CHAPTER 2
Preparing for Kilimanjaro
11 July 2016. It’s two days before we leave for Tanzania and our packing is not even halfway done. Some gear and other supplies are still missing, but Mrs Attention-To-Detail has it all under control because, yes, I’m one of those people who simply thrives under pressure – our impending departure doesn’t stress me at all. I know that all the packing will pretty much be done by me because I’m the one who read all the lists and paperwork relating to the trip, from organising the travel insurance and the gear fittings to the clothing we will need. The only thing I have required Gugs to do is to train, to avail himself for gear fittings and, of course, arrive at the airport in time for our departure for this grand adventure we have been excited about for the longest time.
As we part ways in the morning, each of us heading off to work, I remind him to call his doctor for an appointment to get a script for Diamox altitude sickness tablets. He mumbles a response and I know immediately that I’ll have to call him around midday to remind him again. I have a full day ahead of me, so when I call my doctor I ask for a 18h00 appointment. The day goes by and at some point I text Gugs a reminder to which he doesn’t respond. A few days prior, we had been discussing the side-effects of Diamox and are both uncertain about whether we want to take them. Side-effects include loss of appetite, light-headedness, dizziness, increased urine and changes in the sense of taste. Sounds pretty unpleasant. But I still think we should have them handy in case we need them, so I push Gugs to see his doctor. Late afternoon, as I am heading to my own doctor’s appointment, I call Gugs who is already at home. He tells me that I don’t need to see the doctor because I’m not ill and further reminds me that I have friends who are doctors whom I can simply call and ask for a script. He makes sense, so I call my doctor’s office to cancel and head home instead.
As I get home, to my surprise, I find our daughter Lelethu sleeping and Gugs clearing out and neatly packing our third bedroom, which is starting to look like a messy storeroom filled to the ceiling with his stuff. I had been urging him for months to tidy it and have, in fact, given up asking because my pleas have fallen on deaf ears. Seeing him create order from the chaos, I simply smile and say nothing about his efforts. Instead, I proceed to finish packing our two duffel bags. We go to sleep. In just two days we will be leaving on our dream adventure.
The next morning I notice Gugs has woken with a bit of postnasal drip, which is pretty much the norm in our household. We usually self-medicate ourselves back to health, but I know that he needs a quick check-up ahead of the trip so I suggest he sees the doctor, but leave it up to him. I call one of my doctor friends, who informs me that Diamox is a Schedule 4 drug and that she is unable to write a script. So I quickly call my own doctor again and ask to reschedule another appointment. Knowing that my dearest husband probably won’t make it to his doctor, I ask for a double script. I then head off to a mainstream pharmacy to collect the tablets, but on arrival I’m informed that both Diamox and Azomid (the alternative) are out of stock nationally. At a second mainstream pharmacy they tell me the same thing. What a waste of time! I have run backwards and forwards for scripts and now there is no stock. I then call a private pharmacy and find out they face the same dilemma. Frustrated, I call one of my doctor friends who tells me that my last resort is an in-hospital pharmacy because the drugs are often used for kidney patients. Thankfully, she’s right! The hospital in my area has enough Azomid for our two scripts.
I manage to wrap up all our packing that evening and we have a restful night. First thing in the morning Liyanda, Gugs’s sister, comes over to pick us up and take us to the airport. It’s not easy saying goodbye to Lelethu. She’s completely oblivious to our trip, being too young to understand where we are going. Just three weeks ago we celebrated her first birthday. This is the first time we’re leaving her at home for more than a week. When we leave for the airport she stays home with her nanny but for the duration of our trip, the two of them will alternate living at Gugs’s parents’ and my mom’s houses. Luckily for us, the two parents’ homes are within a five-kilometre radius of our home. Before we leave for the airport, Liyanda snaps our final family photo outside the house.
We have a memorable send-off ceremony at ORT International for our team of 42 climbers. A throng of family and friends is there to see us off. Media interviews create a frenzied buzz, with cameras everywhere. There is even a live crossing on national TV, and the Deputy Minister of Sports is there to see us off. The airport is also filled with a crowd of kids from schools who are beneficiaries of Caring4Girls, the project for which we are climbing. They sing heavenly songs to bid us farewell. It is truly a send-off fit for kings and queens.
The trip from South Africa to Dar es Salaam, with the connecting flight to Kilimanjaro airport and the road trip to our hotel in Marangu, is long and tedious. It takes roughly 10 hours. I’m concerned that Gugs is not his normal, energetic self. In fact, he’s quite sluggish. He sleeps during most of the trip, but I try not to worry too much. I ask him to chat to our team doctor and later that night when we are settling into the hotel, he reassures me he has spoken to her. She’s not concerned. She’s told him that he’s probably just exhausted and should try to get as much rest as possible ahead of the climb. We go to sleep. Our dream adventure is about to happen.
The following morning we wake up at 05h00 and prepare for Day One of the climb from the Marangu Gate to Mandara Hut. The hike is fairly slow and easy, the atmosphere upbeat as we chat to fellow climbers along the way. We have a few celebrities and well-known people in the group. Gerry Elsdon is someone I have quietly admired for years from seeing her on our TV screens. It’s very special having an opportunity to engage with her along the way. We also have a handful of journalists from both print and broadcast. OG Molefe, a sports journalist and friend, plus the legendary Jovial Rantau from The Star newspaper are part of the group. We are also joined by the MD of the Banking Association, Cas Coovadia. Altogether, we’re a group of 42, including expedition leader Sibusiso Vilane, and of course Richard Mabaso, founder of the Imbumba Foundation.
Knowing that Gugs is not feeling great, I walk ahead of him or next to him throughout the day to make sure he takes it easy. Some eight kilometres later we arrive at Mandara Hut and half of us settle into a 20-sleeper dormitory for the night while the rest of the group splits into smaller six sleeper huts. The place is simple and bare, nothing to do there except sleep or rest. The huts are surrounded by lush greenery and a low-hanging mist. It reminds me of a scene straight out of some mystical movie. This is the place where we start having cellphone network issues, the first gentle reminder that we will soon be cut off from the rest of the world.
Again I ask Gugu to check in with the doctor. He reassures me he has and that she has given him the all-clear. The following morning we’re all up early and ready to go, to get cracking on the trek from Mandara to Horombo Hut. It’s a long, slow day. Once out of the rainforest, we are completely exposed to the elements – and the snow peak of Kilimanjaro magically appears. The terrain becomes a lot more rugged, dry and a little challenging. I can’t help but notice that some of our teammates start falling back. I make sure I walk alongside or in front of Gugs again, ensuring that he’s taking it easy. The beauty of being above the clouds seems to inspire new energy in my husband and for the first time on the trip, he becomes animated and more like his usual self. He can’t stop enthusing about how this is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. My heart is filled with joy as I pick up a sense of peace in his demeanour when we reach Horombo. I decide to stop stressing. We settle into a six-sleeper hut with our two training buddies, Fulufhelo Ramulifho and Milly Rehbock, plus Maria-Ines Castro and Cecile Raubenheimer from the USA. I’m glad the girls don’t have an issue with sharing the hut with a married couple.
CHAPTER 3
Acclimatising for Kibo
On Day Three, acclimatisation day, we are split into two groups, a physically fitter group – essentially, the faster one – and a slower, not-so-fit group. It’s decided that the fitter group will depart an hour later than the slower one so that we’ll all arrive at the next base at around the same