What I did on my holidays Part 1

Ok, so technically it wasn't a holiday, I'm just sneaking in a reference to Interesting Times.
Here's a rough account of the first three days of my trek. Yes I know it's been about a month since I've been back so I should've got all this done by now, but it's hard to find time for stuff at the moment.
Hopefully it won't take another month to do the rest.

Fingers crossed anyway :)


Day 1

Technically for me the whole trek started at 17:45 on the Monday when I got the train to Heathrow. For some reason I had to change at Warrington instead of the usual Manchester, but never mind. Then with a little confusion on the tube as to how to get from Euston to Paddington, I caught the Heathrow Express.
I was astonished by the express train as every member of staff seem impeccably turned out and the train itself very clean and neat and there were little tv screens showing news.
However they also showed the prices of £15 for a single 20 minute journey. No wonder they could look nice.
So I got to Heathrow at a little past 11 in the evening. A random wander into the terminal quickly helped me find two fellow trekkers, one of whom was to be my tent mate for a week, David. Bit of an odd coincidence really.
Then Mark from Llandudno Junction, who I'd gone up a mountain with a few weeks earlier, turned up. Slowly but surely more and more people arrived and some slept while the rest of us had endless discussions about training and equipment an how we'd got there.

4:30 rolled around and we saw more trekkers amassing around the check in desk so we picked up our hefty pile of bags and wandered down to meet them. By that point our rep from Marie Curie (Alice) and our two reps from the travel company (Barry and Lucy) so we had people to organise us, which is a good thing a we numbered around 40.

However, the flight crew didn't get out of bed and into position until about 5:30, so our arrival for two hours before check in was fairly pointless. I then met Mitch, who's mum had to drop out of the trek due to ill health (though she's doing it on April 9th instead) and he stepped in. He was the youngest of our group at 19 and was waiting to hear about a university place.

I also met Dionne and Paul briefly. I think Dionne was relieved that while I'm from Wales I was unlikely to speak Welsh to her, as she's from South Wales, but doesn't speak the language. Paul was one of three Pauls, two of which were from Ireland. He was one of the Irish ones, the one not there with his other half.
You following this?

So, after some confusion involving e-tickets, self check-in and where to put your bags when the belt doesn't work we got through check-in, took out boots off for security checks and boarded the plane.

The plane seemed quite nice, which is a good thing as we were on it for quite a while. You see, in order to get to Kilimanjaro we had to transfer at Amsterdam airport. However, this particular morning Amsterdam was shrouded in fog. As such planes couldn't take off and others couldn't come along. it only takes about and hour to fly from Heathrow to Amsterdam and we had an hour and a half in between planes, which sounds like more than enough. However, the time we sat at Heathrow got longer. We started getting information through from the pilot. They could only delay the other connecting plane for so long as it had 270 people on it.

The gate we would arrive at would only be 10 minutes from the gate we would depart from, however it takes longer than that to transfer all our bags in the hold. Time continued to go on, we were given some orange juice, and ultimately told we wouldn't make the connecting flight.

When we got off the plane, however, my glasses must have dropped out of my bag and I sadly lost them. Which was quite annoying as I'd brought three books to read on the trek. Oh well.

Once off the plane we milled around a little aimlessly. The airline were trying to find another flight for us. In the meantime they gave us a five euro voucher for us to get some food or drink and we were told to meet up again in an hour. I went off with Mitch to seek out refreshment. We found a little booth thing and indulged. I got a coke and a chocolate chip cookie. The cookie tasted like a rusk, not the best snack I've ever had.

When we met again, our group was led away to an executive lounge for us to wait in. There were some nice recliner relaxing chairs for us to sit on while we waited. Eventually we were told they'd got us on to another flight the next day. However, they only had limited seats and some of us would have to go to Nairobi. These people were picked out at random, oddly though, both out travel company reps and our Marie Curie rep ended up on the Nairobi flight.

In the mean time we ere taken to a hotel for the night. The hotel looked oddly like a prison on the outside. Inside our room had a double bed with a bunk bed over it. Our group met up for a buffet in the evening, then we all headed for bed.

Day 2

Waking up early we headed back to the airport for a morning breakfast and our check in.
Thankfully the flight was pretty uneventful. I got to watch Casino Royale again and Flushed Away. There were a lot of French people on the flight who weren't particularly considerate to some of my fellow trekkers, but I think I got lucky.

I wasn't so lucky when the flight attendants handed out a card we had to fill in while I was in the toilet. I only realised this when we got out at the airport and everyone was holding a piece of green card. It had details about our passports and where we were going. All stuff we had to fill in for the visas strangely.

I got a card from the man who was checking them and the passports. Sadly, because of me losing my glasses, and the heat, and the tiredness I couldn't focus on the small lettering on the card and I couldn't read it to fill it in. Thankfully I got a fellow trekker to help me out, otherwise I'd have been really stumped.

After negotiating that hazard we then lined up around the dual luggage conveyor belts. Worryingly in transpired that the luggage for two people got lost in the transition from our previous flight. Really not the best start possible.

Leaving the airport we found a few four wheel drive vehicles waiting for us. Bundling out bags and six of us into each we headed of for our hotel. The road was a bit ropey in places and twice we were slowed down by police standing in the road, clearly on the lookout for something.

Once at the hotel, we dropped off our bags and headed to the bar area where Hannah was waiting. Hannah had been in Africa since December and had been waiting at the hotel for our arival for a day or so. We were given some food and the group from Nairobi arrived. Everyone was still pretty tired from two days of travel so it was off to bed. The rooms were fairly basic, the beds were like bits of wood with sheets on them, but even the heat couldn't keep me awake, thankfully.

Day 3

Up bright and early ready to head off on our trek finally.
We met up for some breakfast then convened at the front of the hotel for a variety of 4x4s and a bus idled waiting for us.
I got on the bus (you can see me leaning of the window of it in one of these pictures http://s148.photobucket.com/albums/s40/kilimanjaro2007/?start=all )
I started to wish I'd got in a 4x4.

Unlike the trip from the airport, the trip to the mountain was along some very dubious roads. They were made from a reddish earth and quite riddled with potholes and trenches. The bus was much slower than a 4x4, as evidenced by everyone else overtaking us, despite our bus setting off earlier than anyone else.
Even more concerning was the feeling going round a corner of being very close to tipping the bus over.
Still the slow pace allowed us to enjoy the scenery.

Many of the trekkers were waving and saying hello to the locals as we passed. We got a few different reactions, some looked a bit perplexed, others disdainful, but largely we received cheerful waves and hellos. A lot of the children were clearly wise to the whole tourist trade thing, asking for money or chocolate. You could hardly blame hem.

The buildings we passed in the towns were pretty shabby looking, though the numerous catholic churches we passed seemed better built. I'm pretty sure they had more schools than the density of the population would need mind you. But I suppose in heat like that you'd rather not wander too far to get to school.
I liked seeing shops like the Brilliant Grocery Store and Las Vegas Hair Dressers. We saw a few people baking earth into breeze blocks and of course many places growing bananas. There were fields with swathes of sunflowers in them, again, you can see them in the pictures.

We pulled up at a lovely grassy area. There were a few squat buildings and some decidedly ropey toilets. We sat on a bank and ate the packed lunch we'd been provided with while our porters sorted out all our bags. Because of the size of our group (I think it was 38 trekkers with two reps and two doctors) we had

77 porters and ten guides. The travel company has put a cap on the weight a porter can carry at 15kg, though that didn't include their own equipment. It was pretty clear the porters had no problems with such a measly weight. Not only were they carrying our bags with all our stuff we didn't generally need during

the day (sleeping bags, change of clothes etc) they also carried their own things for the mountain, tents for us all to sleep in, a dining tent we'd take our meals in, food and cooking equipment and lots and lots of water.

While we waited we had a few group photos taken, including one with just the trekkers from Wales, I was quite shocked to get that picture back and see how I towered over my fellow countrymen (and women). It's easy to forget being tall you know. Still, pictures and lunch over and done with it was time to start walking.

The terrain was pretty basic to start off with. It was grassland with a few small trees, it was quite pleasant. We turned onto some dirt tracks where some school children kept pace with us until passing our group and calling encouraging words from further along.

It's probably around this point that I should comment on pace.
Our starting height for the trek was about 1700m. That's about 1 2/3 the height of Snowdon, so soon we were at double the height of Snowdon. Altitude doesn't have the best of effects on the body giving you sickness and fatigue (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altitude_Sickness for more details)
The best thing to do with such a thing is walk slowly. As porters passed us they would tell us polé polé which is Swahilli for slowly. However at this early stage it wasn't too taxing and it was just a gentle stroll.

The foliage eventually got denser as we entered jungle altitudes. Here the path was well maintained and it reminded me an awful lot of the paths through the Welsh Mountain Zoo. Sunlight filtered through the canopy as we trekked through the cool forest. Creepers hung from tree to tree and though I missed them, a few monkeys were spotted by members of our group.

After about four hours of trekking we suddenly emerged at our camp for the night. There was a large clearing surrounded by bushes where the porters hade set up a number of cream and dark green two man tents. We each picked out a tent and put our bags and sleeping stuff away. Through a little archway in one of the larger bushes was another clearing where a large, long tent had been set up for our food.

Also at the campsite were toilets called long drops. These consist of a small wooden shed structure with a hole in the floor inside. Throughout the trek I largely avoided these and opted instead for discreet bushes, especially as one of the long drops had some wasps hanging around in it. The bushes weren't entirely the best of places to go, however, as one female trekkers found out. She'd wandered along the path to find a quiet place when she came across two men with guns. They told her to go back as they were guarding the camp from any wildebeest or leopards that may come along. Sadly we never got to see any of the larger African wildlife.

It soon was time for tea and we headed for the tent. Meal times were similar for each day, we file into the long tent and peer at each other in the gloom, or be blinded by someone's head torch. We sat on small camping stools which rocked unsteadily on the uneven terrain, trying desperately not to kick over the cups on the floor. We were provided with large flasks of tea or hot water and tins of coffee and a substance called Milo. Milo is akin to hot chocolate and became a favourite among our group. Mealtimes would ring with cries of pass the milo as various ends of the tent required the powder.

The meals themselves were astonishingly varied considering the porters were carrying it all up. We had a variety of meats, there was pasta, rice, chips, pancakes, chicken done in a variety of ways, soup every meal and a whole host of others. Until the altitude took my appetite I was thoroughly enjoying the food. We were encouraged to eat lots throughout in addition to drinking at least 3 litres of water a day.

The meal came to an end and we emerged into the darkness outside.

It was a beautiful, clear night. The stars shone brightly in the sky, swirls and clusters visible in the pitch black. I've got to say, without light pollution the night sky is a lot nicer. We stood gazing up for some time before we climbed wearily into our sleeping bags ready for the next day.

Time Flies When You're Not Paying Attention

So, if you're reading this you may have noticed a certain lack in consistency. However if you are reading this then I'm surprised as the only comments I've had have been from some kind of automatic commenting thing that offers me the chance to earn huge amounts of money by doing nothing.

Anyway, my usual excuses of work and life and training have diverted me from updating this as I had planned. I might finish my bus stories at some point. It was nice doing stories which intertwined though possibly more time and the ability to edit them all together might help.

But this is supposed to be about my training and stuff so here we go:

Today I bought my boots for walking. They're quite comfortable so far, but I've not walked too far in them. They do make me feel a little Herman Munsterish however. Wearing the boots is one of the I've felt particularly tall. Of course I am actually tall (6 foot 4ish) but being a day to day height I'm used to it, adding an inch or two to my feet has made me feel somewhat towering. I feel sorry for anyone short trekking with me as I expect they'll have enough with the mountain looming over them without me adding to it.

I had an interview with the North Wales Weekly News, strangely by someone who knew my dad and her daughter was friends with my sister. Spooky.
Anyway I should be in this week's issue, if you've followed the link in the paper then, hello!

As for training, it continues, I have started carrying some of the weight I'll have with me on the trek on my walks to work. Strangely 4 litres of water didn't slow me down at all. Which is a good sign.
Tomorrow we resume football again after the Christmas hiatus. I will be wearing my trainers for the football despite the obvious advantages in tackling my new boots would have...

If anything else exciting crosses my mind I'll pop it on here. Well hopefully anyway.

Oh and it's my birthday on Monday (15th) I will be the ripe old age of 28 which is 4x7, though I doubt that has any particular significance.

Christmas Story 5 of 12

It’s a really odd thing to be in the witness protection program.
You have to uproot your whole life. Move to a different part of the country, take on a new job, a new identity. Everything changes.
I’m not really keen on the changes it’s brought me.
I’ve had to take on the persona of a business guy. Now, that doesn’t sound so bad. Wear a suit, go to work, hang around the office, have a laugh, go home. No problem right?
Except the undercover people who gave me this identity also specified some details that I’d rather not have, which is why I saw sat on the bus and loudly talking into my phone.
"So we'll ship out ten thou of them? That's great. Should see some real turn around on sales."
I felt like such an arsehole.
Why would anyone need to speak like that? Who would care what I’m telling some random person on the other end of the phone? If I’m so important why am I on the bus and not in a fancy company car?
But I had to give up the illusion.
It all started four months ago. I was a nothing really. My job was menial, I didn’t really make a huge impact on the world. But I was a nice guy.
I did good deeds, I raised money for charity. I wasn’t anything special, but I did little things to make the world nicer.
Then one night I was at work late for some reason or other and I overheard some voices. They were discussing some things which didn’t make sense. Interdimensional thingys and stuff that sounds like it’s from Star Trek.
But then they started discussing theft and murder and their plans involved both. I figured that was not a good thing and went to see the police. I figured they wouldn’t believe me since there was all the crazy stuff to begin with.
After waiting about an hour this detective came in and said we had to move quickly. Within three hours I found myself in a daze and in a limo. They told me who I had to be from now on, how I had to act, where I’d be living. I’d overheard something big and I should be worried for my life.
Still they said they were sending someone out to sort it all. Some ‘expert’. They say she used to be the best.
But until then, until some Olive fixes whatever project Arturis is about.
Until then I’m stuck as some jerk in a suit shouting in a phone, posturing to compensate for some hole in my soul.
I don’t feel safe, but I’m doing my best.
As I get off the bus I help this old lady down, she smiles real nice at me.
I may not be able to live out my life, but I can still do some things as I used to.
Strangely when I turned round the old lady had gone, I shivered in the cold wind.
I guess weird things happen wherever you go. 

Christmas Story 4 of 12

My legs really hurt these days.
It’s a tricky life being an old superhero.
Well super heroine really, but it’s hard to use that term these days without people thinking you’ve got a new drug.
I often sit on this bus thinking about the ‘glory’ days. Back when I wasn’t wrinkled and gnarled.
I even had a fling with Superman once. A lovely dinner in some expensive restaurant, followed by a moonlit flight over the sea.
Funny how he never aged, I guess being an alien really works out well for him.
To look at me now you’d be surprised if I made it across the road without having to take a breather in the middle.
But still, I can’t grumble, I’ve done some amazing things in my life.
There are few people that can say they’ve flown into a volcano. Well few people who have done that and lived.
I’ve been at the pinnacle of Everest and the depths of the ocean. I’ve stopped so much destruction and saved so many lives.
For the most part I did it in secret. One or two people learned of what I could do, but that rarely ended well. If they didn’t die, they turned bad. I still don’t know which is worse.
But that’s not to say I’m useless now.
I have no problems opening jars. I’m suspiciously quick when I’m in the supermarket. You won’t find me saying “What? Can you speak up dearie?”
There are perks to being an old superhero.
For instance, I can see the ghost on this bus.
She seems quite sad.
I’d like to talk to her and help her out, but I have my own stuff to do.
It’s an odd thing to be asked out of retirement, especially at this time of year.
But I guess it’s exactly because it’s this time of year I’m needed.
I remember the Nazis having a go at the Arturis project in the 30s. They didn’t know what they were doing any more than these guys know now.
Still, anything to save Christmas and be a heroine again.
I gave the young man who helped me off the bus, a smile.
As the bus pulls away I accelerate to a reasonable fraction of light speed and head towards my target.
My legs still hurt though. 

Christmas Story 3 of 12

I pushed Gareth’s buggy onto the bus and paid for my ticket.
The bus wasn’t as packed as it usually is so I had no problem getting a seat and a space for Gareth.
Looking around the bus I saw a few faces I recognised. The woman on the phone always seemed quite relaxed, especially compared the guy who smelled funny and muttered to himself. Gareth doesn’t like him at all.
“I see El-Stinko is on the bus today.”
“Ssshhh Gareth! Not so loud.”
“Well excuse me. I thought we had a free speech in this country.”
Gareth is, as you might have guessed, an unusual baby. You’ve probably met people that even when young seem to have been born old? Well Gareth has the mind of a dirty 40 year old and weirdly the vocabulary too.
Gareth’s role model seems to be Baby Herman from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? I refuse to give him a cigar however, he may be a foul mouthed vile one year old, but I’ve got to draw the line at some point.
“There may be free speech, but there’s also politeness, Gareth.”
“Yak yak yak. Hey, the broad on the phone’s hot!”
“Oh, pipe down little man. It’s not like you can do anything about it.”
“Don’t remind me. You wouldn’t believe the looks I get in strip joints.”
I had to laugh at that.
“Yeah, I can just imagine you now, jumping up and down at the bar hoping to be seen.”
“Hey don’t knock my stature, it gives me a great view of some things, thank you very much.”
“Ewww, Gareth.”
“What? I didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“You know what you should get, one of those man suits.”
“What man suits?”
“You know, like in Pinky and the Brain.”
“Oh yeah, big robot body, teeny little mouse head.”
“Or in your case, teeny little baby head.”
"My head’s big enough thank you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I never figure how people are convinced by that, who knows a guy with a normal body and a tiny head?”
“It’s called comedy, for a baby you’re way too critical of cartoons.”
“I can never be too critical of cartoons. Anyway, I’d like for us to get off at the next stop. It’s a bit chilly on this bus. And I don’t like the idea of that ghost touching me.”
“Ok, we’re nearly home anyway.” I hesitated. “What ghost?”
“Never mind woman, you never pay attention to anything I say.”
I pushed the buggy off the bus into the cold air.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

Christmas story 2 of 12

Guy was, by most definitions, a little bit odd.
People didn’t seem to like spending time with him. It may have been his odd smell, or his random twitching, or just the way he persistently muttered to himself.
On the plus side when he got on the bus, as he did now, he usually had a seat all to himself.
While Guy didn’t mind not having what might be called friends, he did mind that no one took him seriously.
It was especially worrisome to him now, so close to Christmas. It would all happen soon and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to do anything about it.
Looking around the bus he saw his friend Russell.
He tried to catch his attention but Russell was making a phone call and looked quite stressed.
Guy sighed. It was hard knowing stuff you couldn’t share with anyone, mainly because they thought you were completely nuts if you told them it.
They called it project Arturis but Guy knew better than that. The boundary between reality was very weak this time of year and what they were letting through may resemble Santa but was nothing of the sort.
Guy was very concerned by the thought of a big red and white interdimensional creature coming down his chimney in the middle of the night. Especially as he didn’t have a chimney.
Most would think that worrying about a Santa like creature breaking into your house is a pointless endeavour, Guy had been concerned about it ever since his Halloween incident.
Being plagued by supernatural occurrences seems to have been an off shoot of the ‘industrial accident’ Guy suffered.
Guy wished he was like other people and didn’t notice the strange things that went on around him all the time. The fearful things he saw every waking moment were what caused him to smell so bad. The constant mutterings were his way of warding off any attack.
The bus came to a stop and a woman got on. Guy hadn’t noticed Russell get one, but he noticed the woman. She was Laura and she worked on project Arturis.
Guy kept his head down and carried on his protective chants. He didn’t know exactly how much they knew. Nor really what he could do that would make them worry anyway.
Guy shivered as an unexpected cold burst made him shiver.
He blinked twice and felt a strange lightness in his head.
The worries and concerns Guy had were gone.
They had evaporated like steam. He no longer worried about any of the supernatural creatures that may or may not exist, and felt for the first time in a long time that a bath would really help.
The bus pulled up at his stop and he got off, feeling a lot better about himself. 

Christmas story 1 of 12

Today I walked to work for a team meeting, took two hours. Played football for an hour in the evening. I continue to be not very good at football and I've hurt my ankle, but it was fun and I hope we do it regularly.
We got beaten 5-0 by people who are more used to running around and kicking balls in the right places.

So here's the first of my 12 stories, set on the number 12 bus I get regularly. They are not in chronological order so you may have to think a little :)
13th one on Christmas Day, despite me saying first of my 12.
Tsk.


"Hello?"

"Hello...?"

It was her voicemail. I didn't know whether to leave a message or not. It was hard enough getting on the bus and showing the driver my pass without thinking of a good message to leave.

I was just sitting down when the message ended and I shivered, I wondered if the window was open or something, but I decided to leave a message anyway.

"Hi, it's Laura, I'm wondering where you are, I waited for you but I'm guessing I missed you. I've just been round town but I've got to head home now. Give me a call when you get this so I know what time you're coming round tonight. Bye!"

I looked around the bus as I pondered what had happened to her. There was a woman with her baby, she was laughing at something, I guess she was entertaining the kid. Just behind me was a weird looking guy who seemed to be muttering to himself.

I decided to ring around and see what had happened to Rebecca, it wasn't like her to disappear.

I rang Barry first.

"Hi, have you heard from Rebecca at all?"

"No, not seen her since lunch."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She went off to deal with some sort of containment leak then I had to go and deal with project arturis again."

"Again? I thought they'd sorted that out?"

"Nah, it's still giving off that interdimensional goop."

"I'm fairly sure goop isn't the scientific name for it."

"It is. Me and Gavin defined it last Thursday. That's the handy thing about discovering something, you can name it what you like."

"Until your performance review."

"Nothing to worry about there, Simon's not due back planetside for another four months."

"Lucky you. Well I'm going to see if anyone else has seen her. Do you have Hubert's number?"

"Hubert? He doesn't speak to girls."

"He does if you're nice to him and I am."

"Ok then, but you can only contact him through pathic-phone, epsilon sigma phi."

"Cheers, see you next week. Bye"

It's pretty weird to work in special research, even weirder to get the bus when you work for it. But I figure it keeps me grounded, with the crazy stuff I see every day it's good to know there are normal people out there.

The odd guy that muttered to himself had gone and a businessman had got on instead. He was chatting really loudly on his mobile; "So we'll ship out ten thou of them? That's great. Should see some real turn around on sales."

I don't get why people have to talk so loud. It seems the less important their actual work is, the louder they get. I once did a study on it and created a mathematical model to show that. Pan dimensinal computers really helped me out.

Speaking of computers, I'd best call Hubert. I swicthed my Nokia to the telepathic mode and dialled.

It helped to keep the phone by my ear to give the illusion of actually speaking through the phone. I've learned just sitting on the bus thinking looks a bit odd.

Hi Hubert.

Oh hi Laura.

How are you?

Not too bad really. I'm thinking of going for an upgrade soon.

You sure? You already have more processing power than you know what to do with.

Yeah, but those Intel guys are catching up with me.

Fair enough. Have you seen Rebecca?

Yes.

I sighed, Hubert could be very literal if he didn't feel like being helpful.

Have you seen her today since lunch?

No.

Ok. Sorry to have bothered you.

You didn't bother me don't worry.

I won't, bye.

I sighed, another dead end, I was starting to worry about Rebecca, who knows what had happened to her. But it was time to get off the bus as I was nearly home. I pressed the button to stop the bus just as my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Rebecca. Did you want me?"

"Rebecca! Good to hear from you, where've you been? I've been worried."

"Oh, I got caught in a stasis bubble, would've been stuck there all night if the cleaner hadn't spotted me. We still on for tonight?"

The bus had stopped and I headed to the door.

"Yeah, I've got some plans for my hair, I hope you're prepared to experiment..."

I stepped off the bus and headed home. 

The Road To Hell...

Is paved with good intentions, or frozen salespeople if you believe Terry Pratchett.

This is the third time I've written this, so if at any point it seems I'm just trying to rattle through information without any thought to making it entertaining, you're probably right. It's annoying when stuff loses what you've typed in a magical and bewlidering way, so I've resorted to writing this in Notepad then copying and pasting.

Anyway, I intended to keep this up to date and all, but it turn out when you're walking and working as much as you can and trying to raise money, you end up tired and disinclined towards typing on the internet.

But hopefully I'll be more dilligent now. If you see below you'll realise I'll have to update at least once a day til Christmas. Intrigued? Well don't go reading ahead, you'll get there soon enough.

So, my training? I've been continuing to walk to work and back from it, when time and energy allow. I've alos been walking round the Orme, which now takes me just an hour from North Shore to West Shore, which gives me a speed of 4 1/2 miles an hour or possibly 4 1/4 I forgot what it said on the information point. But that's pretty good considering the up and down or Marine Drive.

I'll try tackling it from West to North soon as the incline makes it harder that way.

Ian from work has offered to help me with my training. He ex army so I expect to be put through my paces. Also he drives so that'll be a big help in getting me to the bigger mountains round here. With any luck he'll be free this weekend and we'll be off to get wet and cold in amongst some grass.

Additionally, tomorrow I'll be attempting to play football with random people from work and friends of work people. Happily I am certainly fitter than some of the people that will be attending so that may just make up for my inability to kick the ball in the right direction.

My fund raising is going worryingly slowly and I expect I'll have to give it some attention if I expect to have some chance of reaching my target. If you'd like to help get over to www.justgiving.com/johnredwards and give all your life's savings. Go on.

Unless you've not saved anything, then try and find something to donate.

I've got a podcast up on iTunes. Go and search for Kilimanjaro Trek For Marie Curie Cancer Care and you should find it. Only one episode so far, for the same reasons there's only two posts here. But again I'll do another one soon.

As for keeping this up to date. Well tomorrow will see 12 days to Christmas. As anyone who gets a Christmas card from me will know, I put a little story in the cards as a seasonal incentive not to have boring cards. This year I'll do 12 stories one a day on here, which will also get into people's cards. Then a 13th one on Christmas Day. If I do it right the stories should be interlinked in a wonderful and magical way that'll please anyone who likes that sort of thing.

If I do it wrong it'll look a bit messy.

Since I've not written one yet I may feel the pressure Dickens must have when he was serialising his stories back in the day. There's no going back and editing to put in something I'll need later.

So fingers crossed...

 (I've noticed my post subjects have thus far been both relating to roads and song lyrics, can I think of any more? Maybe...)

The long and possibly winding road

So, here I am with my first post.
This may prove to be an interesting account of me working out how to get fit enough to go up Kilimanjaro without bits of me dropping off.
Or it may just be a random collection of me remembering stuff.

I dunno.

Next year, in March, I will be going up Kilimanjaro in aid of Marie Curie Cancer Care. For those of you who don't know where Kilimanjaro is, it's in Tanzania. For those of you who don't know where Tanzania is, it's just on the east and around the middle of Africa. For those of you who don't know where Africa is, you'd best stop using the computer and go and lie down.

I'm doing this in the memory of my dad who died 6 years ago from cancer. He was a big fan of taking us to the middle of nowhere to look at something that usually wasn't that interesting, but it's the journey that counts, or something. He never took us up a mountain that's 5,896m high, or at least not to my recollection, but as long as there are tracks with grass growing up the middle of them, I'll be on familiar territory.

Naturally in order to get up this hulking mound of rock I should be at least capable of moving up a slight slope without collapsing. While I am one who sits around playing games and watching TV while eating chocolate and biscuits I also have a tendency to walk wherever I can.
Part of this is my inability to drive and the rest is because I do enjoy a good walk.

However, age is creeping up on me and belly isn't quite as non wobbly as it once was. I was never that keen on PE when I was in school, so I have some way to go before I can comfortably say I'm ready to leg it up nearly 4000 metres of rough terrain.

So, here I will tell of my exciting escapades and trials in trying to get fit for this. And hopefully I'll post how the trek went. If I'm really lucky I'll figure out someway of updating this while I'm halfway up the mountain, but don't hold your breath for that.

If I'm really organised I'll try and post maps of where I've walked to show just how well I'm doing.

If I'm not, well, you'll have to use your imagination...

John

www.justgiving.com/johnredwards