Kilimanjaro - not a bottle of champagne in sight!

I was not always a Grumpy Old Grocer back in the day I was a reckless, devil may care type of grocer and thats how trouble starts............................... now sit back as I take you to a land far away - so far that Majestic is a word that describes mountains and Guiness is drunk warm.

Apart from the Air Tanzania bakewell tart, things were were going far to well. We had all rendezvoused (can that possibly be correct?) on time even JJ.. The traffic flowed on the M25 - well it was a long time ago, our free seats on Air Tanzania were available and the flight took off safely and on time.

The lack of problems added to that awful sense of foreboding that had been with me since that fatefull day in June when I agreed to this foolhardy adventure. "It seemed a good idea at the time" has been one of my most frequently used phrases. It did not apply in this case, it had never seemed a good idea, not even through a mist of cheap Portuguese wine.

At least in those early heady days there was the prospect of boarding the plane as a non smoking, slim, finely honed athlete. As it was I stubbed out my Marlborough, finished my third pint of Harp lager (note the product placement all you PR types) and urged my portly frame to ignore the passenger travelator as my only concession to last minute training.

I knew I was in trouble when the others, except JJ to whom training consisted of drinking high alcohol beers & smoking Camel lights,took me up Snowdon. Jim,Simon,Gareth & Alan, all marathon runners & Donna a very, very fit looking blonde (not sexist purely factual) were a frightening sight as Peter Blakemore & I emerged from my car on a freezing cold September morning. They & Peter did this sort of thing for fun, they had all done it before. Why? This was dafter than golf! What sort of weirdos had I become involved with?

Snowdon was not my cup of tea - that is what is known as understatement, it was only by concentrating on Donna's perfectly formed derriere that I was able to tackle it. They all enjoyed it, but then they don't have my intense fear of heights. 3000 feet was positively life threatening. I was not reassured to learn that Kilimanjaro was over six times as high.

Still if I could finish my Bakewell tart - a mere mountain should be no problem.

"You British are charging Tanzanians £18 to enter your country so we must too" a line that must have worked on many unsuspecting Brits. Indeed even as we were threatening to ring the Tanzanian High Commission, Air Tanzania, British Airways & Mary Whitehouse (it was a long time ago - Google it!) an Indian man on a British passport was handing over the last of his sterling. Our fellow climbers worked at Manchester Airport & were able to repudiate this official's claims however he was too well prepared even for them "Manchester is not in England"

With some help from Air Tanzania we were able to escape the aiport without paying but were pleased that we would be flying back from Nairobi.

By comparison negotiating the transport to our hotel was no problem taking no more than one hour to agree a price followed by 30 minutes to change some travellers cheques. The wad of notes gave us some idea what life must have been like in the Wiemar Republic when you needed a wheelbarrow full of money to buy a loaf of bread. (An idea subsequently adopted by Robert Mugabe!)

Planning permission for Kilimanjaro International Airport was probably not a problem being situated in the middle of nowhere. They had certainly made plenty of provision for pilot error as it was a considerable distance fron Mt Kilimanjaro. Africa's highest mountain rises majestically (see-I told you) from the plains of Africa piercing the clouds with its snow capped peaks. This was not however the first thought of those amongst us that did not regard marathon running & mountain climbing as normal pastimes for the sane!

Once the fear subsided, we were able to adjust to the fact that we were actually in Africa, the safari bus bumped its way along finding every pot hole with uncanny accuracy, we passed numerous Tanzanians waiting by the roadside for nothing in particular. Men & women carried everything on their heads, items of every shape & size. Later we found that our state of the art, ergonomically designed back packs would receive the same treatment. So much for the design centre!

Despite charging like a wounded steer the hotel was devoid of some of the more obvios creature comforts. The specially packed packed complimentary toilet requisites consisted of half a bar of soap & a carton of Ajax scourer.(Under 50's - Google it)

Find out what happens next..............when I get round to finishing this tale of daring in years gone by