Apologies for the lack of updates but I've been slumming it in Los Angeles! I was out there for a Doctor Who convention - it's a very long story that's explained much better here - and while I had an amazing time I had to sacrifice my training regime for the dizzy heights of a 3-star hotel in the middle of an airport. I admit that the furthest I managed to walk during the whole trip was the distance from the lifts to the bar - and I also admit that I succumbed to the odd cigarette or twenty. The only excuse I can give is that my nicotine patches were vacuum-sealed and I didn't have any scissors, but even I know that's lame. However, I did manage a short sprint on the way back home, thanks to BA's incredibly optimistic flight connection calculations. Even Dwain Chambers would have struggled - especially when he got to the fourteenth security check of the day.
Anyway, while I was away in LA, my local paper, The Hartlepool Mail, ran a story about our climb. As you can see, Palma has been very proactive and creative when it comes to raising money for our charity. My attempts to raise funds have involved hob-bobbing with Doctor Who celebrities (one of whom told me to sit in a bath full of baked beans instead) and guilt-tripping people that I know on various Internet forums and social networking sites. Between us I'm sure we'll hit our target. We are also hoping that the publicity surrounding the celebrity Comic Relief climb next week will raise awareness about just how bloody difficult this thing is going to be.
Speaking of which, I managed to catch a couple of episodes of Extreme Dreams, on the Dave channel, where Ben Fogle and company attempted to summit Kilimanjaro. God, how I wish I hadn't; I'm more terrified than ever now. Half the of participants didn't make it, including a climber in her early 20s who looked incredibly fit until the very last night. Even Ben 'Superman' Fogle fell prey to altitude sickness as they struggled to Uhuru Peak (although he only displayed the drunk symptoms which appear far more entertaining than the exploding teeth and brain hemorrhaging I'm envisaging). The slow, inexorable pace at the very end looked like pure torture.
Pushing this thought firmly out of mind, I finally broke my Roseberry Topping cherry yesterday. Palma was my guide on this extremely pleasant 7 mile trek through some of North Yorkshire's most beautiful scenery to the top of its highest mountain; I was literally gobsmacked on more than one occasion. And yes, it is technically a mountain. Honestly.
For the very first time I managed to walk for more than 3 hours without my ankles hurting (I can't put into words how relieved this makes me feel) although my knees are really struggling today; I feel like an arthritic grasshopper.
Worryingly, I was hit by a tremendous wave of vertigo when I "summited". Roseberry Topping is a thousand feet high. Kilimanjaro is almost twenty thousand feet high.
This is slightly worrying.
Neil
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