Adjusting

Adjusting to the "mountaineering/adventure traveller" version of Cate is taking a bit of a spine-twisty type stretch. Cracking noise as I fix my gaze in a different direction entirely.

After the surprisingly efficient (if unsafe!) departure from entebbe, my flight to kili was on a shiny plane that would have done Porter proud. We flew across red eloquent plains that I assume were the masai mara, but I have to check my map. The kilimanjaro valley is surprisingly flat, the air sharply clean after kampala, flowering trees and green everywhere. A very different africa for me.

There was a moment, when I thought that entebbe my be closed for the day yesterday, where it was almost a relief that I might miss the start of this trek and head home. Just a flicker of feeling tired, done, a little daunted by the impending effort, especially given that I'm still carrying the bacteria that means that my food leaves me pretty much as soon as it's consumed. But as soon as I landed at the surprisingly charming and clean kili airport, that changed. Kilimanjaro comes quick in succession with words like casablanca, zanzibar, serengeti, for the Romantic Africa. And when I saw the stars popping sharply at me and realized I have 5 nights of lightless dark, I literally giggled a bit with relief. Another wave of exploring this world, Tanzanian workers here yelling at each other as Ugandans never do, some swahili to learn, my body to rely on.

Off to lay out my gear to have it inspected. We start climbing in the morning.