The wake-up call came a little before midnight – but I didn’t need it. I’d barely slept a wink. Part of me was relieved the moment had finally arrived: I wanted to get this over with. Another part could think of nothing worse. I didn’t want to get up because, beyond the safety of my sleeping bag, outside those tent laps, the air was bitterly cold, perishingly thin, and thick with impending doom.
PHOTOGRAPH: PHILIP LEE HARVEY
Finally, steeling myself, I unzipped my warm cocoon and stepped out into my fears. Having climbed three-quarters of the way up Kilimanjaro, it was time to make the final push for the top.