“Gambatte kudasai!
”Words of encouragement spoken by Japanese pilgrims
descending Mt. Fuji to those climbing up.
The sun rose over Nairobi, bringing hot, heavy air. Jud had slept soundly for six hours, only to be awakened by a chorus of roosters. Although the youth hostel was far from luxurious, there was something comforting about waking up among fellow travelers. Over breakfast, he listened to their stories and followed his father’s instructions on a two-hour walk. Though he knew Nairobi could be dangerous, the day was full of promise, and Jud started his exploration with just a hint of nervousness. By mid-morning, he found a large, old tree providing ample shade and sat down to open Envelope 3.
"Dear son,Your next stop is Tanzania, where you will do something I have always dreamed of: you will climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. I advise you to join an expedition rather than attempt it solo. There are plenty of companies that offer guides and equipment. Friends who have done it recommend the Umbwe route, which takes about six days, including an overnight stay in the crater. The altitude will be your biggest challenge—the summit is nearly 6,000 meters.I first heard of Kilimanjaro as a boy and have dreamed of climbing her ever since. Killy, as the mountain is affectionately known, is Africa’s highest peak and the world’s largest free-standing mountain. I hope to live my dream vicariously through you. It won’t be easy, but do your old man a favor: climb her for me.
love, Dad"
“Thanks, Dad… thanks a lot,” Jud muttered sarcastically. He was never much of a climber, and his dad knew it. They had climbed a few mountains together when he was younger, but Jud had always found it tedious and exhausting. Still, his father was footing the bill, which was part of his father’s `last will and testament`. He knew he had to do it.
Jud found a leaflet at the hostel advertising “Killy Packages.” Within an hour, he had everything arranged. He had a week to enjoy Kenya before flying to Moshi, the nearest airport to Kilimanjaro.
Jud packed in as much as he could in the days that followed. He visited the Rift Valley, marveling at the vast plains and the colorful Masai people. He particularly enjoyed the wildlife at a game ranch just outside Nairobi. Although he considered a trip to the beach resort of Mombasa, he decided against it—going to the coast wouldn’t help him prepare for the high-altitude trek. Jud walked two to four hours daily regardless of the day's activities.
To his surprise, Jud was warming to climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. His enthusiasm grew, fueled by conversations with people who had climbed the mountain or opted not to.
“It’s a hell of a high mountain,” an Australian traveler remarked. “I did it in ’95… was sick as a dog at the top. Spent 20 minutes there, vomited, held my aching head, and then made a hasty descent back to where I could breathe.”
“A climb that sticks in your memory, like a fly in porridge,” said a woman from Kentucky. “Make sure you go at your own pace. Don’t let the tour operator push you too hard.”
A petite British woman from the Cotswolds, around 65 years old, mentioned she had climbed Kilimanjaro ten times. Her parents had lived in Tanzania for many years, and Kilimanjaro had always been part of her life. “When you reach the summit, take a moment to reflect on your life,” she advised. “There’s a special magic in reaching the top. The vast horizon, the clear, clean air—it opens you up to a world of possibilities. Life’s worries and pressures seem to fade into the background. From the top of Killy, you can see the world, and just maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll see your future.”
By the time Jud boarded the plane for Moshi, his initial reluctance had given way to excited anticipation.
Exhilarated on Kilimanjaro
“YES!!!!” Jud screamed as he reached the summit. The climb had been grueling and, at times, excruciatingly painful. There were moments when he wanted to give up, but the encouragement of others kept him going. His lungs craved oxygen, but the excitement of reaching the top momentarily distracted him. The view was breathtaking—the vast expanse of Africa stretched out in every direction. Jud stood still, slowly turning to take in the sight, as the crisp, biting air swirled around him.
After the obligatory photos, the guide informed them it was time to descend into the crater, where they would set up camp for the night. Jud had naively assumed that the descent would be easier, but it proved even more challenging, especially on his knees. He regretted not bringing two walking sticks. By the time they reached the campsite, he was exhausted. They quickly set up camp, ate supper, and Jud retired to his tent, falling asleep instantly.
But his sleep didn’t last long. He woke up three hours later, overwhelmed by a deep sadness he didn’t fully understand. Was it just exhaustion? As he became more awake, he realized that he missed his dad.
“Damn you, Dad,” he muttered. “Why are you doing this to me?”
He also missed Kathryn. Though they had kept in regular contact via email whenever he found a cyber café, Jud longed for the comfort of his bed, with Kathryn by his side and the dog on the floor. Instead, he felt overwhelmingly alone in his one-man tent, surrounded by small tents at the bottom of the crater on Africa’s tallest mountain.
“Damn you,” he whispered again, the tears unstoppable. “Why did you have to die, Dad? Why? Why? Why?”
The hot tears eventually subsided as the early morning light filtered into the tent, warming his small, private space. Feeling better, Jud pulled out Envelope 4 and stared at it for over an hour. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue. What other crazy scheme had his father concocted? Finally, his curiosity got better, and he opened the envelope. Inside was a note and two smaller sealed envelopes: one marked “Read in Dubai” and the other “Read in Singapore.”
"Dear son, Congratulations. I assume you’ve completed the climb of Kilimanjaro. If you didn’t reach the top, I admire you for trying. I wish I could be with you, son. Traveling changes us, but change doesn’t come without a cost. It can be not easy, yes, but it’s also exhilarating.
You’re now headed to a very different part of the world. Africa is a continent raw and bare, darkened by poverty. You’re going to Asia next, where development has been excessive and wealth is abundant. You’ve caught a glimpse of the world’s vastness from the top of Kilimanjaro. Now, you’ll see another side of that vastness—Singapore. But I want you to route yourself through Dubai and ensure you have at least three hours in the transit lounge. I am proud of you, Dad"
Jud's journey is about to take a dramatic turn as he transitions from Africa's rugged, raw landscapes to the luxury and modernity of Asia. But what awaits him in Dubai and Singapore?
The next installment will reveal new layers to this adventure. Stay tuned.
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