Day 14

At ten to six I needed to go to the loo. Dawn was just breaking and I winkled Alan out of the sleeping bag to come and see. It was beautiful and we watched both peaks turn pink, taking photos, too. Moshi, the town we saw lit up last night is under the cloud, but later we see that it is in the clear and the plains beyond, where they grow sugar cane and maize. After breakfast, Hashim lets us walk along the track at our own pace - there is nowhere else to go. We plod away - Alan leaping on as usual when left to his own devices. It’s up hill all the way, relentless and at 9.30 we have breasted the ridge with Hashim in the lead and Alan tucked in behind again. Now we descend the other side and can see the trail across the plain to a second high ridge. I'm thinking how glad I am that we had the extra day staying at Karanga, as to do Barranco to Barafu and then straight on to the summit that night would be madness for us!

Gradually we approach the second ridge, which we slowly climb and as we do we see Barafu camp strung out ahead of us, balanced precariously on the ridge. This is about 4500m and so we still have quite an uphill climb to our camp which is about three quarters of the way up. We pass tents of today’s summiteers, some occupied by sleeping bodies, others awaiting occupation. Our team are still putting up the tents as its still only 10.45, so we perch on some convenient rocks supping water and nibbling dried cranberries. Amazingly our friends the alpine chats and the 4 striped mice can be seen scurrying about. Hashim tells us that the camp is actually about 4640m. The wind is incredibly strong and relentless and our frail mess tent threatens to blow away, but it is weighted down with plenty of stones. The central pole rattles against the table and we can only fill the mugs half full or they splash over. It’s like being on a ship in a heavy sea! Any water for the camp has to be brought up from the streams at the bottom of the ridge where we crossed mountain streams of crystal clear water. They go leaping down the path with empty containers and plod back up again with full ones.

We rest in our tent, preparing the extra layers for tonight’s marathon, and we hear people passing by the tent as they come down the mountain, weary from the effort. 11.45 and Manas calls us to lunch. Its mie in chicken broth and for the first time we can just about finish the pot. It’s cooked just right and very tasty! Manas then chases to our tent to sleep. It is hot and stuffy, but a gale blows outside; we snooze, and comment on feeling a little headachy, paracetamol to the rescue and plenty of tea, of course. Dinner is served around 5.30 and it is stodgy spag again. We have some, but it feels very heavy in our stomachs. The soup was great and so was the fruit, then we return to the tent, put on our layers, apart from the very top and our shoes; and we try to sleep.