Sun 31st Jul '16 - Day 2

Arusha

A welcome seven-hour sleep broken only by a toilet break due to the diuretic nature of the altitude sickness pills (Diamox) taken for the first time on arrival.

Breakfast in the circular restaurant in the adjacent building; Africafe instant coffee, scrambled eggs, bread, sausage, fried vegetable frittatas and two pancakes.

Although we have a rest/preparation day we make a start on uncertain unpacking and repacking ahead of John’s supposed arrival at 11am. The trek is a step in to the unknown for all of us – should I wear this jumper, or have it in my day pack for easy access or should it go in the duffel bag which I can’t access till the end of Day 1? How many snacks will I need each day? Will I need my water proofs? Who has clean drinking water? How much do I need to carry? The 3 rooms set up a system of boiling water in the kettle and finding bottles that won’t melt to allow the water to cool down.

John’s arrival is half an hour delayed by seemingly nothing in particular. He takes us in to Arusha along the dusty road interspersed with severe speed bumps. It starts to feel like we’ve arrived in Africa with one storey tin shacks lining the road and an abundance of Coke and Pepsi cafes, corner shops all with people sat outside watching passing traffic. The road, hotel and indeed all Arusha is overlooked by Mount Meru (4,565m), an occasionally active volcano with cloud around the top. Mount Kilimanjaro is a 100km beyond only visible on clear days.

Next to a roundabout (sponsored by Coca-Cola) that marks the mid-way point between Cairo in North Africa and Cape Town in South Africa we hop out and are soon swooped upon by local street vendors selling bracelets, maps and prints of local artwork. David takes a hit and shells out $20 for one of the latter. Very quickly reminds me of South America in general where you realise even when people approach you and are overtly friendly and polite its only because in the end they have something to sell and you’re an opportunity to them.

As John leads us through the town of 600,000 the street sellers eventually fall away as we enter the local market – a ragged collection of single people selling their speciality item whether it be onions, garlic, avocado or tomato – all neatly stacked in plastic tubs. The butchers display their meat hanging from the windows and it seems no part goes to waste.

The sun now beating down on us we stop a while under a four pronged arch which is a monument to Tanzania’s independence from British colonisation in 1961 (though John later tells me he has ‘O’ levels from school – a hangover from British education systems). There is a flamed torch atop the monument which every ten years is paraded through Tanzania’s districts like an Olympic torch before being carried to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Poverty is less apparent than expected; a few beggars sitting on the streets – though the buildings are a mixture of shacks with occasional plush glass four storey hotels or office blocks. We don’t feel unsafe even though we stick out as only a small number of white people. There is clearly a lot of subsistence existence evidenced by the fruit sellers selling just one item, and the cottage industries which line the streets from woodwork places to convenience stores.

Demi, our second guide is due to represent his darts club that afternoon so we enthusiastically encourage him to bring us along and he agrees; taking us to the Moonlight bar, a seemingly typical bar with red plastic chairs out the front and poorly lit bar inside. In a covered courtyard out the back we watch the hosts take on the staff from Arusha prison. The competition itself is surprisingly formal with requests for quiet as the players take the oche. There is also a moments silence for one of their players who passed away during the week. After chicken and chips, fresh fruit from the market we leave with the home team 6-1 to the good.

Back at Nejobugg Palace hotel the banter continues over various games of cards that become our staple before, during and after the climb. The staff at the hotel are super friendly but there’s clearly a language issue (mostly our own ignorant fault). Beers takes 45 minutes to arrive. Dinner when ordered will be “30 minutes Sir” yet only turns up an hour and a quarter later. It’s like Fiji time but more so. A phrase we hear a lot on the mountain is “Pole pole” (pohlay pohlay) – Slowly slowly and that seems appropriate for many activities in Tanzania. Dinner, when it turns up, in the restaurant is a sprinkling of protein fried to a crisp washed down with another Kilimanjaro 500ml warmish beer.

The Simba Team, as Demi anointed us soon head to bed excited by the prospect of getting underway tomorrow on our main reason for being here – the trek up Mount Kilimanjaro.