Scenes from a Leisurely Hike

So, it took no fewer than ten porters to maintain camp for Scott and I—carrying a portable toilet, dining tent, sleeping tent, and glacial water from the various babbling brooks we passed. At that rate, including the ~70 to 100 people that summit Kili each day, I estimate that the mountain employs about 7,000 people on an ongoing basis. Not bad.

Kilimanjaro

I'm on the plane home now, somewhere over the ocean between Athens and Rome, and the short breath and stunning glaciers are turning into a bit if a hazy memory, but this picture says otherwise.

The first Westerner to hike it was a German professor from the university of Leipzig in 1889. It took him no fewer than 6 weeks to make the ascent. It's a marvel of modernity that I can hike it all in 6 days (though it's more like 5, since we left at noon and got back at 11am).

In any event, it's a magical place—the locals used to climb it to commune with God, and there they found a cold, mysterious, magical white powder that turned into water when they tried to remove it from the mountain. Crazy times. Crazy place.

19,340ft above sea level I stood on monday morning at 7am. 10am on Friday morning I'll be in JD orientation at Harvard Law School—what a contrast. Hopefully jet lag isn't too bad coming home!

African Guesthouses

So, I'm staying at an African Guesthouse in Zanzibar's Stone Town (the old town, built all in limestone). It's a crazy sort of place—old mattresses, old refrigerators, old chairs and tables.

It does make me wonder; everything here looks well used; was it ever new? I've never been in a more modest looking place like this where everything is new (except perhaps, the Hotel Ibis, in France—but 1. that's continental Europe and 2. they had much different style items). So here's the question; did they buy these used, were they new once and have just worn out, or did they come out of the factory old?

Either way, the Guesthouses all seem to be non-descript and about the same price level; $15-$20 per night, including a fairly large breakfast. I'm amazed that a place like this exists in the world. I also got a tour down to see dolphins (an hour drive plus a three hour boat tour / snorkeling with the dolphins and a large lunch) for $25. Eating out can cost as little as $6, including tip & tax, at a fancy restaurant. I went crazy at an italian restaurant last night with some British girls I met on the dolphin tour and we dropped $10 each on pasta, pizza, fondue and ice cream.

I suppose that makes the $100 entry fee for US Passport Holders make a bit more sense; it's about as much as I will spend (all in) for the other 3 days I'm here; the government wants it's piece of the action, too.

It's 7:22am. The street below me is bustling; it sounds like a vendor rolling his cart into position, a boda-boda (small motorcycle) cruising out to visit a friend) and friends greeting in the street. It's bustling till about midnight, but I sleep with earplugs in and I sleep like a walrus for the first few hours, so it doesn't bother me. I do, however, wake up when the mosque across the street blares the call to prayer at 5:30 every morning. Come to Pray! Come to Pray! it calls to me. I pray it will stop and I can pray at my leisure.

Today (though I probably won't get to send this post till much later—today is Tuesday August 16, in case anyone is curious) I'm headed off on a Spice Tour to see some spice plantations and the old slave caves (popular because of the powerful alliteration? We'll see. I'll report in tonight). Then this afternoon I am headed to the East Coast (no, not Boston) to see some beaches (I'll probably read my MLK autobiography), before I catch an 8:20am flight tomorrow (read: this time tomorrow I'll be in an airport waiting for a flight to Kilimanjaro—the tallest mountain in Africa!).

Why will I hike it? To quote Sir Edmund Hilary: "Because it's there."

Prop Planes Still Unnerve Me

I have to admit, despite having flown a few by now, I'm still a bit unnerved by the thought of a piece of metal spinning fast enough to hold me 20,000+ feet in the air, yet here I am, cruising over the Indian Ocean to the mysterious Zanzibar (which I first heard of through Muppet Treasure Island, and thought it was a fake place).

Still, the thrill of traveling to new places keeps me going. Onward and upward!