We left the camp in good spirits after a surprisingly comfortable night's sleep. The tent had been covered in ice when we woke and the camp looked like Christmas morning! The climb ahead of us towards the peak looked daunting to me...hundreds of tiny little figures were visible climbing higher and higher up a seemingly never ending and very steep slope. Plus, we were now out of the shade of the trees and the sun got hotter and hotter as the day progressed. I was initially stuck behind a group of people going far slower than I wanted to climb, but to pass them I had to go faster than I intended. Our guide, who I hadn't really met the previous day, had decided to walk with me as I was the slowest person in the group. At this point I felt quite grateful...I just walked at my own pace. However, when I stopped, he seemed to get a bit irritated with me. "Pole pole!" he kept saying! "Slowly slowly!" I was a bit confused, because I wasn't even walking at all at the time. It hadn't dawned on me what he meant yet...so I carried on, stopping for numerous breaks along the way, taking photographs and generally enjoying the view. As we got to the steeper sections, the guide, Juma, pulled me up by my hand almost as if I were a child in his care. I was determined to enjoy myself so I didn't take offence. As the day progressed, I felt hungry, but although we passed many other climbers eating lunch, Juma said we wouldn't stop and that the campsite wasn't far. 45 minutes later, I sat on a rock in protest and opened my lunch. I needed sustenance, even though I wasn't actually hungry and felt a bit queasy. I managed to eat a banana before we carried on. We finally made it to the campsite about 10 minutes after Rob and Alex (although they had stopped for a 45 minute lunch break) I was starting to have doubts about our guide. Shira camp was beautifully eerie...rocky terrain, almost moon-like, in the shadow of the peak on one side and overlooking the clouds below us and Mount Meru in the distance.
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