At dinner the previous day, Juma had "briefed" us as to what would happen that night. We were expecting to start towards the peak at around 12am...however, Juma told the group (whilst I was asleep in my tent) that as I was so slow, he would walk alone with me starting off at 11.30am and the others would catch me up. When Rob told me of the plan, I instantly and resolutely refused to go with Juma. Rob and I had planned to walk together for moral support and I couldn't believe that the one thing that might have got me to the top was being denied me. Apparently Juma feared that Rob would get too cold walking with me and wouldn't listen even when Rob assured him he'd be fine. However, after a very emotional night, I had convinced myself that I would give it a try, even though I knew in my heart that my exhausted body still wasn't strong enough. Then at about 10pm Rob woke with an explosive headache and nausea and realised that his chance of reaching the summit was fading away. He had been behaving oddly all evening...overexcited, talking utter rubbish...acting as if he were drunk. We had assumed that was just Rob...we were used to seeing him like that but as not a drop of Kilimanjaro beer had passed his lips in days, in retrospect, these were signs of AMS. Once Rob accepted that there was no way he could attempt the summit in this state, we made a pact that we would stay together and come back to attempt the mountain another time. We were awoken by the sun rising over Mawenzi peak...we should have seen this from the summit, but it was still beautiful from our tent. Disappointed as we both were at not making it all the way, we knew we had made the correct decision when both Alex and Laura experienced excrutiating altitude sickness at the summit. Laura had told us horror stories of people admitted to the Medical Centre where she had worked, including some fatalities and we just decided that our health was too important to take the risk. After all, the mountain would always be here long after we no longer were. Summit day
At dinner the previous day, Juma had "briefed" us as to what would happen that night. We were expecting to start towards the peak at around 12am...however, Juma told the group (whilst I was asleep in my tent) that as I was so slow, he would walk alone with me starting off at 11.30am and the others would catch me up. When Rob told me of the plan, I instantly and resolutely refused to go with Juma. Rob and I had planned to walk together for moral support and I couldn't believe that the one thing that might have got me to the top was being denied me. Apparently Juma feared that Rob would get too cold walking with me and wouldn't listen even when Rob assured him he'd be fine. However, after a very emotional night, I had convinced myself that I would give it a try, even though I knew in my heart that my exhausted body still wasn't strong enough. Then at about 10pm Rob woke with an explosive headache and nausea and realised that his chance of reaching the summit was fading away. He had been behaving oddly all evening...overexcited, talking utter rubbish...acting as if he were drunk. We had assumed that was just Rob...we were used to seeing him like that but as not a drop of Kilimanjaro beer had passed his lips in days, in retrospect, these were signs of AMS. Once Rob accepted that there was no way he could attempt the summit in this state, we made a pact that we would stay together and come back to attempt the mountain another time. We were awoken by the sun rising over Mawenzi peak...we should have seen this from the summit, but it was still beautiful from our tent. Disappointed as we both were at not making it all the way, we knew we had made the correct decision when both Alex and Laura experienced excrutiating altitude sickness at the summit. Laura had told us horror stories of people admitted to the Medical Centre where she had worked, including some fatalities and we just decided that our health was too important to take the risk. After all, the mountain would always be here long after we no longer were. 
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