16/10/2026
KILIMANJARO!
Kilimanjaro dominates everything. The highest freestanding mountain in the world not only soars above the surrounding savannah like an ominous godlike entity, it appears in every ad and billboard promoting Tanzania and even has a b**r named in its honor; “can’t climb it, drink it…”
The mountain is the first image one thinks of when Africa is mentioned, elephants grazing against the backdrop of the great one. The mountain has become the unspeaking spokesman for Africa. It represents its power, mystique and to many its unconquerability.
Sure, like the wobbly kneed colonials before us we stand on Uhuru (5,895 meters), its highest point for 15 minutes and think we have done it, pretend that the mountain bowed its head just for us. Despite it being battered by titanic tectonic shifts, fierce weather conditions and explosive volcanic eruptions, we like to pretend that the mountain went down on its creaky, ancient knee and said; “dude you beat me…”. We fly our banners, take a selfie, call our loved ones and return bragging to the comfort of cotton wool land. The mountain remains. Battered, surviving and enduring as always.
I caught my first glimpse of Kilimanjaro whilst working as a mountain guide in East Africa. I pretended to everyone who would listen that I had no desire to climb it. That the mighty mountain was for trekkers, not a climber like myself. To be honest, my desire was driven more by the state of my empty pockets than my willingness to attempt it. I made a tiny wage guiding clients on Mount Kenya and my savings didn’t allow for a quick dash to tick Africa’s highest. Still, some folk believed my purist ideals and I persevered with Africa’s second (and third and fourth) highest mountain for a few more years before a British team of trekkers asked me if I was interested in guiding them up the mightiest mountain on the continent. Was I ever!
On my first gig on the mountain, I was fortunate to meet the young porters who would later become my regular trusted guides. From them I learned that the mountain meant life in every sense of the word. Not only did they derive enough income to feed and clothe their families from the gigs we did together but the mountain created its own weather system which regularly topped up the local streams and wells and watered their crops. It gave rise to dozens of endemic plant and animal species and the mountains fertile volcanic soil allowed their crops to thrive. Kilimanjaro enhanced the prospects of their kid’s future. The mountain to them meant more than a selfie. It was their life source in every way imaginable.
I have reached the summit of Kilimanjaro officially more than 64 times. Officially every single team I have guided has reached the summit but unofficially I would at times, sneak out of the high camp after my clients had retired for the night (and ensuring that my colleagues had their fingers on the pulse) and climb to the summit of the mountain just as the last rays of sunshine broke through the clouds.
There I would stand. Alone. The highest person on the continent of Africa. Watching as the sun set over the vast savannah below me. Thinking; “… life is too good to be true”. And sincerely hoping that when I returned to this place in a few hours later with my clients, that they’d understand too.
https://www.360-expeditions.com/expeditions/kilimanjaro-lemosho-route/
