It's just over two years ago when my fourteen year old self went on an expedition to Kenya and Tanzania to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. A troupe of 11, we set out to make it to the top of Africa, 5895 metres high, and we did it. It was truly one of my greatest experiences. And now I'm going back, to Kili.
It was on our journey back to SA that my dad and I decided that we were not done with this mountain, and so this year has been a furious plan fest of trips. I have actually just arrived back from an adventure at the coast, a five day hike called the Otter Trail -which will be promptly shared when I come back, no fear.
This time though on Kilimanjaro, my brother is also coming, not to mention a familiar face from our last Kili stint, Sibusisu Vilane (pictured in first photo). We couldn't go without him, so we're not! Our flight leaves tomorrow at 13:30, our first stop, Nairobi Airport, and yes, we are aware that the entire arrivals section has burnt down. I hear the Duty Free is a table (chuckles) but apparently they're making due, so we will too. *shrugs*
I have so many wonderful memories from my trip, and I hold that land, those people -our guides and their team, and the people in both Tanzania and Kenya- in my heart. It was that raw earthiness to both the countries and its peoples that struck me to my core, and it was there where I realized that part of my Calling is to help people, and to be a humanitarian.
Suddenly it feels like I was there yesterday, and the mountain and the two lands it watches over seem to be calling me back, back home.
It's going to be incredible.