OK Guys remember this is an English man writing this so forgive any overzealous emotions... in the stuff below...

 
The stage was set down under for a titanic clash between ENGLAND and AUSTRALIA and POMs all over Australia were in for a bashing from every quarter of the Aussie press... At times it was not pretty and certain people seemed to truly believe they should hate England and any of its people... There is still a strong feeling of injustice within certain sections of the Australian population triggered by sport and Britain's historic arrogance (This was certainly true during the years of the British Empire but not today surely). But the majority of Australians showed genuine friendship and hospitality...

For me it was strange to be in a country so similar to home, the people, the cities, the culture; after spending so long in third world countries. I did not like it at first and some of the ill feeling shown towards the visiting English fans at times made it an unpleasant place to be... But my overwhelming memory will be of a people that open themselves to foreign travellers and showed great hospitality... I have some great friends that I will be sad to leave.

The wait was unbearable, England had beaten France and were now just one week away from the final. I had to find something to take my mind off it, a bush walkabout and surf school would prove to be the perfect antidote.

The bush walk was a true adventure. It started at Falcon Bridge, about 1 hour's train ride out of Sydney. It went along an ancient Dreaming trail used by the aboriginies for the journey into manhood. At the end I was voted the one that got the most into the aboriginal way of life... It probably had something to do with the fact that I covered myself in white ochre when others just looked on... ah well when in Rome! It was a great day and everyone enjoyed the history lesson... More on this adventure later.

The surf school was a true modern Aussie adventure: great surf, plenty of drink and hot chicks on the beach. I enjoyed the 3 days. I was surfing by the end and as usual was always the last one being dragged out of the water at the end of the day....

The 4 days were perfect, I only thought about the game every hour instead of every waking minute... Now as I was sitting on the bus on my way back to Sydney on Friday evening, it hit me it was the final tomorrow and all I had to do was endure one more day and I would be sitting in the stadium with the game about to start...

Who would have dreamt up a plot as dramatic as the one that unfolded before my eyes on that wet evening in the Telstra stadium. The first 80 minutes were fearsome, full of skillful, hard hitting rugby and full of emotion, the crowed played as the 16th man on both sides, their voices bawling out the nations' songs...

It was the 79th minute, Elton Flatly had been given a penalty kick at goal for a English foul in the scrum.. he had missed 2 earlier and now this one would keep Australia in the final and take the game into extra time... The crowed where silent... Like a true hero he slotted it over without a hint of doubt... the Australians screamed the English slumped for a second and then lifted themselves and started to sing ENGLAND, ENGLAND, ENGLAND... it was not over yet.

You could see Johnson rallying his team, he truly believed that every second of extra time was ours to be used to construct our win... not to dismantle our dreams, time was not ebbing away but bringing victory closer...

I sat with my head in my hands my heart about to burst under the pressure of the tension. We had to play our best rugby ever and the Australians knew that. They also knew we had a tendency to choke on the big occasions and they did not get any bigger then these last 20 minutes.

All around me there was a distant echo, a tribal call to arms. It was building... SWwiiiiiiiiiiING LOooooooW SWEeeeeET CHAaaaRIOoooT... into a tidal wave it grew until it spilled over onto the pitch in a wave of emotion and passion... The players could hear and feel its presence and they believed...

We where now set for the most nail biting 20 minutes of extra time in the world of rugby world cup history.


Both teams came out and played knowing it was their last chance for glory. This was the moment they would be remembered for... The teams knew they were in a battle against an old rival that they had to and could respect. No honour was being lost on the field of dreams, just threads of destiny woven.

It was England that got the first breakthrough and they remained in front coming out for the second half of extra time.

The second half had just as much drama. Flatley pulled it back to 17-all from another penalty due to a yet another foul by England in the scrum.

The clock was ticking... it appeared to stop in the 99th minute, afraid to move on and turn the page. Time did not want to see the final outcome. Both teams wanted the victory and had played their hearts out for it... But the English pack lead by Johnson had other ideas. They were not afraid and they dragged time kicking and screaming down the field of play getting closer to the try line.

Johnson gave his final orders, Dawson saw a gap and dummied to make room to drive through... the clock had 30 seconds left on its grimacing face. Dawson was still in the maul on the floor, Johnson looked up and saw Johnny standing in space but still too far away to give him the time he needed to guarantee his kick at goal. The Australians pack knew what was about to unfold before them and they had him marked. So Johnson picked up the ball and made one last drive tearing through a gap and landing in a metre of space... NOW OR NEVER...

The ball lay clear on the ground. No knock-ons or fumbles to dent our dream. Dawson had picked himself out of the maul and was waiting, he picked the ball up and looked behind, Johnny was there...

I was sat motionless behind the goal. My head was pounding, my heart was breaking through my chest. Johnny's figure was small and motionless he caught the ball, for one more heartbreaking moment time stopped again, afraid to fulfill a team's dream and one man's destiny... and break another team's heart. Calmly he dropped the ball to the turf and kicked it towards goal his head only looking up as the ball sailed over the bar...

The English crowd erupted. I was jumping on the seats, hugging strangers, smiling and crying all at the same time... We had just won the Rugby World Cup...

YES...

Steve

I heard a distant eco in my mind saying, "England - Rugby World Cup Champions"... I shut it out quickly

 
Walking down the streets of Subiaco District in Perth at 5pm on the 18 of October you could have been excused for thinking you where in Twickenham for a 6 nations game the red and white of English rugby was every where...

My stomach was turning at the thought of what lay ahead, I was in Australia, it was the rugby world cup, and England had a team that had the skills and track record to be world champions... And I was here with tickets for this game England V South Africa and both Semis and Final...

In Rugby it cannot get better than this... I heard a distant eco in my mind saying it can "England - Rugby World Cup Champions"... I shut it out quickly not wanting to tempt fate...

I had managed to meet up with a group of lads I had met while climbing Aconcagua in South America in January 2003. Ian who had also hit the world trail in June 2003 and had just completed working on a Turtle conservation project in Mexico and Seth who was now a proud father of a 5 month old daughter. He had discovered that his climbing exploits have nothing on fatherhood he was enjoying every new experience but like all things in life it came with some shitty stuff as well, literally, and a few headaches.

The Toohy's were flowing well along with Bundies and coke, the bar was playing live music, well not a bar but a car park at the back of an Irish bar... it was packed with Springboks and English supporters. There were Bowler hats, red and white and yellow wigs, face paint, Flags of both nations and the band played a rendition of 'Swing Low Sweet Chariots'...

As the clock ticked closer to kick off I found it hard not to show my nerves as the tension grew, Ian also felt the strain, The rest of the lads laughed and had another drink... I had to get going to the stadium to let off some tension ...

We finished our drinks and hit the road, the streets were alive with fans singing and laughing every bar was still packed. Turning on to the main road the stadium loomed out of the darkened streets like the Coliseum in Rome... The lights blazing into the night sky... The sound of the crowed could be heard, expectation and tension were building not diminishing...

We all split going our separate ways to our seats... On entering the ground I painted the George Cross on my face and entered the stadium, it was packed and the sound hit me as I entered... My eyes where filled with Red and White the odd SA flag could be seen amongst the sea of White... Shit I'm here! I stood soaking it all in.

The teams came out and the sound cranked up to full volume. It was a tense game both sides fighting hard but the Boks had the better of the play... at half time it was six all and we where lucky to be still that close.
My heart was racing at 180 per minute I had been running with every ball and felt every fumble and knock on and foul...

To help calm down at half time I had a pie, nothing like a pie to settle the stomach...

The second half was just as tense but Wilko helped settle the nerves with some marksman kicking off penalties and drop goals... But a charge down and a cracking kick and chase by Greenwood gave us the try we needed to settle the game... At full time we had notched up 25 points to 6 from the Boks... Job done ... on to the next game.

Fans from both side drank and sang together after the game... football has a lot to learn from Rugby...

Steve

Kuala Lumpur

 
Firstly I will be getting back to those that have sent me personal emails soon...

Last update I was in Kuala Lumper about to watch Newcastle in the Asia cup final well we lost on penalties and that was just the start of a very bad season, but I'm sure we will come good...

After the football I headed to Taman Negra in the centre of Malaysia it is the oldest jungle in the world. I spent 4 days trekking in its interior; sleeping in caves, fighting off leaches and mosquito's; shooting rapids... Then on to the west coast of Malaysia to the Perinthian Islands for more diving snorkeling and chilling... from there I headed back to Bangkok for a quick turn round of one day and on to India flying into Calcutta.

India was an experience full of extremes, I am still trying to figure out if it nourished me or made me sick! I went to Bhubaneshwar, Konark and Puri on the East coast; amazing temples, spent 2 days being driven around in a 1950 Wolsey, all the cabs are like this and they still make em this way...

Then on to Varanasi, the world's cultural centre for Hindus and Buddhists. It is fabled to be the oldest city in the world and is recorded in the earliest Hindu myths. It was also the place of the first sermon from Buddha he set out the 4 Noble Truths that are now the cornerstone of Buddhism... It also has some of the most beautiful Ghats in India along the Ganges. These are stone steps and palaces built on the banks covering about 5 Km used for morning and evening worship. But is is also very poor and very dirty I saw and old man die on the streets here but because he was of a low cast was left for hours on the street in the gutter where he died...

Then onto Lucknow, the old British governing strong hold and was witness to the first great mutiny against British rule in 18 57...This place has some great architecture, some built by the great Newabs kings, amazing palaces with hidden labyrinths and underground water gardens, mosques and British Imperial monuments and buildings.

Next up was Agra home to the Taj Mahal and the great Agra Red Fort.

From here I went to Khajerho the site of Erotic Hindu temples the entire Karma Sutra is shown here in life size stone carvings...Next Bhopal the city of the lakes and site of the Carbhide disaster.... from there onto Jadpur and Ajhanta Buddhist temples carved into solid rock in a 250m canyon...

I will be writing more about India's beauty and poverty and death on the streets all seen at close quarters during my visit. My travels in India where via train a great way to see and meet the people of India and experience their hospitality, cultural divides and the void between the sexes...

I returned to Calcutta and Bangkok and another quick turn round 1 day and of to Vietnam....First flew into Phenom Pen then got bus to Saigon now Ho Chi Mim City.... or Uncle Ho Chi Min City..... From there it was of to the Mekong Delta for 3 days then 1 day in the Tunnels of Saigon used by the Viet Cong during the US war.... Bloody small and very hot only the small Vietnamese could have been at home in these things..... We also got a chance to fire big guns, I did not waste my money.... Then I headed of to Dalat in the hills of south Vietnam for some mountain biking through jungle and army firing ranges...I then hired a motor bike and a guide and went of into the jungle to find lost tribes... and smoke and drink god knows what... I finally arrived in Nha Trang in one piece, this place is the Blackpool of Vietnam seaside towns... I spent 1 night there then headed of to Doc Lek this is a remote fishing village on the east coast I stayed at a small family run place right on the beach... Owned by a 76 year old Croatian called Cherie and his Vietnamese wife and his two sons a great story to be told about the old guy more later.... his life should be a book...

From there I headed back to Saigon and onto Bangkok via Phenom Pen. 2 days sorting stuff out, a few purchases, some movies then off to Krabbi for some sports climbing, Sea Kayaking, Kayak surfing and some diving the dolphins payed us a visit. I stayed on Au Nang beach and them moved to Railey Beach only possible by long boat... Had a great time here and the kayaking was aw some caves leading into hidden water grotto's there is a lot more to be told about this place....

Then back to Bangkok and picked up my suites and stuff, sent it all back home...I flew into Perth on the 13/10. NEXT is the RWC Eng V SA in Perth then Eng V Samoa in Melbourne, then onto Sydney and the SEMIS and FINAL.. I will get some of Aus in as well I need to plan this still......Then into New Zealand........

Well that is it for now more STORIES to follow.....

Keep on playing....

Cheers

Steve

 

A SHORT STORY

 

What follows tries to give an account of my visit to the Killing fields in Cambodia...

"I was filled with mixed emotions sitting in the cab driving through the lush green paddy fields. The sun was bright and the water reflected the tall isolated palms towering over the workers bent double tending the rice fields. The only thing they had to worry about was the burning sun and their grass hats protected them from that... it all seemed so peaceful... and normal...

Why was I going to see the place where 17 000 people where bludgeoned to death and children bayoneted after being thrown into the air to save wasting bullets . All done because there new leader Pol Pot wanted to rid his country of any thinkers any individual thought and any potential of it... Why did I want to go ?

I told myself it was a moment in history very recent history when again the human race showed just how depraved, ignorant and blind it could be. I could either chose to turn my back or face the horror of the memories by visiting this place and paying my respects by being a witness to the depravity and remembering the dead as people.

But I was also curious to see the 8000 skulls of men women and children piled into a 40 foot pagoda with glass walls built in memory to the people that where slaughtered... I was not totally innocent of being a gawper...

As we pulled up outside the site of the camp, the now usual hawkers ran over trying to sell post cards, water, gum and guides ... These guides where no more than local children, 16 years of age trying to make some money from the visiting tourists... The whole experience seemed unreal considering where we where... I had seen this behaviour many times before around the world but it seemed disrespectful to the dead in this place...

I was ready to criticise them when I had a passing thought "I can afford to feel this way, I have money and can afford everything I need... These children and adults could not, but they still respected their dead I was sure ... in fact not just there dead it was their family and friends, 2 Million people died, 1 third of the population at the hands of Pol Pots hench men, every person in Cambodia knows some one that died. But they all had to live for today and build a new future... " It helped me put my own feelings into perspective.

Entering into the Camp the Pagoda came into view it was a beautiful white building, simple and elegant, tall, built in three layers it gave no sign of what it contained... walking closer the shadows came into focus thousands of skulls stared out at me... I was silent I could not focus on anything else... I walked past not wanting to dwell for to long.

But I was drawn closer to it, curiosity getting the better of me, mixed in with the remains where personal effects and clothing for some reason this made it all very real.

I turned away and started to walk further into the camp, the sound of children's laughter could be heard clearly, they came into view playing in the grass that filled a number of hollows in the ground... walking closer small signs told you that in this hollow 200 women and children where found ... on another 300 torsos, another 150 children... After a while no signs just hollows in many places as far as the eye could see, these graves remained undisturbed...

The children still played totally oblivious to the significance of this place for me they seemed to fill the void between the dead and the living... A shout rang out it was a guard waving a stick he chased the kids away, they ran into the woods still laughing.

Around one tree a local lady was scraping the surface of the ground I walked over to see what she was doing. To my horror she was extracting teeth to show other tourists... They where young children's teeth... She showed them to her group and explained that the soldiers swung the babies by there feet into the tree,,,, I feel sick and saddened as I am writing this ... The other tourists got there cameras out and asked for there photo to be taken by the tree, one women was sorting through a pile of bones as it was taken... I was stunned how could people be so ignorant and stupid... ! "

I know this is not the first time and not the last time this will happen and some people I know are currently working to bring those guilty of genocide in Africa to justice... But until you see these places it never seem to be real... we need to remember... and be in touch with the past. Ignorance, stupidity and complacency are our enemies don,t accept them just because it is easier that way...

Steve

The Meaning of life... STORY or is this just ramblings?

 

OK this next email is me going off on one of my own trains of thought some of you will love it, others hate it and some just think I have lost it again... So here Goes...

I have just finished another Joe Simpson book. The guy that wrote Touching the Void. He has a great way of looking at life not just as a climber and he must read may books as he quotes from them in all of his stories... This piece of writing that follows is from the latest Simpson book, just read it and think about it.

Quote..From The Beckoning Silence by Joe Simpson, author of this piece is unknown...Simpson found it in a book he was reading...

Youth is not a time of life... it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of ripe cheeks, red lips and supple knees... it is a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigour of the emotions... it is a freshness of the deep springs of life.

Nobody grows old living a number of years, people grow old only by deserting their ideals. Years wrinkle the skin but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.

Worry, doubt, distrust, fear, and despair... these are the long, long years that bow the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust.

Whether seventy or sixteen , there is in every being's heart the love of wonder, the sweet amazement of the stars and star-like things and thoughts, the undaunted challenge of events, the unfailing child-like appetite for what is next, and the joy and game of life...

This piece of writing got me thinking about, how many people I know that have lost that spark, the enthusiasm. They worry, have doubts, distrust and fear change and as a result are facing despair and boredom. Can they be helped?

On my travels I have met many people with the child like appetite and many of my old friends and family continue to play in the game of life but in many different ways. All have different back grounds and means, some have families and others without, some single others in couples... BUT they all share something in common an energy and an imagination that becomes apparent if you are in their company for only a short time and it is infectious.

Even if they are not able to fully utilise their energy and appetite for life in their chosen way due to factors like health,money, work and family, it never diminishes, they find new ways to use it within their current life style, why because they have inner energy, use their imagination and will but most importantly have support from friends and family.

In conclusion we can all fall into this pit of despair more than once, but by rekindling the spark and regenerating the energy, we can use our imagination and will to climb out and take that first step...The key is having help and support from others.

I am not trying to help anybody here other than me by sharing a few thoughts that are evolving as I travel and think about my own life and motivators. I felt it would help me to share them with you. Feedback would be helpful...

Cheers

Steve

Hello to one and all...... this is the first group email in 4 months....

 
Some of you have been wondering where I am and if all is well.... I am well and still enjoying the adventure.

I have had had some good feed back about my emails from a number of you. Some of you like the stories, others find it very hard to know where I am because I am telling you about things out of sequence and some find it hard to understand the emotions I am trying to convey. Other mates think I'v gone madd, arty farty and will be wearing frilly shirts and smelling the daphodils when I finally return... thats what trying to do creative writing gets you.

To help all of you I will be summarising my trip giving current location and plans. And I will still be sending the stories and thoughts as well so watch out for them, I will mark them as a STORY or QUICK UPDATE, so you can decide whether to read now save or delete...
 
My Last 5 months in South America after the Antarctic were spent in Chile touring the Torros Del Paine then onto El Chalten in Argentina to go Ice climbing on new years Eve.
 
Then started a road, air and sea trip to Mendoza in the far north of Argentine Patagonia. It took me to Porta Mont, Baralochi, St Martin Del Los Andes, Pucon and Santiago. I climbed active Volcanos, did whitewater rafting and hydrospeed. I learnt how to not Kayak in white water rapids, quad-biked along old lava flows on an active volcano and trained with an argentine Eco Challenge athlete...
 
Climbing Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the Americas was a big undertaking and I failed to reach the summit by 200 meters. But what an amazing experience and a great 4 weeks in the Andes mountains...
 
It was then onto Brazil for Carnival, Salta and Iguazu Falls in Argentina, then Bolivia, touring the 12 000 KM Salt flats of Iyuni and climbing Volcanos and mountain biking in La Paz, and finaly in Peru trekked to Machu Pichuu.
 
I left South America in April and spent 2 weeks in the UK, before going on to Nepal to climb more mountains, do some Rafting and Mountain biking.
 
After Nepal and Katmandu I flew to Thialand into Bangkok and then onto Koh Toa for 8 days diving then back to Bangkok and onto Cambodia to see Seim Reap to see Angkor wat the ancient capital. It was built 1100 years ago and is straight out of Tomb Raider and Raiders of the Lost Ark... an amazing place.
 
I am now in Malaysia and among other things have seen Newcastle play in the Asia CUP will be going to the final tonight... Have also visited Melaka an old Dutch and Portugues trading town...
 
While in Asia I have been able to each lots of chicken noodle soup my favorite... along with spiders, scorpions, locusts and big bugs like roaches... well I could have tried them if I wanted all on sale cooked in garlic butter / Oil and chilli... Maybe later...!    
 
OK done for now
 
Cheers
Steve

 

I have just finished Machu Picchu it is a must do 4 day hike the ruins are an amazing sight ... Here is an other chapter from my Africa trip this section started on the 20th of August 2002...

My time on Zanzibar was coming to an end and the next part of the journey was about to begin. All I had to go on was an email telling me to meet the truck in Arusha at the Mac's Pattiserie on the 20 August 2002 at 12 noon...

I bought my ferry tickets in stone town this time like an old hand some what diffrent to my arrival. I would be staying one night in Dar A Salam at the Q Bar again then onto Arusha by bus a 12 hour journey...

The bus journey was hot and long but the seats where comforable a young lad sat next to me he had been put on the bus at Dar by his mother she asked me to take care of him his father would pick him up in Arusha...I filled the time playing I spy and drawing the places I had been and was going to. He tought me some words in Swahili " Mambo Vipi " = Cool or Fresh and "Poa" = OK , in the corparate world of BAA I had been told I said "cool" to much for a Director by one senior exec, now I had an alternative "Vipi..." to torment them with... if I returned...

I must admit it went through my mind that I maybe left holding the baby but the kids father did turn up although very late... My good deed done for the day I set out to find a place to stay in Arusha just for one night. I found a cheap place that had at TV showing Newcastle V West Ham perfect the first game of the season Newcastle won 5 Nil great result...

Next morning I got up early and went into town found on Internet place and wrote to Jo we got on line together for 3 hours it was good to talk with her...

I finished another chapter on my travels and left for the Patisserie... There a large truck was waiting with Pheonix Expeditions painted on its sides this was my ride...Or so I thought. A blond lady was talking to some Australians she had a Pheonix Shirt on asked here if she was Anna. The reply was cold and almost indignant "No." .. I continued to exlain why I was asking I finally got the answer I needed my truck was running late I would need to take a ride with this truck to the Snake Park just ouside Arusha..

On the truck I was introduced to all the people by Kym a freindly smiling face from Austrailia. They where all friends and friends of friends and vets they had studied together and had planned to do a trip like this sometime after graduation..They seamed a good bunch but I was glad to be on another truck as they all appeared to know each other it felt klicky... Later on I got to know them all and they where a good bunch, just Australian... There was a lot of rivalry between the trucks which at times over spilled into frustration and anger on both side me included... but it added to the experience of the 8 week trip.

I must admit that after traveling under my own steam for 6 weeks its felt a little restricting being on the truck but I found out later most people felt the same to some degree...

 
test

 

After the excitement of the Drakes Passage the seas became calmer and the days became longer the the light hung onto the skys fighting of the vail of darkness...

Our time was being filled with new sights and sounds as well as being educated on the wild life of the Antarctic by Jenny. We found out about the mating patterns of the penguins, how to tell if they had just finished a shift on the nest.

Both males and females take it in turns, while the other takes a bath in the cool clear sea water, they make it look so inviting, as they play and porpoise in the ice filled sea, as if they have found it for the first time... They then go to sea for days weeks looking for food feeding them selves and saving food in there guts for the young. It is easy to tell who has been on the nest, when you know that the fat happy clean looking one has been at sea, while the brown shit and bile covered one with the pissed of look on its face is the one left holding the baby. Strange how nature can be a window on our lives... ! Mind you they do take it in turns, maybe there is a lesson in there somewhere... Jenny also spent time telling us about the seal population and the other sea birds we may see.

One bird I shall remember was the white antarctic sheath bill a cheeky little bugger. It was 2 am the sun had just dimmed before rising again. The boat was sitting in the ice the anchor rested on its surface looking out of place... I had just taken a picture, when this white bird came from nowhere and started to circle the boat, checking out me and the other 3 passengers that could not sleep ... It landed on the bow tufty white feathers and pink stumpy claws and inquisitive pink eyes.. It posed for the camera getting very close to us it appeared to enjoy the company... It was a land bird and was not adapted to life at sea, it looked pleased to welcomed the strangers on this newly arrived piece of land. It stayed for quite some time then left as quickly as it came.

It was our 2nd day at sea and we had been told we should get our first sighting of an iceberg we had all been asked to predict when this would be. I was on the bridge it was mid afternoon and a large number of us had arrived hoping to get a sight of our first berge.. The time was 5 pm green blips had started to appear on the radar the captain was setting a course that would take us through the middle of them...

As I looked out of the bridge windows a distant shadow appeared on the horizon it was huge, bigger than I had expected and at first I though it was land. Then the sun caught its form and blue white ice shone for a second the sea was breaking hard into the ice and being flung over is bulk, white mist and spray bathing its surface. What a sight, a buzz circled the bridge cameras clicked and people ran out onto deck waiting to get the best shot... It was awesome and just a little unnerving these bergs where more than 10 times the size of our boat... and we where passing within 100 meter of them... Down in the lecture room lay a copy of Titanic Kat Whinslet eat your heart out, passengers took it in turn to stand on the bow point. Standing high enough to feel like they where flying through these towering giants pretty amazing... Brian one of the climbers stayed out longer than most excitedly pointing to each berg as it appeared..

Gregs voice crackled over the ships PA we should get sight of our first land that evening and he had prepared the boats for us to go ashore. He was a man that kept to his word, he had said that we would use all the daylight we could during this trip and thats what he was going to do..

 

To the team...

No Photos yet but I have a few words to conjure up a few images... spelling not checked so forgive any mistakes.

Do you remember the sights and sounds of our first few days on the dust track to Aconcagua base camp...

Do you remember the...

Blue, white sky touching the source. The orange, brown, gray, green, red, yellow, purple mountains, married to the sky. The magnisium sun burning, rich colours.The chocolate brown rivers, tinged with coffee cream foam. The sound of fast running water, rumbling rocks, smooth and curved. The crystal air and sky«s, filling the lungs and courting the eyes. The beauty beyond dreams and imagination, the emotions deep. The Condors in flight magestic and grusome, natural beauty. The picked carcusses. The mountain summits, dreams offering up heaven and hell. The exposed windy peaks waiting to chill your being and fill your soul...

Do you remember...

At base camp we had first briefing with Khalil

It was informative and had some humour, the facts came out, containing death and success, we started to develope respect and fear for our guide and the mountain we where going to climb, we saw the first real signs of being a team, we felt we where in this together, the realisation that this was a serious undertaking, relief to see experience and developing leadership...

Do you remember...

Base camp... blue, turquoise, jade green lakes, Burger bars, Sat Phones, stories of dead clients, Climbers with Pulmary adema, penitants snow sculpures, carving winds, melting sun, helicopters bring food taking away shit, Headaches and pills, filling food, people feeling good, people cautious, people wanting to just do it.

Do you remember...

The first sight of the tents at base camp no particular order, blue, orange and yellow dominating. The centinals standing guard Mt Bonete, Mt Catedral, Cerro Horcornes and the colosus Aconcagua... The clouds trying to steal the day gray at thier heart, white wists at the edges trying to deceive. The suns magic catching the clouds water and presenting a colour display before evaporating them away. A lone penitant stubornly fighting it out with the boulders and late afternoon sun. People walking the scree trail to camp 1, sweat and tired legs on the ascent, relief and strain on the knees on descent. Cold drinks and cake in the mess tent. Talk of the day, How hard it was, How easy. Questions, How you feeling, Is your head OK, Have you drank enough water. Watching the winds blow the snow into spin drift. Stories of failed attempts and success all in one together... The thoughts.. How will we all fair? Will the mountain be a demon or angel ? Am I OK???

Who Knows ...

DO YOU REMEMBER... ?

 

Two days crossing the Drakes Passage meant you would be sea sick Doc tried to help us all but some of us refused to take any medication, well I did and I was sick on more than one occasion. I still managed to eat and catch up with all of the other passengers and watch some classic videos Gladiator, Field of Dreams and Amadaus.

One thing stook in my mind we had done a life boat pratice the day we boarded the ship. The boats where small and very clustophobic... It would be hell if the disaster happened at night in mountainess seas while being half dressed and feeling sea sick...

I woke on the morning of the 9th of December to be greeted by the feeling of nausea filling my body the boat was rolling wildly, I closed my eyes and drifted between peace and gut wrenching sickness...

I eventually climbed out of my bunk and made it onto the deck, to get my first sight of the rolling sea it was wild, Albertroses glided amongst the watery peaks. At times they appeared to be swallowed whole by an on coming wave, only to rise like some ocean going phoenix...they had majesty and magic on their wings...

I watched the spec tical for about an hour then went below deck. This was not a good move the minute I lost the horizon, my contents of my gut set into motion, a slow but unstoppable motion, which culminated in me filling a sick bag.. I went to my cabin and lay still very still forcing a comforting vale of sleep upon my body...

I was woken by a muffled announcement over the ships speakers I just made out the words whales had been spotted...

I dragged myself onto the bridge passing other passengers all excited by the prospect of seeing the friendly giants, but they had gone, passing the ship and sinking into the cold inky southern ocean... Greg seeing so many of us on the bridge asked the capitan if we could turn and try and spot them again. He agreed and within 5 minutes of turning we had sight of them again...

A flock of sea birds gathered above them like a mocking crowed demanding to be entertained by a failing busker...Why where they doing this whales could never fail on the entertainment front...

As we approached a flash of black and white was seen and a large dorsal fine broke the surface it was a killer whale and it had a victim in its sights.. The birds knew this and waited for ragged fragments of flesh and trailing entrails... their skwarking filled the air... a drama of nature was unravelling before our eyes. The boat felt safe...

Cameras clicked as people tried to capture something on film but this was not a time for film it was real our minds recorded our feelings and saved them for us.

I went out on deck just as I did so a large brown back broke the surface 5 meters from the boat, a whale moved slowly looking at one with the ocean. We all looked on in amazments at what happened next. An Orcas tore free of the ocean surface its body rising high arched and dug its teeth into the back of the friendly giant. It hit with such force it ripped into the flesh and blood spilled out into the black ice cold ocean, the red spread out like a warm blanked amongst the cold inviting death. It was a slow maticulus attack not a frenzied mauling but a considered killing. As the killer swam away to wait for its brutal attack to weaken its victim, it breathed a veiled spray of red into the torchered air... my lungs held onto my breath not wanting to breath in this brutal but mesmerising spectacle...

 

The Antarctic journey begins in the Beagle Channel...

Setting of from Ushuaia I felt excited about what lay ahead... the sun was setting and the waters where calm, I had been here for weeks but could not remember seeing the mountains and the Beagle channel look so stunning... I was flanked by towering snow caped mountains, Mount Olivier stood out as a jewel in the chain lit by the rich red,orange dying sun light... The sun was reflected off the clouds and being captured in the vallies, illuminating them like some perfect Hollywood film back drop... stunning contrasts in colour, shade and light...

Earlier we had boarded the ship to be welcomed aboard by Greg Mortimer the Expedition leader and his wife Margaret they introduced the Aurora team to us ...

As a couple both Greg and Margaret had tackled some extra ordinary adventures as well as striking out on personal journeys... Greg was going to be the director of all our activities over the next 10 days.. he was a soft spoken man totally unassuming and again totally modest, he had the respect of is team, this was evident by the way they all responded to his presence... His extensive achievements where to unravel during the trip over evenings at the dinner table and in the bar. One of his team described him as a living legend, Greg in true character would have shied away from such praise. Margarate was the classic woman behind the man strong, resilient and adaptable in extreme conditions, she had been a key team member on a number of Greg's adventures, as well as having achieved her own personal challenges in many countries and on the oceans of the world. She would be taking care of logistics on the boat during our trip.

The ships doctor Vicky an Australian lady with a lively personality a big smile and a caring aura, would be taking care of us all while travelling across the Drakes Passage. On one trip she managed to do this while running for a sick bag after each round, in true Gallipoli fashion. She would also be counting us in and out of the boat and would be on board the Zodiacs at every possible chance, the smile told you she loved the Antartic.

Bob the Kayak leader had represented his country, the USA, as a Kayaker, he now ran his own adventure travel company. He was carrying out a study during these trips on the effect of Eco tourism on tourist education during and post the adventure, for his Yale Phd. He was loud and energetic you knew when he was in the room. A giant of a man, no bunk could hold his feet, he was exiled to the lecture room, which was the only place with benches long enough for him to sleep on.

Jenny the expedition biologist, was soft spoken and gave out an air of calmness and great understanding of here chosen subject. She was able to capture you with her descriptions of the animals and plant life in the Antarctic, you wanted to listen, she made it all seam simple and easy to understand and also brought the need for conservation to life, she felt it deeply.

Henrick the Dive Master on this trip, was a likable guy and modest, he was going to have his hand full with the divers. He had already experienced there loud jovial characters the night before and was nursing a hangover. Divers will never let you down on the alcohol and party front and they did n`t let us down on this trip. Although later on there pub quiz skills had something to be desired, to the delight of the kayak team, friendly rivalry is good for the soul .

Peter the ships Photographer and artist was from South African and gave a creative edge to our daily adventures. Reminding us of the beauty of our surroundings even when bashing our brains out in rain and snow to get to the summit of the chosen mountain. He had a good eye for something special whether it be light on an ice berg or a particular angle on a mountain, Antarctic animal or the Russian waitress on board ship she appeared in a number of his slides... being the photographer has its perks.

Peter the ships Barman was from England he had worked for many years in the catering and Hotel Management business and was the perfect man for the job he had a good sense of humour tinged with sarcasm, and he could listen to bullshit all night coming from his punters and still look interested at 2 or 3 in the morning, great skills... I include myself as one of those punters...

And finally the cooks Tina and Bill without them the journey would have been only half as enjoyable, they ensured we had hot food and drinks available at all hours, and the food was good. They both had extensive experience Bill in London at the Savoy and other smaller high class restaurants and Tina had much experience in the catering industry in New Zealand. Both enjoyed there jobs and felt very lucky to be part of the Aurora team in the Antarctic.

I sat in the lecture room after the breifing and considred myself to be very lucky to be part of this expedition... not only was the ship up to the job the Aurora team where to... .

 

Back from the world's biggest ice cube…

Well it's me the traveller, back from The Antarctic Penninsula and totally stunned by its beauty and brutal hostility…

But what shall I say about it? I have had so many experiences to date but each is out-equals the last. I need to compile a top ten Places/Experiences hit list… Travelling has been everything I expected it to be and more… Blazingly awesome, mundane, lonely, overcrowded, beautifully solitary, mind-bending, sad, humbling, painful to the mind and body; culturally rich, blindingly drunk, reflective, adrenalin rich, educational, confusing, frustrating, friendship, sharing home and away, brief encounters with people, places, animals and the stars at night, music, laughter and tears, goodbye's and HELLO's.

IT IS THE BEST THING I HAVE DONE TO DATE………!!! Bring it on…!

To all on my worldtour distribution list, I thank those for your replies and own thoughts and would like to wish you all a rewarding new year and happy Xmas at home or away… keep up the contact I know I don't always get back to those that reply but I will…

Keep smiling and enjoy life (I am thinking of my friends and family at this time and miss them all… )

Cheers

Steve

¡Ola! ¿Como estas?
On a rich diet of maté and Kendall mint cake. Hammond tackles the land of Che Guevara, Jorge Borges and those Welsh people, you know the ones…

Posted 1st December 2002

Words ©Steve Hammond 2002

 

Glug, glug, bubble, bubble

posted 20th december 2002

Last time I left you all on the east coast at Mustapha's place in paradiseÉ I spent 20 days on the island in total, 14 on the east coast and 6 on the northÉ

The six days in the north where filled with my PADI open water course at Nungwi, it was a fairly built-up place compared to most of the island but it was still nothing like the european resortsÉ you would see each night one of the local restaurants gutting and descaling that day's catch on the beach. This fish was later grilled on the beach and served with sweet potatoes and rice. The smell of fresh cooking fish with coriander and garlic filled the early evening airÉ each fish would feed at least 5 people and they cost 5 dollars eachÉ

The sun would set over the sea, casting reds and oranges across the pale blue sky and darkening seaÉ it was a stunning locationÉ

The weather was changeable and storms would build far out at sea, on one hot sweaty day, a dark band of cloud could be seen building, as I watched it turned into a twister, or water spout that built slowly in size until the sea could be seen boiling at its base as it tortured the surface and drew it up in a twisted torrent, before it sprayed it out back into the sea. It never made it ashore but it was an impressive sightÉ

I had a memorable hair cut in this resort. It was in a wooden shack covered in plastic and local cloth batiks. Inside, the walls were covered with football posters from all over the world; David Becham, Zinazin Zidan, Ronaldo, Scholes, Owen, Rivaldo, the barbner pointed at the posters and indicated to me that I should pick a player with the hair cut closed to the style I wantedÉ I had a Zidan. When he had finished he rolled a joint and offered me oneÉ now you donÇt get that kind of service in EnglandÉ round the corner from here was a local food stall serving mutton soup and fried bread, it was bloody delicious, especially after the joint!

The evenings on the beach were spent talking with friends I had met at Mustapha's. A couple from Finland and a couple from SwitzerlandÉ the night sky was clear and the stars bright, I saw the Southern cross and the scorpion for the first timeÉ

After dinner you could chill out in Choulo's bar; hammocks, beach fires and a mix of soul and chilled dance music typified this placeÉ Kilimanjaro and Safari beer along with a long list of shots could be ordered. On one memorable night, to celebrate the return of the lost dive master, I got suitably drunk with the rest of the resort.

Back on the east coast I went swimming with dolphins at a place called KimikaziÉ This was everything you would expect it to beÉ it was a cold day, no sun and a stiff sea breeze was making the sea choppyÉ the boat we had hired had nine people on it and we were the first boat to set out looking for the dolphins. 20 minutes later we got our first sighting, the guide told us all to get our mask and snorkel on and get readyÉ I was not hanging about as I was already ready and had my feet in the waterÉ The pod approached the boat and as they did two of them leaped out as if showing offÉ That was it, I was in the water and swimming after the dolphins, they turned and came back towards me. An adult bottle-nosed dolphin and its young shot past me rolling thru 360 degrees, their eyes watching me. They turned sharply and came back directly underneath meÉ all the time playing rolling and twisting around meÉAwesome!

Back at Mustapha's I was interested in finding out more about the island and its people so I spent a couple of days in the village of Bwejuii. The locals would be out every day farming seaweed. They tethered it to the sea beds with wooden stakes which at low tide stuck out above the water making it easy for them to find. It was mainly women doing this workÉ The seaweed was dried and bagged and sold to Japan as a delicacy and to Denmark for turning into some kind of protein food. The men either fished or sat talking in the village centre, sitting on coconut palm trunks. The young children would be out on the beach after school but they where not playing. They scraped the surface of the sand looking for small clams for their supperÉ

One afternoon I decided to join the local men sitting and talking. They where cautious of me at first and thought I was a reporter, why else would someone ask so many questions? As it turned out they where talking about the local elections, they where all members of the opposition party. I found out that 21 of their members were killed in 2000 after rioting in Stone Town. They had been protesting against the 'irregular voting methods', in other words corruption. A local official gave me some of their literature to readÉ looks like they have been fighting corrupt party officials for years. Once anyone gets to be in power they start to cream money for themselves and not the peopleÉ That was what all the road blocks on the island were for. It was the two parties collecting money from tourists and locals. It seems that they are as bad as each otherÉ it also explains why people are nervous if someone is asking a lot of questions.

Stone town is the capital of Zanzibar and as such has a rich history. It was the main gateway for the island's spice trade to the far east and europe. It also had a more sinister export, slavery. The dominant African tribes would sell the defeated tribe's men to the middle east arabsÉ The europeans got in on the act as wellÉ The old slave market was an horrific place. I was taken with 12 other people to the trading hall. Below this place were the rooms where the slaves were kept. It was cramped with only 12 people in. It was five feet high and 20 feet long by 15 feet wide. An open drain ran between two large stone benches stretching the length of the room. These still had the iron hoops that held the slave's manacles. Two small slits in the walls provided the only light and fresh air for the room. It would hold 100 plus people for up to two months. They never got let outside. They ate slept, crapped and sometimes died in this placeÉ it was unimaginable. My skin was crawling at the thought and the hairs where standing up on the back of my neck. I felt cold.

On a lighter note, today Zanzibar has a vibrant feel and much colour with many local markets full of batiks, carvings and great tasting fresh fruit, veg and spicesÉ There is a fish market where you can get anything from a squid to swordfish fresh that day, mind you it does stink a bit if you stay too long, that sun is hot!

Each evening there is a fish bbq on the quayside. You can get skewers of tuna, swordfish, squid, prawnsÉ it's endless. Theres also crab and lobsters on offer along with chicken, lamb and other meats!!!. There was also a Zanzibarian pizza; a thin pastry filled with egg, cheese, prawns and mince sprinkled with corriander and fried on a skillet! The smell comming from this place was divine and the tastes were just as good. It all went on late into the evening and all the locals, as well as the tourists ate there. It was so cheap you could fill up on 5000 schillings - $5 worth of food and that was meÉ for others it was much lessÉ The place was also filled with many local cats looking for a scrap or two, these cats knew where it was at! they all looked well fed, they where getting non of my food!

Cheers

Steve

Getting to Mustapha's the expensive way

Posted 17th November 2002

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I am now in Ushuaia. It is bloody cold, with snow covered mountains everywhere, I will be climbing them soon, but on with the Africa Story for nowÉ

The Journey to the east coast took 1 hour, the taxi cost UD$40, this was a rip off as I found out later the Dala Dalas are about 500 shillings - 50 cents. OK you do get pigs and chickens but that is cheap, shared taxis/mini buses cost about 3000 shillings - $3 and take about 10 peopleÉ but I was desperate to get out of Stone town so it was worth it to me at the timeÉ Stone town became a favourite place later once I understood the way of life betterÉ

The journey took me across the island from west to east and through the spice plantations and ever-present forest. I saw red calibos (Need to get correct spelling) monkeys feeding and grooming each other at the road side. There where also road blocks manned by people in what looked like army uniforms, some had guns. They seemed to want to do nothing other than make life difficult for the drivers, until they got something, usually cash or other stuffÉ Later I had a conversation with Mustapha about these people, there is a lot of corruption on the island.

The land was a mix of green and light browns, some places were more like desert. As I approached the coast it became dry and dusty, I started to get a hint of white sand and palm trees and the air changed. You could pick up the smell of the sea. I waited in anticipation of what I might see.

It did not disappoint me, the palm trees started to thin out and I got my first sight of the sea. It was blue, crystal blue and also turquoise, with a fringe of white sand that stretched as far as I could seeÉ

God that was beautifulÉ you could hear the waves rolling in slowly against the sand, it was a mellow soundÉ mesmerising.

In the distance the waves where crashing into the reef about 1000m off shore, beyond this was the inky blue Indian Ocean, home for dolphins and whale sharks at this time of year.

As the Taxi drove down a sandy trail along the shore line we went through Paje, a mixture of old and new, new hotels and local village huts and houses. This place was still just about unspoilt but it had a look of being on the edge. You could see new buildings being constructedÉ I hope they keep this under control I thoughtÉ

The road left the village and as we continued I could see a small group of palm roofed huts, one was higher than the rest. It over looked the beach which was about 150 meters away. The taxi stopped outside this hut, a hand made sign read Mustaphas Place. I was greeted as I got out of the car by two dogs and a Rasta man with long dreads and beard, wearing a sarong. He greeted me with a smile and said welcome, this was MustaphaÉ he knew the driver and asked him in for a drink. As I walked through the gate it opened up into a small courtyard surrounded by small palm roofed huts all painted in bright colours, in the middle was a circular area with a fireplace at its heart, this was surrounded by handmade chairs and hammocks. I could hear reggae music coming from the outside bar which was underneath the higher roof I had seen from the road. This area also had a place to eat and a place to sit while drinking. It had soul, even the cats and dogs were mellowÉ I knew I had chosen the right spot to relaxÉ

I sat at the bar and drank an ice cold Kilimanjaro beer, my hand was cold and wet from the condensation on the bottle, I placed the palm on my forehead and cooled my browÉ the sun was still very hot and it was late afternoon.

My room was cool and fresh the bed had a mozzi net and the walls had african batik hanging on themÉ I rested for an hour then went for a walk on the beach to catch the sunsetÉ

OK that me done more to come. Its bloody knackering writing like this, my brains never had to work as hardÉ I know the punctuation is still dodgyÉ

Cheers

Steve

Healing in Zanzibar

16th November 2002

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The last email on Africa left me having climbed Kili and moving onto Zanzibar, this is where I will pick my travels up again É

Having successfully climbed Kili I felt it was time to relax and unwind and heal my knack-ed old bodyÉ I had found a place on the web that sounded perfect. It was called Mustapha's place.

I planned to go and spend some of my 20 days on the island at this paradise and do some diving in the north of the islandÉ I had left the others, Kate, John, Peter and Joanne at the Antelope Hotel in Arusha, Mat the KE guide had recommended that I move on to the Outpost as it was a 3rd of the priceÉ

It was a clean friendly place, except for a white south african hunter that I ran into on my first day at the hotel. He was treating all of the locals like dirt, he showed no respect. This pissed me off and I had to say something he did not like it but he did listen É

Later he was in the bar getting pissed he told me that he had been hunting for 30 years and that the young white and black hunters where now under-cutting his rates and he was out of a job, he was divorced 3 times with 6 kids he felt very sorry for himselfÉ its a hard lifeÉ

The hotel had dorms for 15 dollars a night and a good bar serving cheap beer, 400 Tanzania-n shillings, about 30 pence.

I stayed for 2 days as the bus from Arusha to Dar A Salem was fullÉ I filled the time by catching up on my emails and relaying the story of climbing Mt Kenya and Kili to all the people on my world tour mailing list.

The journey was an 8 hour trip, it cost just $10. This included drinks and snacks on the wayÉ I went on the locals bus as this gave me a chance to meet some of the people.

In Dar I stayed at the Q bar, this place had been recommended to me by a guide in Arusha, a clean cheap place $10 which turned out to be a local brothel. I had an interesting night in the bar playing pool with some of the girls and yes, I only played pool!É

I also saw the pimp for the girls, you would not want to mess with him he looked like he would not hesitate to inflict pain on any one he disliked. He was slapping the white south african bar owner on the back (who looked uneasy) and laughing very loudly, he was making a good living out of this man's bar, the bar staff were looking on and hiding their smiles, strange how fortunes can turnÉ The next morning I left by taxi for the ferry to ZanzibarÉ

At the ferry port, the minute I got out of the taxi I was being hassled by ticket hawks for the ferry. It was not obvious which ferry was the best so I asked a local guy loading his truck with goods from Zanzibar, he recommended the Sea Star. Later on I discovered there are a number of good operatorsÉ you live and learn, reading-up first may have helpedÉ The ferry crossing was quick. The boat was a twin hulled catarmaran and was very smoothÉ some B rated movie was playing with Geoff Bridges about a kid that got stuck in a storm drain, I slept most of the wayÉ

Zanzibar was overcast but the sun was managing to get through. Where it did it cut through the sea became a crystal clear blue even in the harbour. The place was full of noises, boats unloading and people scrambling and chatting ashore up the very steep ramp to the quayside. The smell of the sea filled your nostrils, it was fresh with a hint of wet fish.

I had to queue to get my passport stamped, this was pretty quick. I sat in the sun while the queue went down. Then I headed for Stone Town, the capital of Zanzibar, with my full pack on I might as well have had a sign on my back saying 'new comer just ashore, nowhere to stay'.

I had intended to find an email place and find out how to get to Mustapha«s but there was no power on the island, this is a regular occurence I discovered later. Saying this, Zanzibar was the first place in Africa to have electric lights, a Sultan had them installed into his palace after seeing them at the great exhibition in London, his palace became known as the House of Wonders. Later the lights where added to the surrounding streets even before the streets of London.

No internet and no-where to go. The local hawks were onto me and I soon had 5 hassling me, it was hot and they were starting to make me angry.

I told them to piss off they did bar one who turned out to be OK and he did help me later. The others just stalked me from a distance in the narrow streets of Stone Town. I decided to go back to the port, the guy that stayed told me how to get to the East coast. I had 2 options, Dala Dala or taxi, a Dala dala was a local bus, you could share your journey with chickens and pigs as well as people. I decided on this occasion to go for the taxiÉ he also told me that I needed to go to Paje and BwejuiÉ At the Ferry port I found a taxi driver and asked him to take me to Mustapha«s in Paje on the east coastÉ

More to come

Cheers

Steve

Final adventure up Kili and some aquatic chenanigansÉ

Posted 20th August 2002

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OK GuysLast time I wrote I was about to go for the Kili summit it was 01:00 and bloody cold waiting at the base of the Western Breach the tension as highÉ I was bloody nervous not because of the physical demands of climbing but the effects of altitude on my body, failure had been the last thing on my mind at Mt Kenya and with only 300 m. I had to abort the climb to the top due to a nosebleed that wouldn't stop. I had invested my savings into a year of climbing mountains and to-date the mountains had won.

The preparations were complete, nothing else to do but climb to the summit which was 5 to 6 hours ahead of us. Our local guide Exuld led the way. The moon was full and our shadows where stretched out in front of us like black ghosts. In the lower scree fields the air was colder now and our breath danced in the light of our head torches.

It was easy at first because we had ensured that our packs were as light as possible; just holding water, food, and an additional layer of clothing. it was going to be even colder at the top. After an hourÕs climb the slopes began to get steep and Joanne was having to suck in the cold air, she was already feeling the effects of the physical exertion and altitude, but she kept on going, grinding out each step on the crunching scree beneath her feet. Pete had started to cough as his throat dried with each deep breath of cold air. We where stopping more frequently now and this started to aggravate me, I was getting colder on each stop and the pace was at times excrutiatingly slowÉ but we had to stay together as a single group, it was important for our safety and team spirit.

To help keep my mind occupied I started to estimate the height climbed so that I would know when I had reached the same height as Mt Kenya. This was important to me as I would be able to lay a ghost to rest.

I called out to Matt to check the height.

It was 5050 m., nearly 100 m. higher than Mt kenya, I felt no pressure in my head and my nose was clear YES!É I stopped to look out behind us only to find that the camp site was now just a distant memory but still visible in the crisp night air. The moon still lit our wayÉ I could see Arush and Moshi in the valley blow, their shining lights marking the start of our journeyÉ and our final place of rest and recoveryÉ I turned back to the trail and found that the othershad moved off.

I soon caught them up. As I approached them I looked up. We had reach the Chicken wing, a band of rock. It was time to start scrambling and we still had 3 hours to go.

Pete's cough was getting worse and he started to retch. Joanne was now having to dig deep, Exuld was helping her negotiate the rocks and scree, moving very slowly to ensure good footing. John had appeard to be coping well but with each stop he would take longer to get going and he would sit down looking as if he wanted to sleep. Soon it became obvious that the lack of sleep and food was starting to take its effect. It was like a drug and John started to be argumentive and would not agree to start moving again if he thought he could steal a few more seconds of rest. Soon John was not John anymore. He had assumed a new personality that became known as ÔBobÕ. ÔBobÕ was cantankorus and failed to recognise any of us in the group.

We were now off the rock band and in the upper scree slopes just below the final bastion of rock leading to the Kibo rimÉ The group was still moving well although each person was having their own personal battle with the cold, the physical effort and the altitude.

Pete had taken a turn for the worse and was being sick, both Matt and Exuld where examining him closely for erratic breathing and dilated pupils. They gave him some drink and took some weight out of his rucksack.

Joanne welcomed the stop. She was now running on will alone. The guides checked she was OK and then it was time to continue we had gone too far to descend. Up was now the quickest route off the mountain if needed. Joanne asked how long it was before we would reach KIBO. 25 minutes was the reply. She did not believe the answer and continued to climb.

A huge wall of ice started to appear in front of us sliding up the horizon as we climbed, it took a while for us all to realise that we had reached the rim. We had just climbed 900m and it had took 5 hours as planned. We had not moved that slowly after all.

The wind hit us, cutting through our layers like a cold blade of steel. ÔBobÕ had sat down as soon as he realised he had made the first objective and started to fall into sleep. Matt shook him, it was to cold to rest here but ÔBobÕ strongly disagreed. He was soon back on his feet, though walking in protest, it seemed like a lifetime to him before we reached shelter and the sight of our final goal, 300m above us via another scree slope.

ÔBobÕ slumped to the ground resting on a rock stirring blankly out in front of him. The guides got out hot tea and some snacks for the group. They then payed close attention to Pete and Joanne, warming them through with body massage and more clothing. I was feeling good and Kate was still taking it all in her strideÉ no time to rest, once we were all fed and watered we were ushered-up to be ready for the final climb. We would all be going, no one was going back.

As we reached the top of the scree, Uhuru peak came into view and I quickened my pace. WeÕd all made itÉ John didnÕt remember getting to the peak as ÔBobÕ was still in control but within 15 minutes or so he was back and enjoying the moment with the rest of the group. Joanne and Peter seemed to make a total recovery high on the adrenalin of achievementÉ

OK thatÕs the first challenge done and dusted.

I have just got back from Zanibar and I am now back in Arusha waiting for the group to go overland via Tanzania ,Milawi, Mozambiqu, Zambia, Namibia and Cape Town. Zanzibar is a location I can recommend to all, in particular the East Coast Near Paje and Bwijuu.

I stayed in a small family run place called ÔMustaphaÕs PlaceÕ, imagine white sand, palm trees, Palm roofed huts; cool soul and Jazz music mixed with lots of Reggea then you'll have a good ideaÉ went diving in the north at Nungwi. Its a lot more touristy but the diving is exellent, especially near Nemeba, a small coral atol just of the main island.

I saw sting ray, turtles and dolphins; bloody marvelousÉ I 'm now PADI qualified and plan to do more diving as I travel.

Only one thing to mar all this; the dive master we where diving with all week was lost at sea with his girlfriend for 27 hours. They where assumed to be dead but were both found alive and well 40 km from their dive site.

They had gone down over 50m and got caught in strong under-currents. They hadnÕt taken a buoy to mark their spot because the line was too short. So, dive master or not you should always follow the rules, well that what we where told!

OK I'm off for now will send another update soon hope all is well would be good to hear from you all soon .

Cheers Steve

Kilamanjaro, posted 27/7/02

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The now familiar sound of one of the porters bringing round the early morning tea woke me up, but this time it was different. We where about to attempt the final assualt via the Western Breach; upto KIBO the crater rim (all 900 m. of it) and then finally onto UHURU at 5985 m., the highest point on Kilimanjaro.

I opened the tent and passed out my mug it was filled with steaming sweet tea, the time was 12 midnight. We had agreed to go at 1:00 am, the first group of 4 could be seen, their head torches bobbing in the cold darkness.

The air was still and clear it clawed at my throat as I breathed those first few morning gasps until my breathing was settled to the altitude and cold once again. The moon was full, casting shadows over the lower scree slopes before illuminating the daunting rock band, the higher scree slopes and finally at 5600 m. KIBO, the creater rim.

Earlier in the day we had approached via the Lava Tower, a huge cube of stone standing at 4500 m. I had climbed to its summit after lunch with John, Kate and Matt our Guide leading the way. Joanne and Peter had gone on to base camp. Dwarfed by the landscape, their tiny figures could be seen by us as they climbed the steep ascent to our final resting place before the summit. John had not been feeling well, his stomach was giving him trouble during the stop for lunch and he took a turn for the worst as we entered the Arrow hut. He went to his tent and instantly fell asleep.

I was feeling good, I had reached 4700 m., 100 m. higher than my last aborted attempt. I felt strong and well-up for the final climb.

Kate had been so focused on that final haul that she could not even recollect any of the trail we had just been on, she felt well and showed no effects of altitude.

I drank the warm tea while I followed my ritual of sorting my day clothing on one side of the tent and the stuff for the porters on the other, I got dressed and climbed out into the cold. The mess tent was tense, as porridge and toast were served up for breakfast, it was eaten in silence. John had managed to get himself together after a bad nights sleep. He still had no apetite for food and he was dreading the climb ahead. He had admitted to being nervous about it at the Moir hut and after seeing the breach the previous day this had only added to the tension.

Joanne and Peter where about to embark on their greatest challenge to date. They had only started to hill walk in 1991, now they were both retired and were willing to put their bodies through hell to achieve their ultimate goal. Katewas relaxed and ready to go, she had already gained experience at high altitude after spending time in India.

I was bloody nervous not because of the physical demands of climbing but because of the effects of altitude on my body. Failure had been the last thing on my mind at Mt Kenya and with only 300 m. to go I had to abort the climb because of a bloody nose that would not stop due to the altitude. I had invested my savings into a year of climbing mountains and to date the mountains had won. HOW would my body react?.

Matt called out 10 minutes we all carried out last minute checks on water head torches etc.

Message ends but judging by the photos, he made itÉ

MT. Kenya, posted 20/7/02

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Just got back fantastic trip to MT Kenya; just one problem, I was not able to summit due to my nose bleeding, the guide was very worried about it and insisted that I go down to the Skipton Camp 500 metres lower and wait for the group. I was gutted, only 300 m. from the summit. I felt OK, no fatigue or illness but at 4600 m. they cannot take any chances.

Mt Kili will be OK as IÕm going to take a drug called Diamox. Its used by all mountaineers at altitude if the time available to acclimatise is short. It aids the absorbtion of oxygen and should reduce any pressure from the thin air. I did not take it for this mountain because I wanted to see how my body reacted without drug assistance, all of the other guys are already on it! One thing, I did swim in a lake at the camp just before this happened. I was at 4000 m. It was very cold and I donÕt think that it helped me. In fact it did cause a head ache, hey you live and learn, stupid really.

The group I am with is very small, 5 of us in total; a couple from Nottingham, Joanne and Peter; John from Mitchigan and Kate from Bristol; good people. All have climbed at altitude before. The route we took into the summit was breath taking. We were the only group doing this approach. The best camp was at Micklson Lake at 4000 m. It was in the basin of an old volcano that had breached one of its sides, the lake spilled out in a water fall with a drop about 500 ft. This was the lake I had my swim in.

The following day was a tough climb out of the Basin upto Simba Tarn at 4600 m.; it was on this leg that I had my nose bleed.

My boots have bedded in well and those liner socks my girlfriend Jo bought me are just great. The guide is using the same head torch Dave and Debs bought me, all good gear!

Have just arrived in Arusha in Tanzania, a small town full of travellers either on safari or going to climb Kili. Now that Matt the guide has seen all of us in action we have just changed our route. We're going to climb the Western Breach from a place called theLava Tower.

Western BreachÉ what a great name that is; just hope my nose holds out, I'm sure it will. Am planning to cut my pack weight down and take things slower to give my body more time to adjust to the change in altitude.

Tomorrow we climb to 3000 m, a gain of 1500m. from our current position. We will approach through the jungle on the south side and then climb into the alpine zone where we will be camping. We wil then gain another 1000m. and camp before entering the Western Breach. Will write again in 8 days and give you all the next updateÉ

Cheers,

Steve

Kenya via Zurich, posted 11/7/02

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HI

Bloody hell I'm here É

My Bro was a big help yesterday he put up with my madness, had I forgotten anything? He dropped me off at the airport. How I got all the stuff into the bags I donÕt know but I'll find out soon if it was too much.

The flight was delayed by 2 hours so I got to Zurich at 9:30pm, we left at 10:20pm; good flight, not a bad movie; Morgan freeman in something I'd never heard of, bit like Jagged Edge. The food was OK, usual pre-cooked fair. I did sleep a little but not much, I spent most of the time listening to the Ali sound track on minidisc, good music for Africa. I did my stretching excercises and watched the other passengers sleep. Anyone awake must of thought, Òwhat a nutterÓÉ arrived in Nairobi at 9:30am.

Taxis were hassling for a fare so I was helped by a lady working for a local travel agent, Amicabre. She said she would take us to somewhere that would give independant adviceÉ and they did!! very helpfull. I got a cab to the Hotel Boulevard, Thuku Road and confirmed that KE had booked my room. (The 'us' was a young couple from Latvia on a 2 month tour of Kenya, we had planned to share a cab but they had a tight budget and went to a camp site instead). So I got to the hotel at 10:30, went to bed, and got up at 2:30pm, already to sign-on to send this email.

Words ©Steve Hammond 2002

Pix ©John Gabbett 2002