Kilimanjaro, Day Three: Don't Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch

Eeeeeeeeeee! The peak! It was on our way to Horombo when we first witnessed the highest point in Africa. Wow - a mission sure comes to life when you can see it! Of course, I couldn't let the moment pass us by without a TEAM GREEN photo shoot and we needed to wait for TEAM YELLOW to arrive in order to digitalize the memories. TEAM YELLOW consisted of two key members - Mohamed (who we met at the previous night's dinner) and John (coincidentally, Robert's older brother). The pair were happy to capture our "there it is!" excitement and we gladly exchanged places to return the favour.



The hike to Horombo was very much like "The Lord of the Rings", or so Phillip describes it. (I wasn't as in to the comparison, as my attention span is not suitable for three hour films). We traveled over bridges and streams, past cliffs and meadows, feeling as though we were the only "tribe" on the entire mountain. Pole-pole we went, stopping only for quick washroom breaks, water breaks, and a horrifying lunch break. The latter rest was terror at its best. It entailed crummy sandwiches of hobbit-size proportions and hovering crows of hulk-size proportions. If you know me, you know I have an intense fear of birds - or crows, in particular. It tested my nerves being on those metal picnic benches and I hoped and hoped we would be on our way up soon. Luckily, breaks are just that and we continued along until Horombo was reached.



Dinner proved much more delicious than lunch and Phil repeatedly commented "it's delicious" when the waitor came, using the Swahili we were taught two days previous. He had been using some well-rehearsed words to express his satisfaction with the chef, although tonight we found out he had rehearsed the terms improperly. That poor cook, Jackob.......Phil was referencing his culinary preparations as "viruses". JEEZ PHIL! You really do have the worst of luck!

After dinner, our waitor, Gilbert, became our guide as we took a short evening walk to acclimatize. It was a fun excursion up, as Gilbert worked hard to converse in English while Phil tried his best to talk "football" in return. It was even more fun to see Phil describe the game of "ice hockey" to Gilbert, who smiled in awe at the idea of skates and rubber pucks. Our relationship with Gilbert really blossomed over this short hike and Phil termed him "Gilbert - the Dragon Slayer" in honour of his long, dragon-like toque.

Before we began the descent back to camp, I took a break and warned Phil of my pounding headache. It was the first time I had doubts about my success on the mountain and I was worried that I would disappoint Phil if I couldn't go all the way. "This is for you," he surprised me as he handed over a heart-shaped rock. "I found it earlier and was saving it for a time when you need to be cheered up." Ahh....and my bottom-of-the-mountain "YES!" was solidified again. I gained some spirit from the gift and we returned to Horombo for bed.



Just before we hit the sack, Robert came to ask us how we would like our eggs in the morning. "We want to make them special for you!" he said. "How sweet," we thought as Phil placed an order for scrambled and I requested them over-easy. Wow! Talk about personal service on a mountain....our mouths watered as we looked forward to the upcoming breakfast. But then, "Oh no....I forgot!" Robert panicked. "All of the eggs are broken! You can't have eggs!"

Haha, and so it goes.....