Kilimanjaro

Darkness surrounds me, illuminated only by a few stars and the headlamp on my head.  One foot in front of the other, I plod on, gasping for breath, yearning for a rest. A distant airplane flies overhead, I wish I were on it, travelling to golden sands and relaxation. 6 hours to go. In 6 hours I will stand atop Kilimanjaro, Africa’s tallest mountain and the highest freestanding mountain in the world. Right now, I’m pretty sure my body is giving out and I shall lie on the slopes of Kilimanjaro for eternity, commemorated only by a stone marker and tales passed on to future tourists of the Canadian who died there. We pause to rest and eat a chocolate bar for energy.  We’ve been hiking for five days but today was the most extreme: 8 hours to base camp, four hours of sleep and then off again at midnight to reach Kilimanjaro’s summit by sunrise. Chocolate consumed, we are urged to continue, to go “slowly slowly”. Darkness surrounds us; I have no idea how much further we have to go. I put my head down and resolve to make it to the top. The first lights of dawn streak across the horizon in shades of red and orange. We are almost there. One foot in front of the other we plod on. Slowly slowly. We pass other weary travelers resting along the pathway. We trudge steadily forwards. The sun is rising, it is getting lighter.  We pass the once mighty glaciers and peer in to Kilimanjaro’s crater. One foot in front of the other, onwards onwards. And suddenly we are there: Uhuru Peak, 19341 feet above sea level. Exhilaration overtakes exhaustion.  Out come the cameras, click click click. We sign the guestbook “Yes! We made it!!” and triumphantly pose beside the congratulatory sign on the summit. We share gleeful hugs. The sun fully rises, bathing us, the intrepid traveler, with its light, shining on the glaciers and giving us an unparalleled view of Tanzania, of roads, farms, villages and the neighboring Mount Meru. An immense feeling of accomplishment and pride overtakes me. More hikers are arriving, it’s time to go.  Going down is easier than going up, my sister and I leap and run down the slopes to base camp, my parents descending a little more cautiously. It’s time for a rest, some watermelon and a warm cup of hot chocolate before our final descent off Kilimanjaro. Reaching Kilimanjaro’s summit is an accomplishment to be proud of and a trip to be remembered forever.

Safranbolu

I have a funny tale to tell. It started (and ended) in Safranbolu, Turkey.

Safranbolu is a neat little place, a UNESCO world heritage site made famous for its well preserved Ottoman houses. To learn more about Safranbolu, click here

Anyways. I visited Safranbolu with my friends Tim and Myza. It was a freezing cold day, much too cold for such adventures, yet we went anyways. Whilst wandering the cobblestone streets of old Safranbolu, a tin smith hailed us.


"Where are you from?" he asked
"We're from Canada."
"OH, I love Canadians. Come in to my shop."

And so we did.

"Sit down, sit down" said he. "Read my guestbook."

While uninterestedly yet politely turning the pages of said guestbook, Myza's hands were suddenly grabbed. What followed was very interesting.

The pages of the guestbook read something like this "Beware. If you are reading this, you are in this man's shop. He will grab your hands. He will start massaging your hands, your face, your arms..." As we read this, the massage gained in momentum. The guestbook continued "Be prepared for the grand finale". Suddenly, Myza was turned around so that she was back to back with this man. He locked his arms with hers, bent over and hoisted her on his back, bending so far over that she was upside down. It was rather uncomfortable looking and awkward to be sure. I collapsed in a fit of giggles.



When he attempted my massage I'll admit that I made my excuses and escaped quickly. Meanwhile, Tim was nowhere to be seen - so much for manly protector.


The next day I was talking with some friends and it turned out that they experienced the same thing on their visit to Safranbolu. So I say this: go to Safranbolu, visit this man and experience his infamous massage.