Achievement!

How do I describe it? Eyes closed, view of the summit sign in my head, lllooonnnngggg sllloooowwww inhale with a curling grin that the Cheshire cat would be jealous of, and a slow, savoury exhale= perma grin.Wow. Amazing. And not wow and amazing like you use the terms everyday. Properly wow. Properly amazing! And not the view, either (although it was incredible, but to expectations). Purely the sense of achievement from getting to the top.

How did it unfold? This is going to take a while, so I apologise in advance. The recount will be rather more specifics from the "notes" I took in comparison to the opener. I will post another entry on some technical kit specifics later. So here we go:.

July 5th- Travel Day: See Craig out in the AM and pack. Why the heck haven't I packed everything the night before (was feeling a bit despondent)? Packing always takes longer than expected. Thank goodness it was only one bag. Savour the last power shower I know I am going to have in 18 days.

Gear up and go. This is the first trek-test with the backpack and shoulder duffel combination- the usually-12 minute walk to the train station, took closer to 20. No dead-arm, so this is going to work. I left the house 20 minutes later than I had hoped, missed the train I had aimed to catch, thus got into New Street later than hoped. Nearly got on the wrong train so truly had to book it with my backpack/duffel combo up the stairs against pedestrian traffic to catch the correct train. Note to self... it is possible to run if absolutely necessary. Get on the train and big breath out. I'm on holidays.Why the heck have I started off this holiday off so terribly?! I'm usually far more organised than this. C'est la vie! Thank goodness for my travel partner for holding the check-in desk. And, big breath out. It's time.

Flights as expected, other than the unexpected passenger load from Istanbul to Dar es Salaam, where we were certainly not the minority. A fleeting thought that we aren't on the right flight. Check the ticket. We are :) And how fun that Turkish Airlines have menus for each flight. I can definitely recommend flying with them in the future. The food was very delicious.

July 6th- Arrivals: Bags made it and into the taxi. Stayed at the Transit Hotel in Dar which is very near to the airport. It says a 5$ taxi ride, but at 3am in unknown territory, it wasn't the time to start sharpening my bartering skills. FYI: you can apply for a holiday visa upon arrival into Dar if you are prepared to wait for about an hour in the immigration queue. Again, at 3 am, I was glad to have done my homework, even if it was more expensive (later on we met a guy that said he only paid 15$ (by accident)) and I temporarily lost my documents. Got to the hotel and crashed out until later in the AM. Welcome to Africa- your wake up call will be from the chickens/rooster and the screaming cats.

The rest of the 6th was spent meandering the streets of Dar with a late night flight to Kilimanjaro Airport. I will save the details for another entry. This blog is about getting to the top.

July 7th- Moshi. Find a company: With a lovely turkey and screaming dog wake-up call, it was time to start the dream. We were introduced to TFT (Tanzanian Flexible Time) with our breakfast order- 45 minutes for two orders or muesli and one order of scrambled eggs.

A 30 minute walk into town enchanted us with our first "local friend". Hello friend, you here for vacation? You going to climb the mountain? And maybe it was serendipitous or perhaps we were far too polite, but we ended up at a travel agent. A quick check of the pre-list... it wasn't there, so with some scepticism, we met the boss and listened to what he had to say. We were at African Spoonbill Tours and the package seemed to be exactly what we were looking for with an excellent price (even with the rise in park fees and in comparison to other companies)- 7-day tour, up and down acclimatisation, everything included... can this be too good to be true? We need a sign. We had a quick team meeting out of the office (as scientists and an engineer we were keen to gather more data) to walk back and see a man that we had seen in the AM at our hostel. Um, yup- a sign. Some quick conversation in German assured that we were in good hands. The man from the AM said he had already searched around the area and this company was the best, so we booked.

Pius, the director of African Spoonbill Tours, called our guide Bakari to the office to discuss some further details and so we could test him with questions we might have. So far so good. We were booked to start our 7-day Machame route trek in the morning. It's really, really happening!! 

July 8th- Go time! With an understanding of TFT, we rose for breakfast as early as possible- three muesli shouldn't take longer than two and a scrambled egg. Wrong. They didn't tell us there was no yoghurt, so we essentially waited for them to go to the shop in town to buy some while Pius waited for us to finish our breakfast before driving us back to the office.

And I haven't seen such a collaborative effort since working load-outs in Japan. Each porter lifting, loading, securing the equipment and our bags on the top of a 12-seater Toyota. All in the back and let's go. Twenty minutes later, we stopped for "final shopping". Really the most over-priced peanuts I had ever paid for... deep breath, it's supporting the local economy (hopefully). About another 20 minutes later, we stopped once more for final shopping for the crew... local fruits, veg, and meat for the trip from the sweaty, fly ridden, local butcher stall. I think I might have just thrown up a little bit in my mouth... oh no, that was later at the actual market in Moshi. This stop was just a jaw drop.

We get to Machame gate (1800m), eat some lunch, take some pictures, while our guide Bakari sorts out the paperwork and the weight of the bags for the porters. It's all very well organised- we sign in at each station (although in ink on paper). And we are off... although, with our other guide, George. Bakari eventually catches us up 2.5 hours later. We don't walk too quickly, and they aren't yet telling us to slow down.

Packed lunch Day 1: Hamburger, two bananas, a muffin, and some cold fried chicken on the bone. I manage everything apart from the chicken.

The vegetation is lush. We are in rainforest territory at the start. We stop for food and drinks along the way, which the porters plow on ahead with large bags on their back and baskets on their heads. George is mindful of us and how we are doing. So far so good... until my tummy starts rumbling. Nice. Was it the combination of seeing the butcher/ cold fried chicken for lunch or is it something else? Not what I wanted on Day 1.

We are trekking up to Machame Camp at 3000m, check in at the main hut where the landscape has changed to an alpine heather forest, and settle into our dining tent. Yes, a dining tent! There is a spread of popcorn and all of the different powdered hot beverages you might want. Oh, and before the wonder of the dining tent, we are treated with a bowl of hot water for washing- clean face= new lady! After our snack, we have a browse around and unpack while we wait for dinner.

The campsite is nice. It's what I call a campsite with trees and alcoves. Not a pitch-your-tent-in-the-middle-of-a farmer's-field campsite. The mooch about gives a sense of how many people have embarked on this trek and these faces start to become familiar in the next few days. You can see some of the more expensive tours have better quality tents and chairs with backs on them. Apart from that, it all looks about the same. We go back to the camp for our dinner, where our waiter Mbago brings us cucumber soup and bread for starters, and a large platter of roasted potatoes, the beef from the butcher (wretch), and veg-e-ta-ble sauce (:P) for the main. At this point my stomach starts to spasm- is this my subconscious telling me not to eat the beef or is is the altitude? I force two bowls of food down and we go to our tents to sleep. A quick glance to the stars turns into a mind opened full of wonder- so many stars I've never seen in my life. And I'm smiling again thinking about it.

July 9th- Day 2: Machame Camp (3000m) to Shira Camp (3840m). It's a 7:00am wake up call, but I'm up at 6:30 (even earlier for loo- the porters are creating a hubub at 5:30am). We are treated again to another bowl of hot water for washing. We have breakfast for us at about 7:30 am: fried eggs, mini-sausages, and a stack of toast. The thought of eggs the morning has put me off completely, so I crack into the peanut butter and jam to eat two slices and the fruit they provide.

We've been briefed that today is an easy day because it is only a 3-4 hour trek (and apparently 7km). Oh god, it was everything other than an easy day. Steeper than the day before and with a bad belly, the day was hard.. The term pole pole (pole-ay) came out from our guides George and Bakari- slowly slowly. It's really one step in front of the other. Think about what you are doing. Pay attention to your body.

I developed a headache the last hour of the trek, and wasn't feeling so hot when we arrived at camp for our popcorn and peanut snack. Didn't take anything to relieve it and hoped to sleep it off in the evening. After snack time while they made our dinner, we did an acclimatisation walk where we walked up and beyond the Shira caves (about 100m more and almost an hour of walking). It was good to move again. When I was moving, my belly nor head was hurting. When we stop, then I feel rubbish.

Back down to camp for some dinner and for perhaps for the first time ever, my brain was completely disinterested in food. I expected this to happen, but was hoping that it would come Day 4 or 5... not Day 2! Pumpkin soup (tasted very akin to the cucumber soup from the night before), rice, wild spinach, onion, curried vegetables, and onion pancakes. With lots of effort, I mustered two bowls of soup, one whole onion pancake, and a full bowl of rice and veg. Dinner-time mantra: food is friend not fiend. Went to bed at 8pm with a stinking headache and cramping stomach. I have doubts. It's only Day 2. I'm disappointed in myself. I tell myself to sleep it off, you'll be okay in the AM and then there are two less days until the top. I sleep until 6am (of course, with some loo breaks in the night).

July 10th- Day 3: Shira Camp (3840m) - Barranco Camp (3950m) 10km and the Lava Tower. Oh goodness, my head hurts. I don't get headaches very often, so maybe I'm not so capable of dealing with head pain, but this is not nice. I have to slowly turn my head otherwise it feels like my brain is going to explode. Pole pole. I know that I can't deal the day with this so discuss with Cathy which drugs to take. We vote on Aspirin (rather than the Paracetamol or Ibuprofen that I brought), and as if by magic, I feel amazingly relieved (and actually amazing in context to how I was just feeling).

We were advised that today would be colder than the previous two days, so put your pants on. I geared up with winter running tights, wool socks, tank top, thin longsleeve, and a puffy vest. About two hours into the trek, our guide George advised me to put my toque on instead of my bandana because we were going somewhere windy and it would prevent headaches. Two hours in I can say the Aspirin was still working.

The trek itself was less steep, but longer. I felt that this day was far easier than the previous; my compatriots will both negate that thought. We hiked up to a mass called Lava Tower "a 300-foot lava formation jutting from the mountainside". One of the first formations from when the volcano blew. I can say that our guides were very knowledgeable about the flora, peaks, area, and history throughout the trek (if that's something you are interested in or have the brain power to remember- I'm cheating off of the website at the moment as my main concern was finding a rock big enough to hide behind every couple of hours).

We stop at Lava Tower for packed lunch. Our lunch looks exactly the same as any other groups', rather ours is in plastic bags vs. a plastic Tupperware box. Another piece of fried chicken leg, boiled egg, mango juice box, orange (green oranges), mini banana, custard cream cookies, and some sort of french-toast sandwich thing. Chicken and eggs are revolting to me at the moment, so I muster down all of the carbohydrates and a mini Snickers that I have brought with me. After lunch, we hike another 1.5 hours to our camp and as we come down, I start to come down off of the Aspirin and develop slight pressure in my head again. I try two Paracetamol at camp to see how that works in the night. It doesn't.

"As usual" (Bakari's reassuring words of comfort), we are treated to hot water for washing, popcorn, and a nap before dinner. A dinner of zucchini soup, beef stew (wretch), noodles (thank God!), and sautéed green beans, carrot, and tomatoes. We've been able to have a philosophical discussion about why women wear make-up and relationships before tooth-brushing stargazing and then bed at 8pm. I have hope today. I can get through this... that is if I can navigate myself back to the tent at about 3am. Note to self: keep your glasses next to the toilet paper.

July 11th- Day 4: Barranco Camp (3950m) - Karanga Valley (4200m) 7km and the "Breakfast Wall". "As usual": hot water for washing with a 7:30 wake up call and breakfast; and "as usual", my brain wants to jump out of my head. Oh, but wait... not as usual, I'm a bit dizzy coming back from the loo (and not from the Bob Marley cigarettes that some of the porters were smoking from another tour group-really!). I start a new "as usual" and up my Aspirin dose to three. Food is still fiend not friend, and pole pole I choke down two peanut butter and jam toasts with hot water and honey.

The Breakfast Wall is fantastic (can you get high on Aspirin? Or maybe it's an Aspirin/ altitude combo)! This is the most fun we've had yet. A proper scramble up the rocks. It's an excellent test of the fitness-and-wits combination. I'd like to think that if this was a super challenge, the chances of summitting would be really low... I'm sure they are proportionately related. We talk about the scramble as we go, and George tells us that this route is the most challenging which is why it is called the Whiskey Route over the easier Marangu (Coca-Cola route).

We go up for about two hours and then a combination of down and up for the next hour. At the third hour, we can see the camp for the night and it looks like a straightforward hike to get there. Wrong.You can't see the big scramble back down into the valley (and checking back on the website, it's Karanga Valley) and an uphill plod back up to camp for a hot lunch. I don't have pictures of the Karanga Valley, but the vegetation was something else: a combination of tropical looking pineapple trees and bushy lichens and mosses. Something out of another world.

After a hot lunch and a snooze (and a chance for my stomach to start spasm-ing again), we go for a one hour acclimatisation hike back up to a more rocky terrain at 4200m. I've worked out by now that when I'm moving I feel good and capable. My legs don't substantially tire (of course a little bit, but recovery is quick when we stop for a water or "technical" break) and continuously feel strong. I tell myself to pay attention to the strength in my legs and this will let me know my limits. Heaven knows if I paid attention to my head or stomach, I would have gone back two days ago. And besides, each hour up brings the summit a little bit closer and a little bit more real. Tonight I take one more Aspirin before bed to help me sleep and go to bed thinking that we only have ten hours of walking left. Big deep breath: this breath still has hope, eagerness, and a little bit of a headache. I've decided to visualise myself at the top to make it more real. Any time I'm feeling doubtful, I picture myself next to the sign. I can really see it. I know I can do it.

Camp and view of the top: Day 4

Day 4 Dinner: Fried onions and bean sprouts, rice, and "as usual" some sort of soup and vegetable curry.

July 12th- Day 5: Karanga Valley (4200m) - Barafu Camp (4600m). The 6km short walk before the summit . Wake up as usual (I went back to two Aspirin in the morning because realised that we didn't have enough for everyone for "just in case" if I kept on the way I was going) and the trek is meant to be similar again to the Breakfast Wall day- 4 hours of go, go, go (but pole pole) to camp with hot lunch and rest. The hiking itself was in-between a scramble and a steep-ish plod. We are now completely in rock country, so stopping for technical breaks gives us the challenge of finding a cluster of rocks that are enough out of view. 

Day 5: Mawenzi Peak

Day 5: Hot lunch of vegetable stew

As we get to camp, the two Aspirin were clearly not enough and the Paracetamol didn't work the other day, so I opt for two Ibuprofen to help me sleep after lunch and through to dinner. And not "as usual" there is no new water at the camp, so all the water available has been schlepped up by the porters and is only for consumption- no hot water for washing. And I am annoyed with myself because on possibly the most important note-taking day, my brain doesn't want to play, so my notes stop after lunch. I knew it at the time I would kick myself for that. In any case, I can now sigh with head relief as the Ibuprofen has kicked in. Nap time!

After our nap, we wake for another 45 minute acclimatisation trek, and am welcome that we do as this is the first part of the final trek and part of the face is a bit tricky- a bit steep with a quite smooth rock face. For me it was more of a "get it in your brain where you will be walking" hike than an acclimatisation walk. Either way, it was good to do. Back for dinner and then off to bed at about 6pm for our 11:30pm wake up call.

Barafu Camp

What I can say (and remember) about the trek until now is that the guides Bakari and George were so helpful and knowledgeable. Most of the day to day trekking was with George in the lead, merrily coaxing us up (Non stop. To the top! Hip Hip. Hop Hop), interjecting with the local facts, and darting out parently reminders to cover your ears and drink your water.

Bakari was totally the papa, making sure everything is in order: keep the porters in check and on their way, checking us in (but looking at how we are handling the pens), making sure we are eating enough, looking into our eyes to check that the hope is still there, briefing us the night before for what we can expect- always the right amount of information about what to wear and how difficult it might be. He is an excellent judge of character. 

On the subject of briefing, our final brief with an air of seriousness, but conviction that we will get there: it will be cold. Bakari asked what clothes we had, and told us to put them all on. Better to be warm than cold. Listen to your guide! Cathy put all of her layers on, but in the minutes before we left, took one leg layer off. She regretted this. And an earlier in the week top tip was to keep a clean base layer for summit day, which was a very good tip, indeed.We will go slow. We will stop occasionally, but only very briefly because it is cold. We will have hot black tea on hand as a mid-point pick me up. And to prove his experience and ability to read people, he dished out the line-up for the last part of the trek. Bakari to lead, I'm just behind (he knew I was weakest and I assume wanted to listen to my steps and breathing), the others strategically planted, George to close the line. Six hours to Stella point. One more hour to Uhuru Peak.

July 13th- Day 6: Barafu Camp (4600m) to Uhuru Peak (5895) to Mweka Camp (3100m). D-day/S-day/ whatever you call it on the continent, as well?! 11:30pm (July 12th) and I wake up "as usual". I'm nervous about the number of Aspirin we have left for potentially three people and ask Bakari if he has any extra. Nope. This is slightly worrisome. I keep picturing the end goal. I take two and two Immodium (I've started my third pack in six days and I'm not about to whip my ass out of four layers of tights in freezing temperatures in the middle of the night) and we are on our way by 12:15am.

So what was I wearing? The night before I slept in my clean silver threaded socks, knickers, woolly tights, woolly thermals, sports bra, wicking tank top, and thermal longsleeve. I kept the rest of my base layers in my sleeping bag to keep them warm. I'll comment on equipment afterwards. When I woke, I really put all of the layers on that I posted before: 

Legs: silver lined socks, woolly tights, thermal running tights, woolly long socks, woolly thermal PJs, parachute pants. So, three layers on my toes, four layers on my legs. My toes went slightly numb after about two hours, but never unmanageable. I wish I would have put the extra pair of socks on that I had. At the same time, they ended up being my only clean pair, so were a little moment of joy when I put them on the next day.

Upper body: (all wicking) 5-layers: tank top, t-shirt, thermal longsleeve, high-tech fleece-lined Canada jacket, thick fleece (I left off my puffy vest). Silver lined gloves with chunky Canada woolly mitts. Tucked inside I had hand warmers (will talk about these in another entry) and another set of hand warmers on the ready in my pockets. Scarf and toque. As before apart from my toes, I never felt cold even when we stopped... except when we got to Stella Point and I whipped my hand out of my mitten to take a picture and it instantly froze. Oops!

Let's go...pole pole (and it is slowly, slowly, indeed). I feel crap! Ever so slightly dizzy and the pressure in my head has not completely left. I convince myself that I will deal with this. Keep the picture in your head. It's only 6 hours + another 1 hour. You feel better when you walk. You've come this far. Pull yourself together. Keep the picture in your head.

We plod along in the dark up the semi-familiar terrain we walked the day before and just beyond the end of the familiarity, we take our first stop. I check the watch, one hour done (5 + 1 left). It's just a short breather. I can't remember if Cathy puts her layers back on or not. We go again. Another hour up and the dizziness is increasing. My legs still feel strong, but I take around one misstep in maybe 20. I'm not out of breath. Keep going. Come on, Kristyn- Picture it! Hour 3-4, now I am taking more missteps and wobbles. I am dizzy, but muscles feel strong. Cathy is watching out for me, little bum lifts up the rocks and arm-blocks when I wobble.We stop for our hot tea break and it is liquid nectar the perfect antidote at the moment.

I ask to use Cathy's poles at this point. I need the extra balance. It's funny now, because I really don't remember using them for the rest of the trek up, only on the way down. But I must have because I really wasn't walking straight. Oh wait, it's coming back. I only used one pole on the way up- I remember for the next couple of hours alternating hands. I knew with my Reynaud's I couldn't be gripping something in both hands in the cold.

Hour 4-5 goes by. We stop briefly for a rest. Still dizzy and my headache is coming back. Picture it. Do it. Get on with it. Screw it, let's get the Diamox out (so I bought a whack-load of Diamox just in case, but was dissuaded from using it as it is meant to be a diuretic. I have enough trouble drinking the minimum 3L of water on a good day, so didn't want to exacerbate it). I pop one pill and pray that I don't get any crazy side effects- but what could go wrong? I already have all of the side effects before taking the pill. One more hour to Stella Point and then one more (non-stop to the top!).

The sky is starting to lighten. You can see the snow when glancing to the side. The shame is that I need to focus so hard on one foot in front of the other that I can't look around at the view and when I sneak a short glance I've got Cathy's arm pushing me back on the path. And with another short glance up, there is the first sign: Stella Point at 5670m, 

I realise my headache is gone (but am still wobbly). We stop briefly again and look around at where we are. The glaciers are coming into view. The sun is starting to rise. We are there. I know we will finish. I have perma-grin now for the last hour. This is really happening. It's still hard, but I can't remember the particulars.

I have two memory flashes from now until the summit. One: George warming my hand up after I tried to mess about with my camera. I can say this is the only time I remember feeling cold (apart from tingly feet).

Two: and this is the best one... an overwhelming, full-to-the-brim-and-even-bubbling-over amount of truly euphoric invincibility where I saw the sign (literally, the structure saying you have arrived at Uhuru Peak) and the first thing that popped in my head was my quote from Rat Race "eet's a race! I'm weeen-ing" (Miss Chataway, I actually pictured your face!). 

I turned to my fellow climbers and with the biggest grin on my face said "Let's race?!" really hoping that someone wanted to run there with me. And retrospectively the funniest thing was the looks on their faces like I was the craziest person in the world. Is she so stupid to actually suggest such a notion? How is it possible as she barely could put one foot steadily in front of the other not even an hour ago. Really deadpan looks of confusion. Okay, then. I'll savour the last moments.

And then we were there (officially 7:00am). A little bit underwhelming with the constant stream of people standing in front of the sign. Our guide did well to tell us when to push in for pictures and the other guides did well to ensure that each of their clients got their unspoilt money-shot (with a little bit of cropping). And 15 minutes later it was over. That was it. We were urged to start the descent so we don't get cold and we made our way back down.

We stop after about two hours on the way down, strip some layers off, and refresh with a mango juice box. The switchbacks we navigated earlier are now visible. We cross fellow trekkers that have had a harder time, but are still full of determination to get to the top (and I thought I felt rough- I am sure I didn't look like some of the people still making their journey). I use two poles on the way down as my balance has not fully recovered after the drop in adrenaline (although my headache is absent); for the first time, my legs feel weak and on the restart, my calf locks. Bakari is leading us very quickly down. I can't quite keep up with him and the others so take it more slowly with George. Coming down is like slalom skiing in the shale/dust and is kind of fun.

We park it back at Barafu Camp (sans hot water washing when you really want it) for a sleep and lunch and on the last boulder right before my tent (seriously, one more step down), my legs crash out in exhaustion and I end up with a nice scrape and bruise up my backside. Who cares now... just get me to bed. There are still three to four more hours to descent for today. 

The hike down brings us back from the rock desert, to the strange rainforesty/tundra combination again. The stop at Mweka Camp feels all a bit more lush than the past few days. We are in sweet little tree alcove camping areas again. We have hot water. The administration guide at the sign-in hut offers beer or Coca-Cola if we want to purchase something for a celebration. 

We have dinner (where it was nice to not absolutely have to force-feed yourself) and discuss the tipping situation. Bakari joins us to advise on some of the particulars: tipping, sharing clothes with the porters, the plan for the next day (Kilimanjaro songs in the morning, thank yous to the team, etc.), and feedback for him as a guide. It's bed time still relatively early (8-9pm) with another moment to savour the stars whilst brushing our teeth and relive the contentment of today's achievement. I take two more Ibuprofen and sleep straight through until 5:30 for the first time since being on the mountain. I even dream (in the night rather than visualisation to get to the top).

July 14th- Day 7: Mweka Camp (3100m) - Mweka Gate (1500m) 10km. Birthday comedown. Again, nice to wake up with only a mild headache treatable with Ibuprofen and nice to not force feed yourself. I think I hate peanut butter now, so I try eggs- ummm... no; I only eat half and one toast with jam. Oh, and my birthday cake!! A little Mars cake that my friends travelled for me is waiting when I come into the tent with two candles. Simple pleasures: chocolate and nice people thinking of you on your birthday. 

On a day when you want to take it pole pole and drink in all that you have done, each activity is punctuated with some urgency that we need to make a move from the guides. No actual wake up call (knowing that they have programmed you to wake up at 7am for the last six days, so you will naturally rise early); but a sharp reminder to pack everything up. A somewhat leisurely breakfast, but when they see we are practically finished, we are encouraged to come out of the tent for Kilimanjaro songs. Two rounds of happy birthday + a round of Kilimanjaro Kilimanjaro wrapped up with the famous Jambo Bwana (Jambo. Jambo Bwana. Habari gani. Mzuri sana...I will post a video later, of course my camera died at this point); but then the very formal thank you session and tip giving and then we are off.

A two hour down-hill, slippery slope race through the rainforest to the check out gate. Beware of the very fast moving porters. They are on a mission, leaping and bounding with the kit on their backs and packs on their heads; no summit-drunk trekker is going to get in their way. 

We get to Mweka Gate to sign out (paper based as usual and I can finally change my age!) while the porters load the van for the drive back to the office and hostel. And on the way back to the hostel, it's a time for reflection (of course) and I'm Happy: Happy that I did it. Happy that it's over. Happy to be able to have a shower. Happy to put some clean clothes on. Happy to sit down in a chair with a back. Happy that I have this experience in my life and it truly pushed me to the limit. What a sense of achievement.