Preparations for Africa
I am writing this blog two weeks after returning from my holiday, which was one of my favourite trips away....ever...!
The trip to Kenya and Tanzania was hard work, very exhausting, but ultimately great fun. This has led to an excessive version of the very large problem which often occurs following a great holiday, namely that going back to 'normal life', particularly going back to work, is such a disappointment. Motivation on returning to the office was at an all-time low. Well maybe not an all-time low, I am just thinking of some other times, but certainly pretty low!
My journey as one member of a top team from St Mark's Battersea Rise, was for the purpose of trekking up Kilimanjaro for charity. I'd love to pretend that it was for altruistic purposes that I signed up for the trek, that raising money for charity was the main reason for my travel, but sadly this isn't the case. It was for the challenge of climbing Kilimanjaro that I put my name down - I wanted to complete a special challenge and therefore to have a great story to tell my friends and family. I wanted to be able to tell that same story for years to come. However, the prospect of visiting the baptist church at Mariakani, where so many of the children in the community are sponsored by members of my church in London, was an intriguing element of the overall trip. I certainly wanted to meet some of the children, see the area in which they lived and discover how their lives were in that part of Africa. But the prospect of going to the summit of the world's highest freestanding mountain was the main reason.
So in the few months prior to departure, the majority of my time was spent thinking about the trek. The team, briefly known as 'Team Kili', met for a few meetings beforehand to discuss the trip, to learn about the trek, to find out what equipment we needed to take and, importantly, to bond as a group. There were three training walks during which we attempted to recreate the high-altitude and weather conditions that we could expect on Kilimanjaro by climbing up the mountainous Box Hill in Surrey, the steep and treacherous Guildford downs, and the extremely high Surrey Downs. Unfortunately the UK terrain and climate doesn't lend itself easily to recreate the conditions we were going to experience, but we did have a good time on the walks. The group definitely bonded during these training walks.
The conversations I had with friends and colleagues in the months leading up to the trip all took a similar course, in the following format:
Other Person: "So, you're off to Kilimanjaro soon?"
Me: "That's correct. Make sure you sponsor me on https://challenges.compassionuk.org/profile/311/gary-window . It's for a good cause - to help prevention and control of HIV and AIDS in the areas of Tanzania around the mountain."
OP: "Erm, ok, will certainly check that out. Are you looking forward to it?"
Me: "I am very excited to be going, but also a bit worried, particularly about the altitude sickness."
OP: "Yes, that's understandable. How's the training going?"
Me: "There's not really a lot I can do - England doesn't have any high mountains, ha ha. We've done some training walks among the hills of Surrey."
OP: "Ha, no I suppose not. But you are very fit, what with all those marathons and all the working out you do. You'll be fine with the altitude."
Me: "I've heard that fitness doesn't directly relate to how people cope with altitude sickness. It can affect different people in different ways."
OP: "Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine. Good luck."
<Conversation ends>
The altitude sickness became my major concern in the run up to the trip. I was quite keen not to have to use medication to get to the top, but as the trip got closer, my concerns about the side effects of the medication, and about the achievement of reaching the summit somehow feeling less impressive if I was on tablets, became less important. The rest of the team, along with some of the team who reached the summit four years ago, persuaded me that Diamox was the way to go. So I got a doctor I know fairly well to get me a private prescription. I tested them out a week before departure - I felt the tingling fingers that are one of the side effects, but didn't notice the other main side effect, of needing to pee excessively, being much of a problem.
There was another way I tried to train for the altitude - Becky, one of the team, had been a few times to a place in the city called the Altitude Centre, where you put on a mask to simulate hypoxic (low oxygen) air, so I thought I would give that a go. I signed up and only took a few of the sessions that she was hoping to sign up for! During my first session, I was sitting in the exercise chamber at 3,000m, with the mask on, taking me up to 4,000m, when a lady came into the room for her induction session. She was chatting to the instructor, but then started wobbling from side to side and then collapsed to the floor. I jumped out of my seat and helped the instructor carry the lady out of the chamber. The session up to that point had been going well and my confidence about the altitude had been increasing, so this event certainly knocked that new-found confidence. Fortunately, the lady was ok, and did turn up for an exercise session a few days later. It turned out that she had been feeling unwell in the few days prior to her induction, and hadn't eaten breakfast that day, so the collapse wasn't directly related to the altitude chamber. This event did reinforce the advice we'd been given previously - that to mitigate the effects of altitude sickness, it was important to drink lots (of water) and to eat lots, even if you didn't feel like it.
Other concerns included the freezing temperatures and living in a tent for five nights, so I bought, borrowed and hired various items of equipment, hygiene items and clothing to assist in this. There was a slight panic a few weeks before the trip when my old hiking boots fell apart, as a result of the treacherous conditions around Guildford, which necessitated a visit to the store to get some new ones. I then had to break them in, which meant a walk around the rocky outcrops of Richmond Park and a stroll to work one morning whilst wearing them.
One other last-minute panic was that I had to buy gifts for the young boy I had just started sponsoring in Mata, a five hour drive away from the project we would be visiting in Mariakani. I only heard a couple of weeks before we went away that he would actually be driven to meet us, along with a small number of other children from Mata plus their mothers. The task of buying gifts took a long time to get round to, but I finally achieved this a day or so before we left.
Work was quite busy in the run up to the trip, so I didn't have as much preparation time as I would have liked, but at midnight on the night before we flew out, I finally managed to cram everything (well, most things - I did have to carry an extra Sainsbury's carrier bag with me) I thought I needed, and then I grabbed a few hours' sleep before the early morning taxi arrived.
The trip to Kenya and Tanzania was hard work, very exhausting, but ultimately great fun. This has led to an excessive version of the very large problem which often occurs following a great holiday, namely that going back to 'normal life', particularly going back to work, is such a disappointment. Motivation on returning to the office was at an all-time low. Well maybe not an all-time low, I am just thinking of some other times, but certainly pretty low!
My journey as one member of a top team from St Mark's Battersea Rise, was for the purpose of trekking up Kilimanjaro for charity. I'd love to pretend that it was for altruistic purposes that I signed up for the trek, that raising money for charity was the main reason for my travel, but sadly this isn't the case. It was for the challenge of climbing Kilimanjaro that I put my name down - I wanted to complete a special challenge and therefore to have a great story to tell my friends and family. I wanted to be able to tell that same story for years to come. However, the prospect of visiting the baptist church at Mariakani, where so many of the children in the community are sponsored by members of my church in London, was an intriguing element of the overall trip. I certainly wanted to meet some of the children, see the area in which they lived and discover how their lives were in that part of Africa. But the prospect of going to the summit of the world's highest freestanding mountain was the main reason.
The conversations I had with friends and colleagues in the months leading up to the trip all took a similar course, in the following format:
Other Person: "So, you're off to Kilimanjaro soon?"
Me: "That's correct. Make sure you sponsor me on https://challenges.compassionuk.org/profile/311/gary-window . It's for a good cause - to help prevention and control of HIV and AIDS in the areas of Tanzania around the mountain."
OP: "Erm, ok, will certainly check that out. Are you looking forward to it?"
Me: "I am very excited to be going, but also a bit worried, particularly about the altitude sickness."
OP: "Yes, that's understandable. How's the training going?"
Me: "There's not really a lot I can do - England doesn't have any high mountains, ha ha. We've done some training walks among the hills of Surrey."
OP: "Ha, no I suppose not. But you are very fit, what with all those marathons and all the working out you do. You'll be fine with the altitude."
Me: "I've heard that fitness doesn't directly relate to how people cope with altitude sickness. It can affect different people in different ways."
OP: "Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine. Good luck."
<Conversation ends>
The altitude sickness became my major concern in the run up to the trip. I was quite keen not to have to use medication to get to the top, but as the trip got closer, my concerns about the side effects of the medication, and about the achievement of reaching the summit somehow feeling less impressive if I was on tablets, became less important. The rest of the team, along with some of the team who reached the summit four years ago, persuaded me that Diamox was the way to go. So I got a doctor I know fairly well to get me a private prescription. I tested them out a week before departure - I felt the tingling fingers that are one of the side effects, but didn't notice the other main side effect, of needing to pee excessively, being much of a problem.
There was another way I tried to train for the altitude - Becky, one of the team, had been a few times to a place in the city called the Altitude Centre, where you put on a mask to simulate hypoxic (low oxygen) air, so I thought I would give that a go. I signed up and only took a few of the sessions that she was hoping to sign up for! During my first session, I was sitting in the exercise chamber at 3,000m, with the mask on, taking me up to 4,000m, when a lady came into the room for her induction session. She was chatting to the instructor, but then started wobbling from side to side and then collapsed to the floor. I jumped out of my seat and helped the instructor carry the lady out of the chamber. The session up to that point had been going well and my confidence about the altitude had been increasing, so this event certainly knocked that new-found confidence. Fortunately, the lady was ok, and did turn up for an exercise session a few days later. It turned out that she had been feeling unwell in the few days prior to her induction, and hadn't eaten breakfast that day, so the collapse wasn't directly related to the altitude chamber. This event did reinforce the advice we'd been given previously - that to mitigate the effects of altitude sickness, it was important to drink lots (of water) and to eat lots, even if you didn't feel like it.
Other concerns included the freezing temperatures and living in a tent for five nights, so I bought, borrowed and hired various items of equipment, hygiene items and clothing to assist in this. There was a slight panic a few weeks before the trip when my old hiking boots fell apart, as a result of the treacherous conditions around Guildford, which necessitated a visit to the store to get some new ones. I then had to break them in, which meant a walk around the rocky outcrops of Richmond Park and a stroll to work one morning whilst wearing them.
One other last-minute panic was that I had to buy gifts for the young boy I had just started sponsoring in Mata, a five hour drive away from the project we would be visiting in Mariakani. I only heard a couple of weeks before we went away that he would actually be driven to meet us, along with a small number of other children from Mata plus their mothers. The task of buying gifts took a long time to get round to, but I finally achieved this a day or so before we left.
Work was quite busy in the run up to the trip, so I didn't have as much preparation time as I would have liked, but at midnight on the night before we flew out, I finally managed to cram everything (well, most things - I did have to carry an extra Sainsbury's carrier bag with me) I thought I needed, and then I grabbed a few hours' sleep before the early morning taxi arrived.
posted by Unknown at 10:21 pm
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