Somewhere Between Tears and Mango Juice
The time is 7:14 p.m. The air is chilly, and the wind is calmly brushing our tent. We are at 4,673 meters above sea level in Tanzania. In just three hours, we will get ready to summit Mount Kilimanjaro. If the weather is kind, we should make it by sunrise.
We have spent the last five days hiking our way through rainforests, moorlands, and alpine deserts. We didn’t just hike — we got to know our two absolutely amazing guides, Aggrey and Bruce. From the very first moment, we were laughing, dancing, and learning Swahili. Despite the rain, cold, slippery ground, and altitude, we had the absolute best time.
I have never felt this privileged in my entire life. George woke us up with hot coffee every single morning. When we were tired, he served us dinner as we lay in our tent. It made me question life so much — how many things we consider normal are a luxury to these people.
And I have never felt this morally split in my life. Because, from one perspective, it does provide a job for them, but they work tirelessly — carrying tents, equipment, our stuff, food, and sometimes even water from kilometers away. An absolutely incredible team of ten looked after the two of us, making sure all our needs were met.
After so much laughter and endless card games, it was time for the summit. We switched our headlamps on and set off at 11:02 p.m. Zigzagging our way through slippery volcanic rocks, staring at the stars, I already knew how much I would miss this moment. The first three hours were easy, and then it got harder and harder to lift our legs for each new step. Our guides went above and beyond to make sure we were alright as we ascended to 5,895 meters above sea level. Bruce even opened our water bottles for us — all while dancing and singing in the cold.
When I asked Aggrey to stop, he said no. “You only have to walk five more minutes, and we’ll be at Stella Point — from there it’s only an hour walk in the sunrise.” That was the point where I reconsidered all my life choices. It was cold, my legs didn’t want to move, but I could already see the light on the horizon — we were so close.
Bruce switched on his speaker and started playing our favorite tunes — the ones we’d been singing with them for the past five days. That was all we needed to push ourselves just a tiny bit more. One foot after the other, slowly, slowly we went. The moment I saw the sign — the highest point in Africa — tears filled my eyes. Everything was worth it. Every drop of sweat, every shiver in the cold, every euro spent.
At 6:02 a.m., when the sun rose above the clouds, we stood at the infamous sign, hugging each other. We made it! We spent 15 minutes on top, feeling every emotion possible, not quite believing this was real life.
The way down was almost as tough as the way up. We were exhausted, altitude sickness started to hit us, and the rocks were very slippery. But our team greeted us with huge smiles and a mango juice in hand. I couldn’t quite grasp how privileged we are.
We still had to walk seven more kilometers down, on the edge of giving up. But we pushed through the pain and the pouring rain, listening to even more jokes from our fantastic guides.
Seeing our tent had never felt better. Finally being down at 3,000 meters above sea level, with warmth and considerably more oxygen, felt like heaven.
After a good night’s sleep, our team greeted us with dancing and singing once again — and we almost cried. These people had become our family for a week, and we already knew how much we would miss them. Bruce even threw yet another dance party on the way down the mountain. It was such a bittersweet moment.
When it came time to say goodbye, I decided it wasn’t a goodbye — just a see you later. Tanzania, and especially these people, will always have a permanent place in my heart.
The group trip to Kilimanjaro by Beyond Trails & Tales is now definitely happening — the only question is when exactly.
As we lay in a real bed after a week, I tried to put my thoughts together and refused to believe this wasn’t just a wild dream. This wasn’t just about a mountain. It was about resilience, learning, trying new things, meeting incredible people, pushing limits, and making memories we’ll never forget.
Hakuna matata, maisha mazuri.
Until next time,
Toto Kobe
