Day 1 - Departure / Arrival (Feb 10/11)

Unfortunately, I did not have consistent or reliable internet access while in Africa (no real surprise there), therefore, I will attempt to provide a retrospective day-by-day account of our trip over the course of the next few weeks.  The added benefit of doing this after-the-fact though, is that I can include some of the photos from each day as well.
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After the debacle with the camera battery charger, the rest of my travels seemed to go more smoothly (at least until I arrived at Kilimanjaro International Airport).  Granted, it was a long travel day(s) - a 7.5 hour flight, followed by an 8.5 hour flight with a nearly 3-hour layover in between, but I have to say that connecting once in Amsterdam was the best possible way to do this trip.  There are daily flights between Schiphol (Amsterdam's international airport) and Kilimanjaro International airport and Schiphol isn't a bad way to spend 2+ hours.  They even have day showers, so for the price of about 10 euro, I was able to shower, freshen up and feel somewhat rejuvinated in time for my 8.5 hour flight to Kili.



The plan was to also connect with Catherine, our fellow climber from Paris, while we had overlapping layovers in Amsterdam, but the airport is so huge and the terminals are pretty spread out, so we never managed to meet up.  No worries though, we'd have 7 days on a mountain to acquaint ourselves.

Flights were all on-time and we departed Amsterdam that morning with clear skies ahead.  8.5 hours later, we finally landed on African soil at the tiny Kilimanjaro airport, which was nearly dwarfed by our MD-11 aircraft, the only plane at the airport at 8 PM.

 Luckily, I was one of the first off the plane, so I made a mad dash to the terminal, where I still had to apply for and obtain my Tanzanian visa.  After completing two nearly identical forms (one for the visa and one for immigration), I made my way to the visa application desk, already surrounded by travelers anxious to make their way to their hotels.  A short wait and a $100 visa application fee later, and I was on my way about 50 ft to the baggage collection area.

Since the baggage carousel is only about 200 m from the plane, it didn't take long for bags to start arriving, when I quickly identified a checked yellow North Face bag ("Big Yellow"), grabbed it and made my way to the exit, scanning the crowd of awaiting drivers for my name.

It was about 45 minutes to my hotel and while we drove, it struck me how dark everything was (something I also noticed as we flew in - there were hardly any lights on the ground).  Despite the lack of electricity around, there were still loads of people out and about, many walking the busy road leading from the airport to the city of Arusha, where I was staying.  Every now and then, we'd go over a speed bump, indicating we were approaching a village (there are no traffic lights) and we'd slow down enough for me to catch a glimpse of a dusty, one-story settlement, still often buzzing with people.

Upon arrival at my hotel, Onsea (on-SAY-ah) House, I was provided with a glass of passion fruit juice, which quickly became my beverage of choice after the local Kilimanjaro and Safari beers. I was checked in and escorted to my room, which was really more like a suite in it's own house shared with what would be Catherine's room.  In our little house, we had a common sitting area, complete with leather chairs and fireplace and each room was offset from this area.  The rooms were spacious, with a kitchenette and adjoining bathroom with walk-in shower.  Extremely nice, yet sadly, highly in contrast to the accommodations I had observed driving in from the airport. 

I settled in to unpack my bags and get organized before heading to the restaurant for a quick bite to eat while I awaited the arrival of Ed, Imogen and Catherine, who would be arriving just 2 hours later. After unzipping "Big Yellow", I noticed that my plastic toiletry bag was in a different compartment and I immediately thought that the security agents must have rifled through the bag.  But upon closer inspection, I realized, I didn't recognize any of the clothes in the bag either.  I had grabbed the wrong bag! Seriously?  How many giant, yellow, North Face bags could there really be out there!?  Apparently a lot, because I continued to see them through the trip, a constant reminder of my carelessness.

The next two hours were spent with the nice Belgian woman who helps manage the hotel, trying to track down my bag and determine a plan to return the bag in my possession to its proper owner (who was very smart to indicate on the bag the hotel at which he was staying in Tanzania - unfortunately in a town that was nearly 2 hours in the opposite direction of the airport).  Normally, I wouldn't worry so much about the delayed arrival of luggage (in fact, one could see it as an opportunity to pick up some new and local clothing), but in this case, all my hiking gear that I would need in the next week for climbing Africa's highest mountain (except the boots, which I wore on the flight) was in that bag. 

Thankfully, I was able to connect with Catherine via phone once they had landed and she and the Team Kilimanjaro driver were able to determine that my bag was still at the airport, but locked away in a room that we wouldn't have access to until the next day, when the KLM agents were back.  A sigh of relief.  At least we knew where my bag was. The owner of the hotel, a kind, young Belgian man, assured me that everything would be fine and used a phase that would be repeated throughout the trip, "This is Africa."  Meaning, that things may get done on a different schedule or in a different way than we are used to in the West, but everything will come together.  Hakuna Matata.  My first lesson in African culture.

Another hour went by and Ed, Imogen and Catherine had arrived.  At least from here on out, I'd have the support of friends to help manage my way through any more hiccups.  A beer and good friends can take the stress out of any situation.