best thing to a Raleigh Chopper
"Kili?" says Dick at work "Bit boring - I've done it twice. No specialist climbing involved, just a very long hike" Dick's a mountain climber. And not your poxy little "it's-really-just-a-big-hill-isn't-it" type of mountains - we're talking proper mountains, with all snow on the top. And he's done loads of them. He's got so many mountains notched on his belt it looks like a Toblerone.
"Sounds good to me" I say "We're not in it for the fun - it's for the kiddies. Mates Charidee"
"Oh aye - which one?"
"Good question - it's for people with Down's Syndrone - not got a name yet" I say, avoiding the Down on the Farm debate. (Must call JK before it's too late on this one. Gooner D (the missus), Punky, JG and Bobby Backspin agree the name sucks - still can't think of a gentle way to break it to him though).
"The only problem you might have is altitude sickness"
Altitude sickness - dogshite! This is bad news. I caught a dose when hiking the Inca Trail and it's not good. Developed for the CIA as an alternative to water-boarding, altitude sickness accounts for the second worst day of my life (beaten only by seeing Spurs lose 4-1 to Burnley while having an abscess on my tooth). Banging headache, total loss of energy and a constant feeling that you're about to explosively shit yourself - it's the work of an evil genius. The Peruvian cure, coca leaf tea and a chicken sandwich, probably not legal or available half way up Kilimanjaro. What to do?
"You can train in a pressure chamber - it might help you to acclimatise" says Dick, sensing he'd thrown a spanner in the works.
A pressure chamber! Wow. Now you're talking! I knew we'd need some hard core training to bring this rock under our command. And what a gadget. A pressure chamber. I haven't felt this excited by technology since I first clapped eyes on a Raleigh Chopper.
"Do you know any?" I ask, envisaging a trip to some SAS boot camp on the High Moors
"Sure, there's one in Covent Garden."
"The only problem you might have is altitude sickness"
Altitude sickness - dogshite! This is bad news. I caught a dose when hiking the Inca Trail and it's not good. Developed for the CIA as an alternative to water-boarding, altitude sickness accounts for the second worst day of my life (beaten only by seeing Spurs lose 4-1 to Burnley while having an abscess on my tooth). Banging headache, total loss of energy and a constant feeling that you're about to explosively shit yourself - it's the work of an evil genius. The Peruvian cure, coca leaf tea and a chicken sandwich, probably not legal or available half way up Kilimanjaro. What to do?
"You can train in a pressure chamber - it might help you to acclimatise" says Dick, sensing he'd thrown a spanner in the works.
A pressure chamber! Wow. Now you're talking! I knew we'd need some hard core training to bring this rock under our command. And what a gadget. A pressure chamber. I haven't felt this excited by technology since I first clapped eyes on a Raleigh Chopper.
"Do you know any?" I ask, envisaging a trip to some SAS boot camp on the High Moors
"Sure, there's one in Covent Garden."
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Anyone out there?
Waiting for replies felt a bit like farting in a meeting - you wonder if everyone's just politely ignoring you hoping you'll go away. Perhaps the confident approach was a little too strong? Don't want to hassle the boys but, actually I do want to hassle them - but without them noticing they're being hassled. Decide to adopt the helpful approach, coach them into it, unblock their barriers, make it easy for them to say yes.
Thinking the physical effort may be the obstacle (mind you Chris Moyles only vomited twice for Children in Need - so I'm sure we can do better, and only vomit once for our Charidee) - I decide to look into the physical requirements. This feels like a good idea - after all they're a bunch of old men.
Miraculously I haven't aged a bit since leaving school, so will no doubt get away with a few sessions on the treadmill and increasing the intensity of my road rage on the cycle ride into work (you'd be amazed at how knackering screaming obscenities at London traffic can be - must be the equivalent of a half hour cardio-vascular workout per occasion at least)
Seems like we need to get into decent shape first, then embark on an 8 week course of step machines, leg presses and hiking in boots with a weight on you back. Hiking in Boots! Bit basic if you ask me - where's the science in that? I thought we'd at least need specialist workouts in saunas wearing oxygen masks, with crampons and ropes with anchors on them - but no - seems Kilimanjaro is a very long uphill hike, followed by a marginally shorter downhill one.
Doesn't sound too onerous, so ping second email to the boys "Kilimanjaro update - training regime light, mainly walking for an hour three times a week. Bobby - you just need to carry you golf clubs for nine holes, JG - you could walk to work - and next time you're in Wales schlep up the nearest hill for a couple of hours. Need commitment - who's in?"
That should do it - not too hassley, Punky's a cert, Bobbie too - just hope JG and JK are up for it
Thinking the physical effort may be the obstacle (mind you Chris Moyles only vomited twice for Children in Need - so I'm sure we can do better, and only vomit once for our Charidee) - I decide to look into the physical requirements. This feels like a good idea - after all they're a bunch of old men.
Miraculously I haven't aged a bit since leaving school, so will no doubt get away with a few sessions on the treadmill and increasing the intensity of my road rage on the cycle ride into work (you'd be amazed at how knackering screaming obscenities at London traffic can be - must be the equivalent of a half hour cardio-vascular workout per occasion at least)
Seems like we need to get into decent shape first, then embark on an 8 week course of step machines, leg presses and hiking in boots with a weight on you back. Hiking in Boots! Bit basic if you ask me - where's the science in that? I thought we'd at least need specialist workouts in saunas wearing oxygen masks, with crampons and ropes with anchors on them - but no - seems Kilimanjaro is a very long uphill hike, followed by a marginally shorter downhill one.
Doesn't sound too onerous, so ping second email to the boys "Kilimanjaro update - training regime light, mainly walking for an hour three times a week. Bobby - you just need to carry you golf clubs for nine holes, JG - you could walk to work - and next time you're in Wales schlep up the nearest hill for a couple of hours. Need commitment - who's in?"
That should do it - not too hassley, Punky's a cert, Bobbie too - just hope JG and JK are up for it
Monday, 20 December 2010
The cold light of day
A new dawn breaks and reality checks in. Did we really decide to haul our ageing bones up some lump of rock in the middle of nowhere? (Tanzania actually, or is it Kenya? Amazed at how little of my Geography O-level has stuck. If only I'd had a private education - perhaps I could claim some money back).
Anyway, my recollection's 100% clear - Kili 5, St Anton nil. Sensing my compatriots may demand a recount, on the grounds of being in an advanced state of refreshment when the voting closed, I feel we need to cement the decision while the iron's hot. But how?
If you're planning a party, the first thing you need is a date. A quick check of various websites reveals Jan - March good, but there's no way we'll be ready in time. May - June (our preferred option) very bad. Very bad indeed. Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing would skip up backwards in a couple of hours, but not amateurs like us. Especially if your compatriots think anything below a 3 star hotel is slumming it; and the only tent they've ever slept in is the hospitality facility they passed out in at Twickenham. Apparently July - August not good because of kids school holidays ("I don't think you'll see many kids on the mountain, except the ones carrying our tents" I offer, completely missing the point)
So September seems optimal - far enough away that Bobby Backspin and Punky can schedule their busy schedules, JG - who runs his lawfirm with a keen eye on the work/life balance, can get his knee in good shape, the Ageing Hipster can convince his missus it's not a boys only thing (we went to the World Cup for her 50th, be great to do my 50th together) and JK can get childcare sorted at his country pile in the middle of nowhere (he bought a development opportunity in half of Norfolk, securing help that doesn't have six toes and webbed feet needs plenty of notice apparently)
The text goes out to the boys "Book first two weeks of September off for Kilimanjaro trip" No ifs or maybes, best to keep a confident, never-in-doubt-was-it, tone to these things, and see who blinks first. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, my recollection's 100% clear - Kili 5, St Anton nil. Sensing my compatriots may demand a recount, on the grounds of being in an advanced state of refreshment when the voting closed, I feel we need to cement the decision while the iron's hot. But how?
If you're planning a party, the first thing you need is a date. A quick check of various websites reveals Jan - March good, but there's no way we'll be ready in time. May - June (our preferred option) very bad. Very bad indeed. Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing would skip up backwards in a couple of hours, but not amateurs like us. Especially if your compatriots think anything below a 3 star hotel is slumming it; and the only tent they've ever slept in is the hospitality facility they passed out in at Twickenham. Apparently July - August not good because of kids school holidays ("I don't think you'll see many kids on the mountain, except the ones carrying our tents" I offer, completely missing the point)
So September seems optimal - far enough away that Bobby Backspin and Punky can schedule their busy schedules, JG - who runs his lawfirm with a keen eye on the work/life balance, can get his knee in good shape, the Ageing Hipster can convince his missus it's not a boys only thing (we went to the World Cup for her 50th, be great to do my 50th together) and JK can get childcare sorted at his country pile in the middle of nowhere (he bought a development opportunity in half of Norfolk, securing help that doesn't have six toes and webbed feet needs plenty of notice apparently)
The text goes out to the boys "Book first two weeks of September off for Kilimanjaro trip" No ifs or maybes, best to keep a confident, never-in-doubt-was-it, tone to these things, and see who blinks first. Fingers crossed.
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