Thanks again for all your support.

And please continue to support Help For Heroes as they really do do some truly great work.

Rhiannon xx

I spent most of my time with both Nici and Stacey who have so much dedication, determination and drive. We laughed a lot on the trip, from trying to work out what Mel and Steve really did to having our pulses taken where they were ridiculously high (I think the laughter there was more nervous laughter though!) to Nici wriggling around in her sleeping bag like a worm to Stacey having to wear ski goggles on the top of Kili despite it not snowing to having a beer and cracking up at how drunk Mel, Steve, Lee and Mark had got themselves when we got down to our last camp! Amongst many other times. We cried a lot together, too. Stacey had a couple of very specific fears on the journey that at times got to her but she was strong, faced up to them and did it. Nici, as she explained, took a big fall that shook her up. I gave her a hug when we were reunited at a break stop and we shared some tears – Nici’s of shock; mine, a few tears of relief that she was ok. And I cried, too. Tears rolling down my cheeks as the pain increased in my knee or as I finally reached the camp after getting to the summit.

But both girls were also with me at very defining moments, too, where again they helped me to get up and down Kilimanjaro.

**You can hear the audio blog here which features a little surprise towards the end or carry on reading below…

Nici and Stacey: Friends and Heros

I’ll go back to summit day. It was around 7am. We’d been trekking for 6 hours already. I’d just been sick after having some warm water. Stacey herself wasn’t feeling great and wasn’t sure if she’d make it. I’d already tried to give her some encouraging words as well as making sure that she was telling us if there was something more serious than how she was feeling so that Simon and Hannah could properly assess the situation. She returned the encouraging words to me. She helped me forget about how tired I was despite being shattered herself. When I stopped, looking for a moment to nap, she made sure I nibbled on something instead or took a slurp of water. But one of the most important moments for me was having her help me make the decision of whether to carry onto the top of Kili up to Uhuru point, or not.

We’d reached the summit. I was proud of that. I was tired, emotional and felt terrible. As we sat for a slurp of tea or coffee or warm water – whatever it was -  in the shade with Manisha and Harshil, Stacey and I talked about whether we should carry on to the highest point – Uhuru Point. Another hour there and back at least in my state. Simon didn’t think it was a great idea. I wanted to make it to the very top so so much. I felt stupid to have come so far and to not carry on. But as Stacey and I talked about it a bit more, we wised up. We both needed to get down and that was going to be enduring enough anyway, without having to add another 2 hours just to get to the highest point. We both agreed it was for the best. Simon agreed, too. I’m glad Stacey was there to help me make that decision because if I’d gone up, with now knowing in what sort of state I was in coming back down , I wouldn’t have been in a good state at all and things could’ve been a lot more serious for me. Despite all of that, a little part of me still wishes I’d got to the top and I still feel a bit disappointed in myself for not getting there. But I guess it’s like Simon had said at our first group meeting: “It’s your journey and no one else’s. Whatever happens happens and you have to be proud of whatever you achieve because this won’t be easy”. Guess I’ll have to come back and do it again someday…

The other member of our ’3 Girls, 1 Mountain, 1 Cause’ team was Nici. Nici was my motivation and true inspiration right from the word go, long before we even started the trek, when she first mentioned about doing this. I know how much she hates heights and that I’m sure she’d admit that walking up a mountain isn’t normally her thing (and it’s not mine either!). I guess that’s one of the reasons why they call this a challenge! There were many moments throughout the trek where Nici faced her fears and that in itself helped me to face mine and get on with the trek. When Nici took a tumble, she was so brave and just got on with it. I knew she was shook up (and who wouldn’t be, falling off on a bloomin’ mountain edge?!) but she just kept on going and didn’t want it to affect her. She also faced her fear of heights on Barranco wall. I know she didn’t enjoy that part that much but strangely I loved that bit; scrambling over the rocks, stretching and reaching over gaps with hundreds of feet below you. It was exhilarating and made me feel alive. I like that feeling. Then again, I don’t have a fear of heights. So to watch Nici, and many of the others, face that wall head on was very encouraging. That resilience and courage is what you need around you on the mountain and it helped me so much to know I had Nici to look to for motivation throughout our adventure.

But there’s one moment that I’ll never forget on the mountain. The moment when, after having taken around 10 hours to reach the summit, 3 hours to get back down to camp and after having collapsed twice on the mountain, I saw Nici greeting people back into camp. I’d been so worried about her. She’d not been in a good way when we started trekking in pitch black darkness on the summit day and through no fault of her own had to come back down to rest and make sure she got better. To see her not only looking well but in great spirits congratulating everyone coming down and making sure they were ok was amazing. That was my ‘marathon runner sprinting to the finish line’ moment. I went and hugged her and cried. I asked how she was only for her to be asking how I was, making sure I was ok. She helped me to the tent and became ‘nurse Nici’ for the next hour. She was with me the rest of the way down to the next camp that day, too. We had a beer together (albeit I only had a slurp because I still felt rotten – it turns out it was a stomach bug I had as I was ill for the next four days after that!). And then went and shared our tent for the last time on the mountain. Nici’s strength, courage and compassion were just some of the things that helped me achieve our goal.

Stacey and Nici, thank you for being you and being there for me. You got me up that mountain.

I always find it quite daunting at first meeting so many new people at once, especially when they’re in their own little groups. But it was fine. In fact, it was brilliant. Each and every single person helped me along the way because everyone was so helpful, thoughtful, caring and encouraging. We were one big team, all with the same aim. But there were some stand out moments from some individuals who made me laugh, feel better, feel like getting to the top was do-able and who were simply just great company.

**You can listen here to the audio blog or carry on reading the rest of the blog below…

The Group

As we met Steve and Mel, stood by the side of the road as our buswas being fixed, I knew this adventure was going to be fun. Trying to convince us they sold viagra for a living, it took us girls a few days to work out what these cheeky chappies really did for a living. But the damage was already done by then. The night before the trek, at our kit and prep meeting, we had to get into small groups to make ‘buddies’; those would be the people we’d look for when we stopped to make sure the whole group was together and that no one was lost. We joined with Steve and Mel. Team Viagra was thus born. And I’m glad it was. They were great fun to be with since they’d been friends since school. They’d wind each other up and bicker like a married couple. It was especially funny when you could hear them in their tents – they were a real comedy duo! They always lifted my, and everyone else’s, spirits. But they were also good at being sensible when they needed to be; they wouldn’t leave us girls on summit day for the first bit and despite being petrified themselves of Barranco wall, they helped us over, too. It was a great pleasure meeting them and they really helped me get up the mountain. Oh, and Steve offered the quote of the trip for me: “This is how I ride”. Classic. I practically spat my soup out as he said it.

Christine meant a lot to me on the trip, also. She struggled quite a lot, probably more than most. That doesn’t matter though. Some will find it easier than others, some harder. But Christine didn’t give up. Not once. Nor did she complain. She was fantastic. And she made it to the summit. Her courage and determination were a great strength for me to look to do the same.

Finally, a stand out moment for me looking back was Manisha getting all the way to the top. She’d been ill like me and struggling a bit but kept on going. I’m so happy she did (and I bet she is, too) as Harshil proposed at the top! They’re a lovely couple and were so sweet on the trip; it was lovely to be around them.

So those are just a few moments that stand out for me that made the trip what it was and moments that helped me get myself up Mount Kilimanjaro. But like I said, it was a group effort; we all mucked in together, would share stories with different people whilst walking, at lunch and at dinner and, most importantly, achieve something pretty amazing and special in those six days.

**You can listen to the audio blog here or read below…
Will: The assistant Action Challenge guide

On the third day, Will and I walked together quite a bit up to Lava Tower. It was great chatting to different people each day and I think it was good to mix it up a bit since it kept your mind occupied on hearing new stories and learning about other people, instead of thinking about food, bed, showers, being cold, wishing for warmth etc etc. Will was in fact the youngest on the trip. But he was an experienced outdoorsy type person. He loves to rock climb and when I say rock climb, I mean climb great big vertical cliffs and sleep on them overnight, suspended by ropes, vertically. So it shows that age is nothing but a number and, again, it was great to have someone looking after us who was so experienced that you really felt you could trust your life with.

**You can listen here to the audio blog about how Hannah, the doctor, helped me get up the mountain or you can continue reading below…

Hannah: The doctor

Hannah, the doctor, was fantastic. Not only was it reassuring to have a medic with us but Hannah herself was reassuring. She was honest with her thoughts about things like Diamox (a drug that can help with altitude sickness despite not actually being for that specifically and which I didn’t take and then I got worried about that!); she took the time to listen to everyone’s concerns no matter how big or how small; and she worked so hard to make sure she was there to help everyone. It was so good to have someone with us who you could trust immediately.

I’ve already explained how tricky summit day was for me and how Hannah helped me out the night before and on the day itself. But there’s a bit more drama to add to the story. When I got down to camp I pretty much collapsed into my tent (after already having collapsed on the mountain from my knee buckling and from sheer exhaustion). Nici had greeted me into camp and helped me to our tent. She then got Hannah. What happened next was probably one of the most bizarre things to have happened in my life, as well as probably Nici and Hannah’s, too. Nici became a nurse for the next hour as she assisted Hannah in propping up a drip. Yes. A drip. In a tent. At around 5,000m up Mount Kilimanjaro.  I led there not quite taking it all in. Although I do remember Hannah saying she hadn’t set up a drip like this before and was excited to do so! Odd and a little scary. But I guess for her she felt like she was putting her skills to the test.  Hannah and Nici were great. With the drip hanging from where I guess you’d usually hang a lamp from in a little 2 man tent, I was hooked up and re-hydrating. That certainly helped me to get down the mountain again later in the day.

But the thing is, it wasn’t all drama for the whole trip. Although many of the days were long (around 10 hours each day of trekking on average) and at times you felt like the end was completely out of sight, we had a lot of fun and time did go by quite fast. This was mainly down to the games we often played (going through the alphabet naming movie stars/sports people/cars or playing ‘animal vegetable mineral’), the great camaraderie of the group and Hannah’s stories. Hannah’s a Kiwi and has a great sense of humour. With that she had some great tales about things she’d come across when studying medicine. Now, I can’t repeat them here for they are too gross/cringe worthy! But this kind of thing was perfect for the mountain. It took our minds off being tired, hungry and cold and instead kept us laughing and in great spirits – although I’m glad many of the stories weren’t shared at dinner time, that’d have been too much! So Hannah, thanks for your great medical help, your amazing company and your gross stories! They all helped me to get up and down Kili

**You can listen here to the audio version of the blog with a clip of some of Simon’s inspirational words or you can simply carry on reading…

Simon: The Action Challenge leader

The night before summit day I’d started feeling ill as soon as I’d got into camp. We’d been trekking for around 10-12 hours. It had been a long day. We were to have around an hours kip before dinner then an early night as we were to set off at around 1 or 2am for the last trek up the mountaint to reach the summit. I, however, got into camp around an hour later along with Nici, Stacey and a couple of others. Nici and I had just got into our sleeping bags when Will, the Action Challenge assistant guide, tapped on the tent announcing “dinner’s ready, time to get up”. Get up?! GET UP?! I’d been ‘getting up’ the mountain all day and all I wanted to do now was to get down to sleep just for an hour or so like we’d been promised. Poor Will. I let out a desperate and rather rude exclamation of how I felt. And then I burst into tears. I was feeling shattered, emotional and sick all at the same time. Some food inside my belly would surely be the answer?

Trays of chicken, garlic and something else came out and I immediately felt sick. Now, for those that don’t know me, I love food. I’m not a picky eater and I can quite happily eat at any time of the day. So to be off my food, especially after trekking for around 12 hours, was an indication that something wasn’t quite right. I tried a few spoonfuls of soup and a mouthful of bread to start, then a bite of chicken and whatever garlic stuff it was for the main and God knows what was for dessert as I was out of the tent, crying to Hannah, the doctor, and subsequently throwing up on my, as well as her, nice walking boots moments later. Did I feel better for that? No. No I didn’t. Did I try to force more food down me in fear of having zero energy and not being able to make it up the mountain the next day? Yes. Yes, I did. Did that go well? Not so much. Did I go to bed feeling dizzy, sick, nervous, scared, anxious and plain right exhausted? Yes. Did I sleep well in preparation for ‘the’ day? In a word: no.

So going back to how Simon helped me, I’ll fast forward a bit. After having only had a few hours of sleep, no breakfast, a few mouth falls of some sort of energy syrup (imagine Lucozade flavoured cough medicine) I was on the way up the mountain heading towards the summit (by the way, that sounds like I was close… I was still probably some 7 hours away from the top!). When we first woke up, it was pitch black. All I could see were twinkling stars, the twinkling head torches, the twinkling frost on the rocks and the twinkling lights of Moshi, the town in the distance behind us way way below. It was a poetic site and a moment, for me, that made me really feel like I was on Mount Kilimanjaro and that it was all very real. This was it. I was on the way to the top.

It was a few hours in. I’d originally stuck with the group. Mel and Steve were being true ‘buddies’ making sure we all stayed together; it didn’t matter if I was going at a snail’s pace or Nici needed a quick stop and slurp of ice-cold water or Stacey needed a wee stop, they were there for us. Unfortunately, I had to stop for a while as I felt terrible. Now, I’ve been tired in my life before but to feel exhausted, now I knew the true meaning of the word. I took myself off to the side to catch my breath (the cold, sharp air was also playing on my chest) and Joseph helped me out. I felt like I could’ve slept there and then, propped up by Joseph in the dark on a freezing cold mountain. But none of that, I had to keep going.

There were many pivotal moments that day that helped me get up the mountain when I was with Simon. The first was hearing across the radio that Nici had to go back down. At first panic set in. Was she ok? What had happened? As Nici explained, she wasn’t in a great way. She’d tried so hard to continue but wasn’t allowed for health reasons. I was gutted for her. To this day she’s still one of my motivations and inspirations for getting up that mountain, which I will come to explain later (in part 7). At that moment, Simon turned to me and said we needed to get up there and do it for the charity and now for Nici. With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, I knew he was right. So off I went again. Plod. Plod. Plod. Pole. Pole. Pole.

It wasn’t long before Simon came to my rescue again. Now it was light. I’d witnessed the most incredible sunrise. We were above the clouds and as the sun peeped over the white, fluffy horizon a blazing band of red appeared, gradually getting lighter the further the colours faded up into the sky. Shame I really was too tired and cold to mess about with my gloves, coat and bag to capture the sight on camera. And not only was I tired and cold but I was sick. Properly sick. We’d taken a moment to stop to get some warmth inside us. I was with Simon, Hannah and Stacey and Stacey was getting colder and colder to the point we weren’t sure if hypothermia was setting in. Luckily it wasn’t. We had a few slurps of warm water. Two minutes later, it reappeared. That was not good news. Again, energy was draining out of my body metaphorically and literally. I was now getting worried and at that point I hit ‘the wall’. Simon got me some more sickly sweet energy gels, Hannah gave me an injection in the posterior(!) to stop the sickness and they both gave me encouraging words and helped me to focus. I was not going to let this stop me.

I can’t remember at what point we were at when the landscape changed but I reckon we were about an hour or so from the summit. We’d been winding around large rocks and climbing up some sloping boulders when it seemed like things had got a bit steeper with the stones underfoot turning finer, more like gravel. It was at this point where I really was going too slow. It was honestly taking me a minute or two to walk just 10 metres. I was drained. Whenever we stopped, I tried to find a stone to lean against to have a nap. A no-no on the mountain. Simon sternly told me to wake up and stay with it. He also told me that if I kept going at the pace I was going at, I would not make it as I’d not have enough time to get back down not only to the camp we’d slept at but down to the next camp, too. Yep, after around 10 hours of trekking up, we had 6 hours in total of going down. All in one day. So, I really did have a ‘do I continue or do I go down’ thought to myself with probably only 30 minutes to go until the summit. Simon said one thing to me that really was the last bit of fuel I had to use as motivation and energy to get me up there. Think of who you’re doing this for. Think of the people who your chosen charity helps. Think of those soldiers and the families. Think of everyone at home who’ve supported you so far. That was it. Off I went. Now don’t think I suddenly zipped off  up the mountain like when marathon runners find spare energy towards the end of their race and they sprint through the finish line. No. Don’t think that at all. I just had the sheer determination from Simon’s words to put one foot in front of the other and to keep going. Pole pole. He still had to guide me up, giving me markers in the distance as the next point I was allowed to stop at… but then that would change as we got closer in order to keep me going; like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

But it worked. My did it work. The last few steps up to the summit that I took with Stacey and now Joseph were incredible. I didn’t know what to feel. And when I look back, I still don’t know what to feel. I know that Joseph hugged me and I cried. I know that I went to sit down in the shade to have some hot water. I know that I hugged Stacey and we had our pictures taken by Simon. I know I took a video of the summit and my voice cracked and broke half way through from the emotion. I know all of these things and yet I’m still not sure how I actually felt at that moment of reaching the top. Words just can’t describe it and I don’t think it was just one single emotion, either.

Thank you to everyone I’ve mentioned above but especially to Simon for your patience, your hard work and your encouraging, motivational words. That was one of the ways I got up the mountain.

**you can listen here to the blog where there are clips of the songs the porters and guides sang for us or you can carry on reading below…

The Local Guides

Plod. Plod. Plod. “Pole pole!!”. At times I wanted to shout back: “I’ll tell you where to stick that pole” but in fact “pole pole” means ‘slowly’ in Swahili and I’d certainly got the wrong end of the stick. Before setting off on our mammoth trek up the mammoth hill, Simon – our team leader – and Ema – the lead local guide – warned us about the pace that we’d need to take. “Don’t overtake the guide who’s setting the pace or you’ll end up carrying the bags he’s carrying” were the words of warning. And a good little threat that was too since the bags the guides and porters were carrying weren’t light! We weren’t to go at a speedy Gonzalez pace since we needed to make sure we used our energy wisely and, more importantly, took time to acclimatise. But when we set off, the pace felt incredibly laboured already. I just wanted to get going. I was pumped up, ready to face what we’d been getting ready for for months and months. But I did what I was told and soon enough my usual motor mouth got working harder than my legs as I got chatting to the others in our group; my good walking pace slowed as I got distracted with everyone else’s stories. This piece of advice, to take our time up the mountain, was one of the things that got me up there. I was probably one of the last into camp each evening (often missing the incredible ‘welcome’ songs from our guides and porters!) but I didn’t care. I felt good, I didn’t get altitude sickness and my legs were feeling strong.

Unfortunately, the whole trek didn’t go as smoothly as the first couple of days. Joseph, one of the local guides, ended up being my own personal guide for 2 days as well as a porter as he helped me get up Kili. It was the third day in, the Sunday, and I knew that that was the day my knee was going to give me a bit of agro since we had to descend to sleep lower at night as part of our acclimatisation on the mountain. Back in the summer, when on Mount Snowdon doing the Three Peaks National Challenge, I’d hurt my knee on the descent. A visit to the physio, odd foot scrunching exercises and special insoles later and my knee was still a bit dodgy and I was warned it’d probably still hurt on the way down. The physio was right. Out came my knee support, the insoles and some extra strength ibuprofen.  And without asking, up popped Joseph offering to carry my rucksack as I hobbled down to camp.  And he gave a helping hand/shoulder many a time too, helping me to navigate rocky outcrops, uneven stones and steep paths.

2 days later and I found Joseph doing the same again for me on the way down from the summit. My knee had been fine on the way up on summit day but I knew it’d be a different story getting back down. It was trickier than a couple of days before since the terrain was completely different nearer the top of the mountain; finer stones easily slipped from under my feet; at times you could just slide down parts but that impacted my knee too much.  To be honest, I just remember getting down as being sheer hell (for reasons explained in more detail in part 3 – Simon). I’d never been so exhausted and the pain in my knee was excruciating. I had to stop so many times. I even begged Joseph to let me sleep just for 10 minutes so that I could get a bit more energy. As if that would really made any difference! As we approached sturdier ground, Joseph suddenly scooped me up and carried me. We came across some porters – God knows if they were with our group or another – and then they helped out too, taking it in turns to carry me to help poor Joseph. But Joseph really had been my hero. I had been too stubborn to ask for help but he insisted and I’m glad he did because without him, getting up and down Kili would’ve been a whole lot harder than it already had been.

Finally, the porters and local guides as a whole were FANTASTIC. I really can’t tell you how incredible these men are. Coming from different tribes in Tanzania, many from the Chugga or Masaai that live close to Kilimanjaro, it actually felt like we were all apart of one big tribe. They’d pass yelling ‘mambo’ and ‘jambo’ (as Nici explained, it took us a while to work out how to successfully reply). This simply lifted our spirits as it felt we were all in it together. I can’t remember exactly who it was but I think it was Geoffrey who taught us  ‘poa kachizi kama ndizi’ which means ‘cool like a banana’. The porters loved it when we replied to their greetings with this one! It just bought everyone together.

They also provided amazing encouragement when we reached our camps each night. Like I’ve already touched on, I was always one of the last into camp and thus missing the songs and just having to make do with a cuppa (which I say in jest since that‘s what I‘d been craving each day since lunch!). On the second day, though, Stacey and I got our own personal rendition of the welcome song from Geoffrey as camp came into sight which was very special – as well as a repeat of the birthday song they’d sung for Pauline on the first night (along with the bread and mustard cake that they’d made for us!). But it was the third day that was most memorable as well as our final morning on the mountain. Hobbling down with Joseph and Stacey, camp came into sight as we went round the corner of the dramatic cliffs that towered above us. We could hear hums of singing and as we got closer the tune got louder and everyone was dancing too, doing the traditional Masaai jump style dance. It was an amazing sight. Something that although it was for everyone, felt very personal to me. I’d had a crappy day getting down with my knee in it’s support and  being drugged up on ibuprofen but this took away all the pain. What a welcome and what a form of motivation.

And as good as they were at welcoming us, they were as good as saying thanks and goodbye. On our final morning we did a ‘lucky dip’ for the porters as some of us gave away our stuff that we didn’t need anymore (it was either Mark or Lee who pretty much gave away everything since they vowed never to go trekking up a mountain again!). They were so happy with what we gave them – even the young ‘gangster’ style porter who received Stacey’s size 3 trainers! They were so appreciative and they thanked us in song and dance. It was perfect.

They were also fantastic for the job they did. Now, I know it’s their job and that’s what they’re paid to do but, seriously, a lot of respect goes to those men who carried our bags, camping equipment, food, water and everything else we needed. There we were struggling at times and feeling tired; there they were strolling on past us, no bother at all. And without any complaints. Just words of encouragement for us. A very humbling experience.

Finally, I also want to say how inspiring these guys are. I had a great chat on the first couple of days with Moses, a guide from the Chugga tribe. He’s been doing this for years and is training to become a lead guide. But it’s a long process. You start off as a porter and then you have training and have to take exams to become a local guide. Then there’s more training and experience is needed to become a lead guide. And this all costs money, too. Moses also has a wife and children who he supports. He was very proud of this and so he should be. He, and the other men (some young and some old), were truly inspirational not just in the way they helped to motivate me to get up the mountain but in their approach to life, too. They work incredibly hard and sacrifice their time with their families to provide for them and not once did I hear one of them complain about life and how hard it can be for them at times. Thank you for getting me up the mountain and teaching me invaluable lessons in how we should all look at our lives.

**you can listen to the blog here with a bit of audio from the trek itself or simply continue reading…

Setting the scene…

Getting to Kilimanjaro was a mission in itself. Starting at home, my train was late to Swindon station which meant I’d be late getting to my next destination for my next journey to get to Heathrow. There I was, stacked with 20kg of gear on my back, 7kg of even more clothes, mountain equipment and snacks in a rucksack on my front, sprinting *ahem* to get the connecting bus at Reading station to Heathrow. With Nici having the same stressful journey, I was happy when us 3 girls were united at the airport ready to embark on this incredible adventure.

Meet our guides. Check in. Pub food. Go to gate. Board flight. It’s now 9pm. Sleep was the order of the day for me whilst Nici and Stacey watched a film. More food at 11pm. Sleep. Arrive in Ethiopia. 7am. Cold’s developed, just what I needed. Feeling rotten and bored. Flight to Nairobi and then on to Tanzania.

Sneeze. Cough. Splutter. I wasn’t feeling so great. But the warmth of the African sun cheered me up as we stepped off the plane… plus, I was in Africa! A continent I’d always wanted to visit although I never thought I’d be visiting it in this way!

Golden brown, crispy crops covered the arid, dusty landscape as we bumped along on a fairly decent tarmac road on our way to Arusha.  Fairly decent until we hit a rock. Tire bursts and we find ourselves on the side of the road quickly applying sun cream in the baking heat waiting for the repairs. Enter Mel and Steve, two great characters from Hertfordshire. After some jokes and some not so accurate stories, I knew they’d feature a lot in this little adventure.

A while later, we were on the move. Arusha, 4.30pm. The hotel was luxurious. I’m not sure if it was a tease as our last taste of normality before 6 days of no showers, peeing into chemical toilets, sleeping bags instead of duvets and of course hours and hours of walking, or if it was a treat. Shower. Meeting. Re pack bags. Worry I won’t be warm enough on the mountain at night. Worry I don’t have enough snacks. Worry my bag’s too heavy. Worry again about the whole thing. Back to room. Then buffet dinner. Sneeze. Cough. Splutter. I still don’t feel great and worry I’ll get worse. As you can imagine, I didn’t sleep great as my mind was reeling…

6.15 am. A time we were to see a lot of over the next few days (although it didn’t mean we got used to it!). Up and out of bed sharp. Shower and mind into gear. Well, not before a good breakfast and a cup of coffee.

An hour or so later and we were on the bus, approaching the entrance to the Machame route that we were to take up Mount Kilimanjaro. Camel packs filled with water.  More coffee and biscuits. We were already at 1800m which was nice. Only 4000 more to go then! A quick warm up, a meeting with our local guides and porters, a puff on the old inhaler and we were off. 10.35am read my bright blue, plastic kid’s watch. The trek had begun.

So with all of that in mind, I’m finally ready to revisit those few days back in October where 3 girls (along with a fair few others) attempted to conquer 1 mountain for 1 cause. As I’ve already said, Nici wrote about our experiences in a very detailed way (I’m glad she did as I didn’t even have half that stuff in my diary!). Well, I want to reflect on the journey by posing a question that I’m sure many of my friends have asked since finding out I was taking on the challenge: just how did you get up that mountain? Well, let me try to answer that…

I hope you’ve enjoyed my write ups of Kilimanjaro.  I hope my long essays of inane waffling (which is my general state of mind anyway) provided some sense of what we went through and how it felt.  I hope that it inspires someone to do this, or to do another big challenge!

I can honestly say that was a life changing experience.  It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the hardest, strangest, most rewarding, most amazing thing I’ve ever done, and I suspect ever will do.  I can’t stop thinking about what to do next, I really, really feel the need for another challenge.  I’m sure my parents will be thrilled to hear that!  Of course, I’ll have to wait a while for my next challenge, for now I need to focus on my “real” life, not to mention to let all those pockets refill that we’ve emptied for the last 6 months!

I’m going to take this opportunity to get a bit emotional.  The support we’ve received over the last 6 months has just been outstanding.  At last count, we have raised £11,876.67 (including Gift Aid).  That is just unbelievable.  And it’s really down to all our supporters.  There are of course too many to mention, and I really intend to (one day) send a personal thanks to every one that I can.  For now, I’ll just say a deep, heartfelt thank you to you all.

I also want to say a massive thank you to everyone who shared this amazing experience with us.  To all of you in our Action Challenge group – thank you, thank you, thank you for all the support and laughter, and even the fear and tears.  I could not have asked for a nicer group to do that with – I was concerned before I went about getting on with everyone, I really had no reason to worry.

Thank you to Simon and Will – our Action Challenge leaders.  They were absolute stars, excellent at organising, and more importantly so approachable.  I had no qualms about relying on Will to help me up the Barranco Wall or going crying to Simon for reassurance that I’d never have to do anything like that again!  Thank you to Hannah The Doctor, who went with the tour voluntarily to offer her services and who is genuinely the best doctor, and one of the nicest and funniest people I’ve ever met.  Thank you to the Summits Africa team – Emanuel, Moses, Ben, Jackson, Joseph, Geofrey, Godwin (our guides), Christian (my bag porter) and all the porters.  They run a tight ship and without them, climbing Kilimanjaro would be near impossible!

And finally… thanks to Stacey and Rhiannon for agreeing to partake this crazy adventure with me.  All it took was for me to mention my plans for them to offer to do it with me.  And it wasn’t just the climbing that was crazy – the fundraising was intensive, stressful, and took up huge amounts of their time.  But it was fun, and although I was willing to do this by myself, it was fantastic to have that support network up the mountain and on the journey there.

That’s my Oscar speech over for now.

I’ve really enjoyed writing this blog, and again I hope that you’ve found it interesting, informative and entertaining.

Nici xxx

One more thing – we only have 1 week left of sponsorship and fundraising time left, so if these blogs have inspired you to sponsor us (falling down Kilimanjaro must be worth a couple of bob, surely?!) then please visit our Justgiving site!