So long, Europe. Hello, Africa.

San Sebastian, Biarritz and London treated us quite well. More than quite. The Basque Country turned out to be an incredibly culturally rich place to spend some time, and we were sad it had to come to an end. We spent the last couple of days sitting on the beach lazily eating treats from Mercado La Bretxa, a market comprised of various local food stalls featuring excellent artisanal Basque cheeses, meats and breads; walking around town and enjoying views from the top of Mount Urgull (see below), and meeting various travelers from around the world at pintxos bars (including one group of Londoners who successfully approached us by having one of their mates crouch down and speak like a hobbit). A stop at the Guggenheim in Bilbao proved a worthy detour on our way back, although the main attraction for us was the architecture of the museum itself, as opposed to some of their exhibitions like "The Inverted Mirror", which featured things like giant pink canvasses. With nothing on them. Modern art. Hm.

Abby and me celebrating our last night in San Seb by taking in a view of La Concha Bay:


After putting Abby on a plane back home this morning, I'm making the two-hour journey from Kristin & Sam MacDonald's home in Barley to Heathrow for my flight to Dar es Salaam. The reality of Kilimanjaro is fast-approaching, and I'm starting to wonder if I should have trained a little. Or at least gone for a jog once or twice. But I suppose there's no use in dwelling on the past and I should focus on the future...and the glass of wine I'm going to have at the airport. A brief stay in Barley was a nice opportunity to get my first glimpse of the English countryside, and to see Kristin and Sam's kids, whom I suppose would correctly be referred to as my "step-nephews" (Oliver, who turns eight tomorrow, and Jasper and Angus, four-year-old twins whose primary school Sports Day I had the pleasure of witnessing this morning...who doesn't love a good egg-on-a-spoon race?). I'm currently being whisked to London on one of the UK's speedy, efficient, and clean commuter rails, taking breaks to
look out the window and get a glimpse of farms that dot the hillsides. And cows. Sometimes I see cows. Check it:


I'll arrive at KRO tomorrow morning around 11AM, and will be met by our trekking company, ZARA/EWP, for a shuttle into Moshi. A BBQ at cousin Matthew's home in Moshi should be a nice welcome to Africa, and we fearlessly start up Kili on the 21st. We'll be taking the Machame, or Whiskey, route up the mountain. Machame is the most travelled of the routes but also apparently the most scenic as it offers the climber the opportunity to experience a variety of different terrain: rainforest, desert, other types I can't remember right now, etc etc. I haven't hiked - or camped - for seven consecutive days since I was 13 years old, so hopefully I've still got it in me. We'll find out soon enough, I guess.

I'm assuming my Internet connection will be spotty until I return from my sojourn up Africa's tallest peak, so until then, please keep your fingers crossed that my boots fit right, my water purification tablets do their job, and I'm not one of those poor saps who are highly susceptible to altitude sickness. Because that would suck. Mom, don't worry. I'll Skype you before I leave. Cheers.

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