At 2720m we sit at Mandara Hut, popcorn in hand, a steaming brew giving our bones warmth and his and hers sponge baths ticked of the to do list. There is a great sense of comradeship of those who walk to the roof top of Africa. Virgin walkers, like ourselves are welcomed into an exclusive club where secret nods of acknowledgement, salutation and even yoga like mantras are exchanged by those that we pass.
Two evacuations were witnessed on our walk today, both succumbing to altitude sickness. One lay rigid, stuffed into a sleeping bag, surrounded by black garbage bags, duck tapped together. The other, thrown on a wooden flatbed strapped to a device looking like an extended tricycle. We looked at each other and a realisation hit home that we weren't out on a picnic stroll, but a walk where people succumb to altitude sickness and where some even give their life to the mountain.
The hike on day one, itself was not demanding;however, it was the altitude that drained you. The walk traversed through rainforest flora,which reminded us both of Cradle Mountain in Tasmania and the Blue Arrow of home. A short aclimatisation walk to Maundi Crater provided us an opportunity to wonder into a mystical forest, where Proteas bloomed, big bearded old men trees swayed in the wind and Panda monkeys swung from the canopy. The only thing missing was Bilbo and his crew.
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