Machame to Shira

Strange going from balmy 20° nights to 0° in the space of a day. The 2am dash for relief was becoming torture; with every mouthful of water I weighed the consequences.

Sade, our waiter, brought hot water and breakfast — sweet millet porridge, omelette, a sweet pancake, and beans. The food throughout was excellent, full of flavour and high in calories. It was a difficult trek up to the second camp but the sun was out, and to the north we could see Mt Meru as we climbed. What we didn't know at the time was that this was practically the last sun we'd see for the rest of our days on the mountain. Bad weather was rolling in.

Spirits were high. Kelly led the charge with Gerry, while Chris and I came up behind with Bobby playing reggae for us — until some cheerless climber from another group complained. Our core group was completed by Nathan, Godson and Jacob, plus Kush, another guide. Traffic was the main problem: the Magumu race ahead of their clients to grab the best camping spots, and on the mountain porters always have right of way. You have to constantly be aware of who's coming up behind you.

We walked about seven hours, and as we neared the top of the ridge the weather caught us by surprise. It's quite a sight — a hundred climbers all scurrying to pull on rain gear at once, and revealing in the process who hadn't thought about where they packed it. Nothing really dries at elevation, so good luck to them. We reached camp just as it was getting dark, tired, cold, and I was starting to feel the first whisper of altitude — a mild headache forming behind the eyes.