The idea had been swirling around us for months, if not years. After all our upland trekking in Ethiopia, this was the time to go for it. So we climbed Mount Kilimanjaro (5,895 metres).
Serious altitude was new to Phil. We kept our head for heights by remembering to eat, constantly sipping water and steadily plodding up and up.
The scores of other climbers clambering up the iconic peak might qualify as Africa's most obnoxious wildlife. Litter, smelly loos and bad tempers marred the basic campsites en route. We tended to hide in our tent and focus on the spectacular views.
At midnight, a trail of head torches form a procession of pain up the final 1,500 metres. As the grind continued we overtook increasing numbers of climbers foundering on the narrow trail. Step by step, "pole-pole", we made progress. A scramble up to the final ridge on steep, loose gravel was made even more horrendous by a bitter wind lashing us with hail stones. We made it though. Look!
n.b. We would like to thank British Airways. The BA blankets we pinched almost made up for our lack of branded mountain gear. 
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