When Tanya and I arrived at the Kilimanjaro airport, we were yet to plot our next move. We found a travel company that offered a free ride to their office in Arusha, but unfortunately a not so free Kilimanjaro package. Millions of Tanzania Shillings (though that’s not saying much). After some research, we learned that the National Park fees account for most of the sum, so we weren’t being charged the ignorant tourist, fresh-from-the-airport price. We discussed the 6-day itinerary and the extensive packing list before being dropped off at a nearby hotel.

I was shocked to learn that Arusha is the third largest city in Tanzania. It reminded me of India, with the complex layers of life and the tangible impression that everyone’s just trying to get by. The town boasts two claims, though guidebooks beg to differ: 1) that it’s the safari capital of Africa and 2) that it’s in the center of the continent, between Cairo and Cape Town. In any case, it was our base for the trek.

We were picked up early the next morning and driven to Kilimanjaro National Park, where we met our 1 chef, 2 guides, and 4 porters. (I know that sounds posh, but it’s actually the typical crew for two people.) The guides, Adronis and William, presented us with the gear we lacked, including heavy-duty boots, walking sticks, and super stylish balaclavas. We then handed our big packs over to the porters and strapped on our daypacks, ready to attempt Africa’s highest mountain.

Day 1: Marangu Gate (6,100 ft) to Mandara, 9,020 ft
Out of the various routes, Tanya and I chose Marangu. It’s the most moderate out of the bunch, and therefore the most popular with tourists. The option of purchasing soda at the huts along the way is responsible for the trail’s nickname, “The Coca Cola Route.” We passed through the Marangu Gate at one o’clock, determined but not cocky. The two variables – weather and altitude – stop the majority of hikers from reaching the summit, no matter how old or how fit.

We passed a few people at the start, and soon learned that everyone says something different. Positive. Negative. Encouraging. Intimidating. “You won’t be able to sleep at Kibo.” “You start to lose your appetite at Horombo.” “Don’t let your guides push you.” And so on. The kind of stuff that gets into your head, no matter how genuine the intention may be. Tanya and I often flashed a fake smile and stuck to our philosophy: one step at a time, one day at a time. We agreed we’d rather be the last ones to make it than the first ones not to. During peak season, I’m sure such subtle competition ruins a lot of people’s chances, urging them to go at a faster pace.

The trek to Mandara took 4 hours. Four hours of weaving through rainforest, avoiding the mossy limbs of whomping willows. When we thought we were walking slowly, we walked slower. When we thought we drank enough water, we drank more. Our bodies became increasingly high maintenance the higher we went, though today wasn’t as bad as we expected.

When we walked into our small hut, we found a Japanese guy sitting cross-legged on one of the beds. Tanya and I thought we might have gone to the wrong one, but it was no mistake. While we arranged our bags, he pulled a small guitar out from his pack. I barely had room for gloves and he pulled out a guitar. With an unvarying smile, he began to gleefully strum. I asked his name and he exclaimed, “TAKA!!” as if he was shouting at a surprise birthday party.

Day 2: Mandara to Horombo, 12,487 ft
At 8:30, we said bye to Taka and headed for Horombo, detouring at first to explore Maundi Crater. The way two colors blend, the scenery changed from dense rainforest to open moorlands. We walked towards a mass of clouds the whole day, though they assured us the mountain is back there somewhere. We got hopeful when the stampedes of white began to gallop elsewhere, but the weather was impossible to control. Rapid and sudden changes, Mother Nature throwing temper tantrums.

When it finally cleared up in the evening, we got our first view of Kilimanjaro. The mountain quickly dominated the landscape, and put hilly neighbors to shame. I loved the glacier that rests like a beret on the top left. In the other direction, we could see Kenya.

There were times when I felt that the trek was strenuous and my load was heavy, but passing porters replaced my moans with astonishment. I simply can’t comprehend how they balance such shapes and sizes as they race up and down the mountain. I marveled at their abilities, the way we often do with ants – captivated by a proportionally enormous breadcrumb moving steadily along the sidewalk. Despite their burdens, the porters never failed to exchange a “jambo jambo” (hello), “pole pole” (take it easy), or “twende twende” (let’s go).

We checked in to Horombo at 5, with tired legs and aching shoulders. Still, Tanya and I were waiting for the altitude to hit us, as fellow hikers said it would.

Day 3: Acclimatization day, to 13,120 ft and back
A day of rest is highly recommended. Although we spent another night at Horombo, we didn’t spend the day there. William and Adronis led us to Zebra Rock, a site at one third of the altitude we would reach the following day. We hung out at the striped boulder for a while, amazed to hear “The Entertainer” tune on William’s cell phone.

As for the meals, let’s see:
Breakfast – goopy porridge that looked pre-digested, stale toast (more so every day), fried eggs drenched in oil (that we secretly tossed out back), beans, and fruit (less every day)
Lunch – carrot or bell pepper sandwich, banana, chicken wing, rock hard muffin, and juice box
Dinner – vegetable soup, rice or potatoes, some kind of stew (we were afraid to ask), vegetables, and fruit

We also had tea, milo, and popcorn at various times. And tons of water, of course. My crystal clear urine was always a healthy indication!

Day 4: Horombo to Kibo (15,498 ft) to Gilman’s (18,696 ft) to Uhuru (19,336 ft) to Kibo
It was tough going to bed at 7, but William warned “long day tomorrow.” Indeed it was.

We left at 8:30 and hiked past the last water point to reach Kibo saddle, a broad desert zone between the two peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi. Just as Tanya and I were getting exhausted, we ran in to TAKA!! and got a burst of energy. He was on his way back down, having gone from Horombo straight to the summit, without spending a night at Kibo first. We were incredibly impressed, and laughed at how crazy he was as we finished the trek to Kibo. When we got there at one o’clock, however, we decided to do the same. Neither Tanya nor I brought appropriate cold weather gear, and we figured it would be as good a time as any. We wanted to just get it over with, instead of lying around the camp thinking about it.

A half an hour later, we departed for the summit. A half an hour after that, Tanya and I exchanged “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” looks, followed by “Well, there’s no turning back now” looks. I tried to match the stabs of my ski poles with my steps, and create some sort of momentum. For the majority of the climb, I found myself moving to Eminem’s “you only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime ….” My ghetto Kili anthem.

Things went downhill as we went uphill. A light headache became pounding. It took more breaths to get less air. The zigzag path seemed endless, and glancing up was too discouraging. We stopped for breaks now and then, but Tanya and I only felt worse at those times.

The steepest part brought us to Gilman’s point, on the rim of a crater you’d never know was back there. There’s a congratulatory sign and a spectacular view, but it’s not the official mountaintop. Only one in five continue to Uhuru Peak. Rough Guide warns: “Those 90 minutes (or two hours if you’re really whacked) may not sound like much, but will likely be the hardest, most painful and – with luck – most rewarding 90 minutes of you life.” Even before Day 1, Tanya and I declared that we’d have to be dying not to trudge on to the finish.

After a few photos and some lovely vomiting from Tanya, we moved on. It took us 60 minutes, not 90, and the ones right before Gilman’s were by far worse. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. We could see the last sign planted into the distant glacier. Just a few more steps (and a few more vomits) and we were there, standing on the top of Kilimanjaro at sunset. We were light-headed, nauseous, and exhausted, but the accomplishment was exhilarating. The entire continent seemed to extend from down below; it’s no wonder they call the mountain “The Rooftop of Africa.”

No matter how invincible we felt, temperatures fall well below zero at the highest point in Africa. We headed back down after a few more photos, just as the dormant volcano became lost in the night. It took us 5 hours to get up, and 2 to get down. Adronis grabbed Tanya, William grabbed me, and we slid down the stony face. No more zigzag shit – we bee lined out of there, with only a small circle of light at our feet from headlamps. Rocks tumbled down with us and gathered in our boots, as Tanya and I stumbled and fell for two hours. Our poor guides were practically dragging corpses.

At 8:30 (12 hours after we left Horombo), we made it back to the lights of Kibo Hut. The other guides and porters cheered as we collapsed on the campgrounds, and welcomed us back like soldiers. My headache and Tanya’s vomiting persisted, but it was without a doubt worth it. The others in our hut were woken at midnight to start the climb, as we had originally planned to do as well.

Day 5: Kibo to Marangu Gate
What took 4 days to hike up, we went down in one. Nine hours of walking on what seemed like a dirt treadmill. Nine hours of progressive changes in scenery, from loose gravel to alpine desert to extensive grassland to rainforest to parking lot. There was a new bounce in our steps, however, as we “jambo”d the next batch of victims.

We passed through the same gate we had entered, and were given certificates and sold shirts. To celebrate our conquest of “The Coca Cola Route,” Tanya and I bought an ice-cold one for every member of the crew. We toasted and thanked, and then headed back to Arusha. Back to a bed, back to internet, back to a shower.

The morning after, this morning, is quite possibly more painful than the actual climb. Every limb aches, every piece of gear reeks. But while we’re extremely sore, we’re equally proud. We’re taking the day to recover, and then tomorrow a new adventure begins. We’ll be spending 3 days and 2 nights around the Ngorongoro Crater. I’m hoping the place is as cool as the name.

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