We crossed the border between Malawi and Tanzania on September 30 after a long and arduous "trek." We had spent the night in Karonga, Malawi - the last somewhat major town (read: has post office and sells Coca Cola...)in the northermost area of the country, and were anxious to get to northern Tanzania. In Karonga, we woke up early to have a good breakfast because we knew we'd be force-fasting all day due to the chicken-minibus transit reality. We packed up, sat down and ordered eggs, chips and tea at the local "restaurant." ...But after an hour of waiting with absolutely no other customer in the entire place, our concern was mounting. When we finally asked, the waiter told us that their electricity went out right after we came in and they were almost ready with a fire to cook everything. We unfortunately decided to wait a little longer, because after another 45 minutes, we had had enough and just as we were getting ready to walk out - here comes our "food." From the looks of it, they had poured a quart of vegetable oil in a pan, cracked a few eggs in it, briefly waved it over a match then poured the ENTIRE thing on a plate. One look and we were out the door. Although we weren't able to eat the whole day, we had to laugh at that one. Sometimes eating nothing is so much more fulfilling than the other African option...

Once across the border, it was amazing to us how quickly the landscape changed. Paved roads! Painted lines on the roads! And although Paige doesn't believe me, I swear I even saw a guard rail around the side of a cliff. Truly culture shock. We took a minibus from the border to Mbeya - a somewhat large city north of Zambia on the Tazara Rail line. The train to Dar only runs twice a week, so we were forced to stay in Mbeya for four days until the next scheduled train. At first glance, we were intrigued to be there - instead of "Coke," "Sprite," and "Fanta" signs everywhere you look, we saw "Pepsi" and "7-up" - and didn't know how to deal with this new stimuli. Soft drink companies - and especially Coke - support and fund nearly every aspect of advertising in all the African towns we've visited. From street signs to business signs to school signs, Coke funds the sign and gets to put their insignia everywhere like billboards. It is obnoxious, but not to the point that we're not drinking WAY too much Coke. Because we are. We did have to laugh at one huge sign that said, "BUY COKE NOW!"

Anyway, we took the overnight train to Dar and immediately settled in our room at the Safari Hotel. The hotel sits off a remote alley behind other buildings and a vacant lot. While we were there, this vacant lot was turned into an amazing scene - a construction company had hired 100 locals to mix and carry bowls of cement up 5 levels in the site next door - so all day every day here were these 100 guys - naked except for boxer shorts - literally running back and forth carrying cement, covered from head to toe in white powdered cement dust and sweat. It was difficult not to stare, because if they had charged money to watch we would have been in the front row...with a couple Cokes...

Dar is a dirty, crowded, chaotic city. I liked it. For one thing, we spent three whole days in the air conditioned goodness of the cybercafe, but we also were able to enjoy some of the benefits of city life that we hadn't had in awhile. Fresh pineapples, avocados and coconuts for nearly every meal, and even a couple "splurges" at two good local retaurants. Whoever designed the city layout must have been drinking too much Safari Lager, because the streets run every which way except perpendicular, and you find yourself looping back to where you were 5 minutes before and it can get frustrating.

After a few days, we were ready to move on to Moshi near the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and took a "luxury" bus (read: chickens ride on top, not inside) 8 hours west. We checked into our hostel (the YMCA), then immediately went out to check with a few trekking companies about attempting to climb Kilimanjaro. We walked into town and were immediately overtaken by a tout. We tried to blow him off, but he was not giving up, so we ducked into a store for a quick drink (you guessed it - Coke). When the coast was clear, we sneaked back out and approached the office of a company that other travellers had recommended. Before we got to the door, another tout raced up to us all out of breath and tried to make us come with him and his flying sweat and spittle instead of going into his competitor's office. We tore ourselves away, went inside and had another breather. Once we got the needed information, we went back out only to be beseiged by four more touts. We were feeling pretty damn white. We kept saying, "No thank you, we're not interested," but that only spurred them on and they suddenly became really aggressive. We walked faster, leaving them a little behind, when Paige felt that we were being followed by a scary looking guy - slick and devious. We slowed down to see if he'd pass - he did and we turned around walking away quickly. Instantly he was right in front of us trying to get us to come to his trekking office. We were disgusted, so we dove into a bar to get a beer and isolate ourselves. As we were sitting there, a guy walked up to the bar, bought a beer, sat down next to us and tried to get us to sign up with his trekking company. Aaaaaaaaaaa!!! We literally ran out of there, but like moths to the flame five more touts quickly surrounded us. One of them - the Hyper Tout - was furious at us for blowing him off by saying, "No thank you," and started grabbing us while cursing and yelling. OK, now we were pretty concerned. We found two businessmen who walked with us, threatening to call the police on them all. Finally we thanked them and started the last little walk back to the hostel when out of the blue, Hyper Tout comes riding up on a bicycle all out of breath and flustered, screaming, "WHY YOU CALL POLICE? YOU BAD PEOPLE! YOU MEAN MAN! I HATE YOU!," and then added as an afterthought, "So when are you going to come to my trekking office...?"

Mount Kilimanjaro...how to possibly do this experience justice? I think it may be impossible - it's truly beyond words. Kili is the largest mountain on the continent of Africa - its peak is 19,344 feet, and it's the tallest mountain in the world that you can theorhetically hike up without any additional climbing gear.

Paige and I were teamed up with another couple from London - Jo and Charles - and along with our two guides and eight porters, began our five day trek up the mountain on a sunny Thursday morning. The first day was really exciting...just starting out on such a grandiose goal was an amazing feeling. That hike was about 3-4 hours through dense jungles and beautiful scenery. I think that undoubtedly the highlight of that first day was lunch. Hot and sweaty, we sat down on the side of the path and our guide passed out our food - "trekking lunches" specially packed in a white box that was nearly opaque from the ample grease by Chrisburger of Moshi: a fried egg hamburger, a deep fried meat pastry, and a fried sausage that was then tantalizingly deep fried. Deep. This equivalent of the African Power Bar did not exactly inspire unlimited energy in us, and we were glad to finally reach the first set of huts.

The second day was a six hour hike and a 1000 meter increase in altitude - a pretty difficult day. The scenery was unbelieveable - we must have passed through 3 different landscapes - it was all totally breathtaking. By the time we reached the second set of huts, we were pooped and happy to sit down with some tea and bopgorn. Lunch that day was much better - instead of the African Power Bar, we had margarine sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, and a unique fruit called "wine fruit" that Paige effectively described as eating raw brains.

The third day was a killer - another six hour hike and a 1200 meter incline - but this time we were so far up in altitude (ending at 15,520 feet) that no vegetation grew and the landscape resembled the Pathfinder pictures of Mars. Desolate and depressing - but still very exciting. We arrived here at 3pm - exhausted and drained from the altitude. Charles, Jo and I were all taking Diamox for the acclimitization, but Paige decided to go Diamox-commando, and hope that her body could handle it. Unfortunately it couldn't, and she was absolutely miserable with nausea and a horrible headache. We were scheduled to leave at midnight for the seven hour hike to the summit, but at that altitude you simply can't sleep, and it's VERY cold. We had to lie in our sleeping bags with our boots and batteries so that they wouldn't freeze up. At midnight, we got dressed in every piece of clothing that we had: boots, 2 socks, long underwear, 2 pants, 3 shirts, 2 jackets, balaclava, hat and 2 gloves. It was time to attempt to reach the summit. Yi.

Paige was feeling even worse by this time, so she grabbed a couple of porters and hiked back down in the moonlight to the next level of huts - immediately feeling better due to the lower altitude. Charles, Jo, the 2 guides and I all began the hell that was the last day of climbing. For five hours in the pitch dark we scaled about 3000 feet almost straight up on a slope resembling deep sand, gravel, ash and pebbles. It was very hard, because at that altitude you can't breathe enought oxygen and you move very slow - it was a slog. Finally and unbelieveably we reached Gillman's point at about 18,000 feet just as day broke. It was too cold to rest, so we immediately headed for Uhuru Peak - another 2 hour climb.

[Paige here, yes I was incredibly bummed to not make the peak, but soooo happy to descend to relieve the pain almost instantly. And I got to spend 3 hours with two very nice, non-English-speaking Tanzanian porters with huge heavy bags balanced on their heads who kept smiling and turning around to look at me to make sure I had not fainted or anything...They even tucked me into a hut, brought me tea, and doted on me like two over-protective grannies].

We had reached the crater, and now we hiked around the outside rim on ice resembling 3-4 foot stalagmites - balancing our steps from ice-point to ice-point...all the time climbing agonizingly uphill. The scenery was phenominal, and I took a lot of pictures, but it was undoubtedly the hardest thing I've ever attempted to do in my life. Finally, at 7:45am I reached Uhuru: 19,344 feet!

I was surprised to find myself sobbing in joy, and I can't possibly describe the deep sense of personal accomplishment. I truly learned a lot about myself that day. Again, words cannot possibly do this justice.

Then began our descent - what took over seven hours to climb took only two to go down. On the scree - the ashy/sandy/gravelly slope - we literally ran downhill at breakneck speed for an hour. It was amazing that I could walk at all considering that I was barely able to take 6 inch steps only a short while before.

Over the next day all of us made the descent - walking over 30 km in two days: downhill. This was a lot harder than we had even considered. By the time we got back to Moshi, we were so sore we could barely move. A shower was an amazing thing, and we both spent over an hour each scrubbing the dirt and ash off our worn bodies. I think I used an entire bar of soap and STILL didn't get all the grime off.

But boy did we feel good!

OK, that storytelling drained me - sorry about the extensive length, but I just get a little excited...

We'll update again from Italy in early November - we're off today for the island of Lamu on the Kenyan coast. Nairobi has been surprisingly beautiful and fun, and we're just a little sorry not to be able to spend more time here. One side note, we found ourselves near the bomb site of the American Embassy yesterday and decided to walk past. We can't tell you how horrible this scene is. Reality is so much more real than reading or hearing about it, and it really affected us. Every building within site of the rubble of the former Embassy has windows blown out, twisted metal and black smokey bomb residue everywhere. Rubble and death seem to permeate eveywhere around the site - it really put it all in perspective. Just thought you might appreciate the closeness of it all...

Thanks for listening, we are happy, well and still deeply in love...

Grizd & Fajita