There I was, standing at 5,895 meters, gasping for air that wasn’t there, and sobbing into a salt-crusted buff.
They don’t tell you that Kilimanjaro is less of a hike and more of a sensory overhaul. It’s the smell of damp moss in the rainforest, the metallic taste of high-altitude oxygen, and the way popcorn and tea can make you more excited than a Michelin-star restaurant back home.
If you’re looking for a Kilimanjaro packing list or wondering if the 6-day Machame Route is actually doable for a “normal” person, you’re in the right place. This isn’t a sanitized travel brochure. This is the raw, gritty truth of what it takes to stand on the Roof of Africa—from riding a TukTuk across the dusty roads of Moshi to my tears at Uhuru Peak.
Doing Gear The Smart Way for Kili
If you’re doing the Machame Route in 6 days, packing smart is everything. First off, Kilimanjaro is not technical. I bought a lot of my stuff from Decathlon and off of Amazon. Most companies (including KiliAfrica, who I used) offer rental gear, but the quality varies. Here’s what’s worth bringing vs renting:
Bring from home (your own gear = comfort + hygiene):
- Broken-in hiking boots
- Good sleeping bag liner (rent the bag, but liners keep it clean & warmer)
- Headlamp with spare batteries
- Quick-dry, warm base layers + fleece
- Power bank (and a small solar charger if you want to flex)
- Personal first aid kit (Diamox, ibuprofen, rehydration salts, blister care/bandaids, malarone*)
- Flip flops/sandals for the camps (beats tying up your boots at 2 in the morning)
- Travel pillow (if you like extra neck support at night + for the long flight down)
- Clean Camelbak (or higher-quality alternative)
- Small daypack to carry while hiking
Rent locally (cheaper + bulky gear you don’t need to fly with):
- 4-season sleeping bag
- Trekking poles
- Duffel bag (porters carry this, not your suitcase)
- Heavy down jacket + windbreaker/rainjacket for summit day
- Gaiters
- Large gloves
- Ski pants
Buy locally
- Baby wipes (absolute lifesaver — showers are rare)
- Snacks (nuts, bars, electrolytes)
- Drinks/powder (lemonade, electrolytes, etc.)
💡 Pro tip: Test your gear at the rental shop. Zippers fail, straps break, and a leaky sleeping bag zipper is not fun at 4,600m.
Don’t Bring
- Heavy, cotton clothing
- Drone (prohibited with nasty fines if caught)
- Laptop (very spotty connection for hotspot)
Note that you’ll be able to leave your suitcase & other personal items at the hotel while hiking, and porters will carry your main bag/duffel up the mountain.
*Malafin, an alternative to Malarone, can be found in Moshi
Day 0 – Arrival in Kilimanjaro (JRO) and Night in Moshi
My adventure started the moment I landed at Kilimanjaro International Airport (JRO). Touchdown was 19:55, right on time after an uneventful KLM Economy Comfort flight from Amsterdam Schiphol (read my guide for that airport here). Definitely worth it to splurge for comfort on such a long flight.
I managed to sleep 4 out of 8 hours (not bad for economy!), service was great, and the 787-10 cabin felt fresh and spacious. If you’re comparing airlines, I’d recommend this over Turkish’s cramped 737 MAX option — that one gets you in at 3AM, which is brutal when you’re trying to start a trek the next morning.
(If you do take Turkish, I recommend spending that first day rest and exploring the local area, like the Materuni waterfalls)
Arrival at Kilimanjaro Airport (VOA / E-Visa)
We deplaned front and back via air stairs, and simply walked across the tarmac into the terminal — no bus. I hadn’t bothered with an e-visa ahead of time, so I joined the VOA line (Visa on Arrival).
Pro tip: there are three lines for the Visa on Arrival, and it’s a lottery which one is faster.
I picked the middle one — which ended up being the slowest. Officers seemed to swap chairs just to keep things interesting. Total wait: ~45 minutes.
Payment is straightforward (cash or card accepted). After that, I was stamped into the country and made my way to baggage claim. To my surprise, I still beat the checked luggage even after the long process. (Thanks to my expandable Briggs & Riley!) Before exiting, officers scanned everyone’s luggage — mostly looking for drones and drugs.
Once through customs and on the other side, you’ll find:
- Several money exchange booths (rates are better in Moshi/Arusha, but if you need quick cash it’s fine here)
- ATM machines that actually work (I used one)
- SIM card / eSIM booths
- A swarm of drivers holding signs and plenty of taxi offers
I couldn’t spot an obvious bus or shared shuttle to Moshi. If you’re budget-conscious, ask your hotel or trekking company about transfers in advance.
Transfer to Moshi
I was able to secure a ride from JRO to Moshi for $25 (going rates are normally around $30-35) with a private driver. Richard picked me up in a cute Japanese van that spoke in Japanese when you put the keys in: either “drive safely” or “ETC card not installed.” Seeing kanji pop up on a dashboard in Africa was a surprising experience that was not on my bingo card.
The drive to Moshi took about an hour, and the night air already carried that earthy, dusty scent of East Africa.
Where to Stay in Moshi (Pre-Trek)
I checked into MCF Kilimanjaro Lodge — conveniently just off the main road, with good breakfast, safety, and decent amenities.
Other popular hotels in Moshi for trekkers:
- Panama Garden Resort – Mid-range, reliable hot water, nice pool, strong WiFi.
- Brubru Lodge – Known for working with trekking groups, cozy rooms.
- Parkview Inn – Budget-friendly with mountain views.
💡 Pro tip: Don’t underestimate your pre-climb sleep. If you can, pick somewhere quiet and comfortable — summit night will rob you of enough rest as it is.
I went to bed with a mix of jet lag, nerves, and excitement, knowing tomorrow the real adventure began — setting foot on the Machame Gate trailhead, the rainforest path that would eventually lead me to 5,895m.
Day 1 – Moshi to Machame Gate, and the Rainforest Trek to Machame Camp
The real start of the 6-day Machame Route on Kilimanjaro began the morning after my arrival in Moshi. My alarm went off at 7:45am, followed by a bracingly cold shower (30 seconds of hot water, then nothing — welcome to the rugged backcountry). Then again, maybe it was good training to endure the cold to come on Kilimanjaro.
After a simple breakfast at my lodge, I paid my $60 bill and waited at 8:30am for pick-up.
Meeting the Team
Richard, my endlessly cheerful driver from the night before, was on time as always. Accompanying him was Sunshine, our lovely KiliAfrica host who greeted me with the kind of warmth and a smile that instantly puts you at ease before a big challenge. We made our way to the KiliAfrica office in Moshi for logistics, and final payments, before heading upstairs to the rental gear room.
Pro Tip: Choosing the right operator is the difference between a dangerous climb and a successful one. I went with KiliAfrica because of their safety record and local expertise.
💡 Exclusive for my readers: If you’re booking your own adventure, use code PIERRE100 when you contact KiliAfrica to get $100 off your trek package."
I was honestly surprised by the quality and offerings of the rental gear. Prices were fair, and the equipment was in decent shape: heavy down jackets, gaiters, duffel bags, sleeping bags — all the stuff you don’t want to fly across the world with. They even have boots, backpacks, water bottles, Nalgene, camelbaks, headlights, and more. I grabbed a few items to supplement my own gear, then we stopped at a supermarket for snacks (cashews, Oreos, and, most importantly, baby wipes), plus a pharmacy for Diamox. We were able to find Malanil, which contains the same active ingredients (Avotaquone-Proguanil) as Malarone.
Pro Tip #2: Malanil is readily available in Tanzania, and may be cheaper than Malarone at home.
Next stop: orientation at another hotel and picking up two fellow trekkers who would become fast friends — Daniel and Camila, a Romanian pair of friends buzzing with excitement. After a quick safety briefing and coming down from our nervous highs, we all piled into a large bus along with our army of support: ten porters, a cook, and our two wonderful guides, Sanga and Khateeb.
The Drive to Machame Gate
The van bounced along the tarmac, passing banana plantations that blurred into a green haze while kids chased our dust, waving and shouting ‘Jambo!’. We passed the Salinero Hotel (a fancier Moshi option that had been recommended to me), before making one last supermarket stop for odds and ends.
By late morning, we arrived at Machame Gate (1,800m) — where the real fun begins.
Machame Gate Logistics (Start of the Route)
This place was buzzing. Hoards of trekkers, guides, porters, and park staff were gathered, filling the air with anticipation. The ranger station is where you sign in, while the guides organize permits, porters weigh bags, and everyone waits around.
Facilities at Machame Gate:
- Toilets: surprisingly decent for a trailhead
- A small café with an espresso machine (!!)
- Shops selling last-minute essentials: water bottles, sunscreen, hiking poles, even camelbaks!
- Boxed lunches from most companies (some fancier operators offer hot meals)
We ended up leaving last, since our group needed an extra porter for our private toilet tent. At first, I was annoyed — but in hindsight, this was perfect. I enjoyed a quite decent cappuccino while admiring the surrounding jungle, then we had the rainforest trail almost entirely to ourselves on the way up.
The Rainforest Hike: Machame Gate to Machame Camp
- Distance: ~11 km (7 miles)
- Elevation gain: ~1,200m (3,900 ft)
- Time: 5–7 hours depending on pace
The rainforest on Kilimanjaro is straight out of a storybook. Dense, humid, and dripping with life. Mist curled between the towering trees, vines tangled overhead, and every step squelched with damp earth. It smelled like wet leaves and moss. If Tolkien’s Ents were going to appear anywhere, it would be here.
On the way up, Khateeb nicely pointed out some really cool-looking “elephant trunk” flowers and plants unique to Kilimanjaro. And despite the moisture in the air, we were lucky — no actual rain. The mist only added to the mystical feel, like being in a Grimm fairytale.
We hiked pole pole (slowly, slowly), occasionally breaking into song. Jerusalema and “Jambo Bwana” became trail anthems, blending with the rhythm of boots on mud. Camila, who works as an emergency medic in Romania, joked that she could double as our rescue team if things went south.
Arrival at Machame Camp (2,835m)
Since we’d left last, darkness caught up with us in the final stretch. Hiking under the misty canopy with headlamps gave the whole thing a surreal, almost spiritual vibe. And then — suddenly — the forest opened up.
Machame Camp sits right above the clouds, at the edge of the rainforest and right on the cusp of the moorland zone. The views here are unreal: rolling clouds below, mountain peaks above, and a surprising 4G cell network.
We were greeted with dinner around 8pm: hot soup, bread, chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. Nothing gourmet, but up here, it tastes like heaven.
💡 Pro tip: Don’t underestimate the temperature drop. By nightfall at Machame Camp, it’s cold. Pack layers you can easily switch into once you arrive.
What Day 1 of the Machame Route Feels Like
Physically? Not hard at all. The trail is steady uphill, but nothing technical. The main challenge is the humidity — sweat, damp clothes, and fog that makes you feel like you’re walking through a dream.
But seeing that this was the first taste of the mountain, the anticipation grew with each step. The combination of solitude (from leaving last), music, and mist made the rainforest hike feel like the opening chapter of an epic story.
I crawled into my tent that night, tired but buzzing with excitement. The Machame Route was just getting started.
Quick Packing Tips for Day 1
- Keep rain gear readily accessible — the rainforest can drench you in minutes.
- Trekking poles aren’t essential today but will help on the descent.
- Bring spare socks — damp feet = blisters.
- Snacks help break up the long climb (cashews > Oreos, but both work).
- Camera/phone ready for foggy, mystical shots — this is one of the most photogenic days.
Day 2 – Machame Camp to Shira Camp (3,940m)
The morning started with a 6:30am wake-up call, hot tea in the tent, and the sound of porters bustling outside. Day 3 on the Machame Route is a short hike in distance (about 5 km / 3 miles), but much steeper and rougher than Day 1. We left the misty rainforest behind and climbed straight into the Moorland zone.
Into the Moorland – Climbing Higher
I decided to hike ahead with Sanga, one of the lead guides, which gave me the chance to savor this stretch at my own rhythm. The change in scenery was dramatic: the lush rainforest gave way to scrubby bushes, giant heathers, volcanic caves, and the strange, Dr. Seuss-like “everlasting flowers” that grow only at high altitudes.
Every so often, the trail opened up onto rocky outcrops. From there, we looked down on an endless sea of white: a thick stratus cloud layer stretched below us, making it feel like we were floating above the world.
The climb was steady — about 4 hours of continuous uphill, legs burning but spirits high. Then came a gift: 15–30 minutes of blissfully flat terrain before camp. After the relentless ascent, my knees were grateful.
Arrival at Shira Camp (3,940m)
Shira Camp is nothing short of spectacular. Nestled on a plateau, it offers panoramic views both ways: the jagged Shira Ridge and plateau behind us, and the looming summit of Uhuru Peak (Kilimanjaro’s highest point) ahead.
I was the first in our group to arrive, and was immediately greeted by Bacari — perhaps the nicest camp worker alive — who insisted on dusting off my shoes, gaiters, and even my trekking pants. Talk about service at 3,940m!
Lunch was served (vegetable soup, bread, and a protein), followed by a much-needed nap. The afternoon plan: a short acclimatization hike.
First Acclimatization Hike (Above 4,000m)
At 4:30pm, we made our first trek above 4,000m, heading to a rocky viewpoint overlooking Shira Camp. The route passed the Shira Caves, volcanic formations that porters sometimes use for shelter. From the top, the views stretched endlessly — clouds below, the summit above, the camp tiny beneath us.
This “climb high, sleep low” strategy is crucial for acclimatization on Kilimanjaro. Even a 100–200m gain makes a difference in how your body adjusts to altitude.
Singing, Dancing, and Mountain Culture: The Highlight of Hiking Kilimanjaro
Just before dinner, the entire support team — porters, cooks, and guides — gathered for a singing and dancing welcome ceremony. About 12 staff in total supporting just three of us trekkers. Their energy was infectious; their harmonies rolled through the camp as other climbers looked on. It was impossible not to join in.
(Confession: I almost missed half of it because I got distracted wandering near the edge of camp, chasing a phone signal. A guide had to reel me back. Priorities, right?)
Dinner was hearty: vegetable soup, potatoes, and some reheated chicken (a gamble at altitude, but I survived). Bananas for dessert. Then it was straight to bed — the cold was creeping in, and we’d gained significant altitude.
Practical Tips for Day 2
- Altitude: You’ll be sleeping at ~3,940m, so expect mild symptoms: headache, fatigue, or loss of appetite. Stay hydrated and move slowly.
- Clothing: Layer up — mornings are cold, and afternoons can be windy on the plateau.
- Gear: Trekking poles are helpful on the steep ascent; gaiters useful if the trail is dusty.
- Acclimatization hike: Don’t skip it. The extra climb makes summit night much more manageable.
- Phone signal: Yes, you might get 4G here. But don’t get so distracted that you miss the dancing!
What Day 2 of the Machame Route Feels Like
This was the first day that truly felt like being on a big expedition. The rainforest was behind us, the plateau opened up, and Kilimanjaro’s summit stared us down. Between the altitude, the camaraderie of the team, and the songs echoing through camp, it finally hit me: I was climbing the highest mountain in Africa.
Day 3 – Shira Camp to Lava Tower (4,650m), Down to Barranco Camp (3,900m)
After a restless night (too many late-night pee breaks, despite not taking Diamox), I unzipped my tent at 6am to one of the most surreal sights of my life: a full moon still hanging in the sky, the Shira Plateau stretched out behind me, and the snow-capped summit of Kilimanjaro glowing in the first light.
And, as always, Bacari — our camp angel — appeared with hot tea in bed, smiling as if we weren’t all living at nearly 4,000 meters. It’s the small rituals like this that make camp life feel human. Looking back, he may have been the highlight of the trek!
Shira Camp to Lava Tower (4,650m)
The trail from Shira to Lava Tower is long and gradual, steadily climbing through the alpine desert zone. The landscape turned stark: fewer plants, more volcanic rock, and wide open views in every direction. Honestly, it felt like hiking on another planet.
- Distance: ~7 km to Lava Tower
- Time: 4–5 hours up
- Elevation gain: ~700m
For some strange reason, I had a massive burst of energy and made it up to the Lava Tower in under 2 and half hours. I was passing the guides and the porters. It was fun, but I think I paid the price later….
At the top of Lava Tower, the wind cut sharp and cold, but it wasn’t unbearable. The views more than made up for it: sheer volcanic cliffs and endless sky. You could see the summit of Kili winking at you from above, while enjoying incredible vast views of the hike you’ve already put behind you.
After the sprint up, I could definitely feel the altitude here — not sick, just a little euphoric, with fingertips tinged slightly blue. At the same time, I felt lucky: no nausea, no headache. Just a deep sense of being small beneath the massive shoulders of Kilimanjaro.
Descending to Barranco Camp (3,900m)
From Lava Tower, the trail plunged down toward Barranco Valley. If the climb up had been lunar, the descent was lush and full of life again. We passed giant groundsels (those bizarre, palm-like endemic plants that look like they belong in a Dr. Seuss book), smaller everlastings, and even a couple trickling waterfalls — all with Kilimanjaro towering above us the whole time.
It was one of the most beautiful stretches of trail I’ve ever hiked.
- Distance: ~3 km down
- Time: 2 hours
- Elevation loss: ~750m
Life at Barranco Camp
Barranco is often called the most beautiful camp on Kilimanjaro, and I get why. Nestled in a valley beneath the looming Barranco Wall, with clouds rolling in below and the summit overhead, it feels like a dreamscape.
We arrived mid-afternoon, greeted once again by Bacari with popcorn and tea (yes, this is a daily ritual — and yes, it’s as comforting as it sounds). The view was too good to sit inside the dining tent, so I ate outside, scrolling briefly on my phone (there’s surprisingly solid internet signal just steps away from camp).
Since the sun was still out it actually felt quite warm, so most trekkers here took their “bath.” On Kilimanjaro, that means a bucket of warm water and a bar of soap — crude but glorious after days of sweat and dust.
The camp itself is busy — this is where multiple routes converge — but it’s lively in a good way. There’s a large battery/solar charging device at the top of the camp where you can charge your devices for $5–10 — an absolute steal for a fully topped-off power bank at 3,900m. (Note that it did take all night to charge mine)
Dinner & the Night Sky
Dinner was, as always, incredible for being this high on a mountain: Chef Anton’s legendary vegetable soup (how does he make it so good every single night?), potatoes, and a hot main dish.
But the real magic came after. As the last light faded, the sky exploded with stars — the Milky Way stretching overhead, crisp and clear with zero light pollution. Everyone stepped out of their tents to gawk at the sky in silence. Between the soup, the sunset, and the stars, it was one of those rare moments where you think: I’ll never forget this night.
Practical Tips for Day 3
- This is the big acclimatization day. “Climb high, sleep low” is the whole point of Lava Tower → Barranco. Don’t skip it, even if you’re tired.
- Altitude effects: Expect mild symptoms (fatigue, short breath, maybe tingling or dizziness). Stay hydrated and eat even if you’re not hungry.
- Warm layers: It gets windy and cold at Lava Tower. Pack gloves and a windbreaker in your daypack.
- Camera ready: The descent to Barranco is one of the most scenic sections of the entire route.
- Power & WiFi: Bring small bills if you want to pay for charging. And yes — there’s usually internet.
What Day 3 of the Machame Route Feels Like
Epic. There’s no other word. You climb to your highest point so far at 4,650m, feel the altitude kick in, then drop into the most beautiful valley on the route. Between Bacari’s popcorn, Anton’s soup, and the Milky Way blazing above, Barranco felt like a reward for the effort.
Day 4 – Barranco Camp to Barafu Base Camp (4,670m)
Another 6:00am wake-up, and another cup of Bacari’s coffee delivered straight to the tent. By now, it was ritual: sip coffee in the sleeping bag, slowly pack gear, peek outside to catch the early light on Kilimanjaro, and — yes — sneak in that post-coffee private bathroom run before breakfast. What a luxury to have.
Breakfast was at 6:30am, and by 7:00am we were already on the trail.
The Barranco Wall: Daunting, but Manageable
The day started gently, weaving across small streams at the base of the valley. Then came the main event: the Barranco Wall.
This section is legendary — a sheer-looking rock face that seems almost vertical when you first see it. In reality, it’s a steep scramble: about 45–60 minutes of climbing, some of it on all fours, pulling yourself up ledges, and squeezing through narrow notches in the rock. It’s not technical (no ropes required), but it’s hands-on and requires focus.
As we climbed, clouds thickened around us, swallowing the views. By the time we reached the top, we were walking in a misty, cold gray world that stayed with us for most of the day.
Lunch at Karanga Camp: Respite from the Clouds at 3,995m
We descended into the next valley and arrived at Karanga Camp, where 7-day Machame trekkers usually overnight. I’ll admit: I envied them. Breaking up the push with a night here would have, in retrospect, been significantly gentler, and I had arranged it ahead of time.
By now the cold was biting. My backpack straps were collecting ice crystals, the kind of detail that makes you suddenly aware of how high you are. Warm tea, hot soup, and a hot meal were lifesavers. We layered up again, packed, and carried on.
The Push to Barafu Base Camp (4,670m): Turning the 7-Day Machame Hike into a 6 Day Course
The final stretch to Barafu Camp (base camp) wasn’t long — just a couple of hours — but the altitude made every step deliberate. At this point, oxygen levels are about 60% of sea level, so walking feels a little heavier. The constant fog, cold, and clouds didn’t help.
Nevertheless, we rolled into camp around 5:00pm, exhausted but buzzing with anticipation. This is it: base camp before summit night.
Base Camp Life (Barafu – the Final Rest before summiting Kilimanjaro)
Barafu Camp is stark — perched on a ridge of loose volcanic rock, no vegetation, no softness, just stone and tents flapping in the cold wind. But the views (if clouds part) are epic, with Mawenzi Peak rising sharp on one side and the slopes of Kibo on the other.
Dinner was served at 6:00pm (yes, another bowl of Anton’s miracle soup). Afterward, the guides encouraged us to crawl straight into our sleeping bags. The goal: rest before the midnight summit push.
Of course, “rest” is relative. At 4,670m, with adrenaline surging, sleep comes in brief, shallow bursts. You’re lucky to dream at all. I managed to push through for a couple hours of low-quality shuteye.
Practical Tips for Day 4
- The Barranco Wall: Don’t be intimidated. It looks worse than it is. Go slow, follow your guide’s steps, and enjoy the scramble. This is actually one of the most fun sections.
- Clothing: Layers are crucial — temperatures can drop below freezing, and the wind + mist can leave you chilled quickly.
- Hydration: Drink up at Karanga — water access at Barafu is limited (porters often have to hike down to fetch it).
- Sleep prep: Even if you don’t sleep well, lie down, close your eyes, and rest. Your body needs it.
- Mental shift: This is the transition day. Once you reach Barafu, it’s no longer about “trekking.” It’s about preparing for the summit.
What Day 4 of the Machame Route Feels Like
Day 4 is the calm before the storm — tough enough to remind you you’re on a serious mountain, but short enough to leave energy in the tank. The Barranco Wall gives you one last adrenaline shot, Karanga provides comfort, and Barafu strips everything away to essentials.
By nightfall, you’re lying in a thin, freezing tent at 4,670m, trying to convince yourself that you’re ready for the biggest climb of your life.
Tomorrow, early: summit day.
Day 5 – Summit Night & Summit Day: Barafu Camp (4,670m) to Uhuru Peak (5,895m), Descent to Mweka Camp (3,100m)
Summit day. The one you’ve been building toward for nearly a week. It’s long, brutal, and unforgettable.
Midnight Wake-Up Call — Assuming You Slept
Waking up at 11:30pm felt ridiculous. My body begged for more sleep, but the mountain called louder. Bacari appeared with a small miracle: popcorn and hot milk tea. Somehow, at nearly 5,000m, this felt like a five-star breakfast.
We were shocked — and elated — to see that the fog and clouds that had blinded us the entire way up to Barafu had completely disappeared. Taking their place with a sky filled with brilliant stars, the Milky Way, and a dry, unforgiving cold. We were excited, and motivated, but unfortunately we had to leave Camila behind as she wasn’t feeling well. (This is why doing a 7-day trek would have likely been a better idea).
By midnight, headlamps lit up the trail in a snaking line above us. Hundreds of climbers, moving slowly into the darkness. It was our time to shine — literally and figuratively.
The Long Climb into the Night
The first stretch was crowded — faster groups overtaking slower ones, everyone shuffling at a snail’s pace. Most of the path didn’t leave much passing room. I started strong, buzzing with adrenaline, waiting to pass those ahead with angst, but reality set in fast.
The slope zig-zagged relentlessly upward, and the altitude piled on more and more like invisible weights. My pace slowed to what felt like retirement-home speed. No matter how many steps I took, the peak never seemed any closer. Where’s my walker?
Climbing Through the “Death Zone” Trance
The first three hours were a blur of Pole Pole (slowly, slowly). The temperature plummeted below freezing, and a biting wind began to scour any exposed skin.
- The Physicality: My breathing turned into a rhythmic, desperate rasp. You don’t walk; you shuffle. Every step requires a conscious command from the brain to the boots.
- The Mental Fog: By 18,000 feet, the altitude does strange things to your mind. I found myself in a dreamlike trance, focused entirely on the heels of the boots in front of me.
- The Survival Kit: When the nausea hit—a classic symptom of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS)—my guide, Sanga, pressed a hot thermos of ginger tea into my hands. It tasted like life.
By 18,000 ft (5,486m), my head pounded wildly. Well into the death zone with less than 50% the normal oxygen levels, I slipped into dreamlike distractions, half in survival mode, half in trance. At points, I felt nauseous, but sweet, hot ginger tea from our guides kept me moving. I tried my best to breathe throw my nose, breathe throw the buff, just to avoid the cold, dry air, but I felt like I was grasping at straws.
It was only Daniel, I, and our 2 guides — and Daniel starting feeling awful and throwing up. On my end, the only thing keeping me from throwing up was knowing how much energy I’d lose if I did.
Each moment, each minute felt brutal, relentless. It was punishing, I felt like I could detect each incremental foot, inch of altitude gained. My head felt like it was going to explode (implode?), and each step felt like a year’s worth of going to a gym boiled down to 6 inches of forward movement.
This was, without doubt, the hardest physical thing I’ve ever done. And it felt like it took forever, just to get to Stella Point, the first peak.
Stella Point (5,756m) – First Summit
After 6 hours of crawling upward, we reached Stella Point. Relief washed over me. It’s the official summit for many climbers, perched on the crater rim of Kilimanjaro. Many hikers didn’t even make it there — some turning around mere meters from the signboard, unable to keep pushing for even a moment more.
But the job wasn’t done. There were still some 200m (600 feet) of elevation gain left to Uhuru Peak. At this altitude, now officially in the Flight Levels that airliners begin to cruise at, that’s no small feat.
Yet the rewards started to appear: the horizon glowing as the sun rose, glaciers catching the early light. Watching the sunrise from nearly 5,800m, above the clouds, was one of my life’s most magical moments. Sunrise on the rocks, please. It’s the moment you realize that despite the pounding headache and the frozen fingertips, you are actually going to make it.
The Final 200 Meters to Uhuru Peak (5,895m): Torture turned to Gratitude and Bliss
The last stretch was torture. Even though it wasn’t as steep as the first section, it felt just as bad. Each step felt dragged out, unbearable, as if anvils were tied to my ankles. My head throbbed, nausea built, and my body screamed, begged to turn around. The only thing stronger was the thought: I’m almost there.
Then, after a torturous 45 minute push, the wooden sign appeared. The Roof of Africa. I didn’t feel like a conqueror; I felt like a survivor.
Tears came instantly—uncontrollable, ugly, and beautiful. In that thin, freezing air, all the doubt of the last six days evaporated. I wasn’t just standing on a mountain; I was standing on top of every “I can’t” I’d ever told myself.
Hours of pain, exhaustion, and doubt dissolved in a flood of relief and pride. I was a weeping mess, and I didn’t care. I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried.
We didn’t linger long — at that altitude, every minute counts. Just enough to take pictures, soak in the massive accomplishment, and then start the path back down.
The Descent from Kili – Sliding Back to Life
The descent was a little more intense than I expected. Nausea continued to grow worse even as I moved faster, motivating me to go down as quickly as possible.
From Stella Point, the trail dropped steeply back toward Barafu, a mix of scree and dust. I surrendered to it — slip-sliding, half-running, gaiters earning their keep. The only thing slowing me down was my knees and my toes! (I did end up losing two toenails from this)
- Ascent time: ~6 hours
- Descent to Barafu: just 1 hour (!), gravity doing its magic
By the time I stumbled back into Barafu Camp, I wasn’t even tired — just sore-kneed and coated in dust. But the second I lay in my tent, I passed out instantly.
Two hours later, I woke with a pounding headache. After all, we were still well over 4000m. The cure? Descend further.
Practical Tips for the Kilimanjaro Summit Night
- Clothing: Layer everything. It’s bitterly cold before sunrise. You may have to remove layers later on.
- Pace: Forget speed. Slow, steady, relentless is the only way.
- Hydration & Snacks: Sweet tea, ginger candies, or chocolate help when nausea hits.
- Hydrate Early: Your hydration bladder hose will freeze. Blow air back into the tube after every sip to keep it clear, or stick to insulated thermoses.
- Batteries in your Pockets: Keep your phone and spare camera batteries inside your base layer, close to your body heat. The Kili cold kills electronics in minutes.
- The “Slow” Secret: If you think you’re going slow enough, go slower. The goal is to keep your heart rate steady; once you start redlining, it’s hard to recover at 5,000m+.
- Altitude: Expect headaches, nausea, or exhaustion — everyone suffers differently. Push within reason, but listen to your body.
- Descent: Gaiters are lifesavers for the scree slide. Embrace the dust.
- Ask the guides to carry your daypack. This helps significantly.
Nap first, then a refreshing (highly oxygenated) hike down to Mweka Camp (3,100m)
We pushed on to Mweka Camp, dropping into richer air with every step. The effect was miraculous — as if life itself was pouring back into my body. I felt like I could taste the oxygen molecules.
Locals all around congratulated us as we walked by, and the sense of unity — and pride — never felt stronger.
Day 5 – Afternoon: Mweka Camp to the Gate & Back to Civilization
Mweka Camp was pure bliss. Warm sunshine, patches of blue sky, and even a sprinkle of internet connection – enough to ping the outside world with a victorious “I made it!” if you had the energy. For the first time in days, we could really breathe, relax, and even enjoy the luxuries of a bucket bath, a proper sit-down in the sun, and an unhurried meal that didn’t require sprinting into your sleeping bag before the cold hit.
Dinner felt less like fuel and more like a feast, capped off with laughter, hugs, and the relief of having survived what felt impossible just 24 hours earlier.
Most importantly, we got solid sleep – that deep, delicious, dream-filled sleep you only earn after pushing your body to its absolute limit. I woke up 12 hours later not just recovered but refreshed, like I could climb another mountain tomorrow. (Let’s go back? Maybe not today, but ask me again after coffee.)
Day 6: Mweka Camp (3,100m) to Mweka Gate — The End
Morning at Mweka was a bittersweet symphony. Gratitude filled the air – gratitude for the views, the strength we found in ourselves, the friendships forged in the crucible of exhaustion. But also sadness: the mountain that had consumed us for nearly a week was letting us go.
Before departure, our guides and porters gathered everyone for one last celebration dance – full of singing, clapping, and rhythmic stomping that shook the forest floor. It was joy in its purest form, and the perfect bookend to the trek. We were able to personally thank each porter, cook, waiter, and guide – the quiet heroes who carried the weight, brewed the tea, kept the morale alive, and made our summit possible. Without them, none of us would’ve made it past day one.
The descent to the Mweka Gate took about 2.5 hours. The rainforest came alive again – lush, green, damp with morning mist, and filled with birdsong. After days of lunar landscapes, dust, and ice, it felt like stepping into Eden. The trail was muddy in parts (cue the gaiters again), but the walk gave us time to soak in our accomplishment. It was as if the mountain itself was easing us gently back into the real world. Porters running by us at twice our speed reminded us of the reality that they do this every single week.
At the gate, we signed out, received our summit certificates, and posed for the obligatory photo – grinning, dirt-streaked, and proud. A small gift shop offered souvenirs for those who wanted a tangible piece of the mountain to take home (other than sore legs and a runny nose). Locals with buckets and brushes offered to clean our boots for cheap — much needed after that hike. This is also where we learned that it was Bacari’s first trip, which we could hardly believe!
Finally, we piled back into the bus, pole pole, winding down the mountain roads toward Moshi. Stopping briefly at a local shop for snacks and trinkets, the return to Panama Garden Resort felt surreal. Beds, showers, Wi-Fi, and cold Kilimanjaro beers awaited. Civilization had never looked so good.
Pro tip: tip envelopes are often distributed here, so have cash ready before the last morning.
Conclusion: Was the 6-Day Machame Route Worth It?
People ask me if I’d do it again. My knees, currently screaming at me, say “absolutely not.” But my heart? That’s a different story.
Kilimanjaro isn’t about the summit photo; it’s about the 3:00 AM silence of the alpine desert, the rhythmic “Jambo” of the porters as they glide past you with 20kg on their heads, and the taste of Anton’s vegetable soup when you’re cold to your marrow.
And I have to admit, I wouldn’t have made it to Uhuru Peak without the crew at KiliAfrica. From Sanga’s mountain wisdom to Bacari’s 6:00 AM coffee-in-tent service, they turned a grueling expedition into a life-changing experience.
Standing at the Mweka Gate, clutching a piece of paper that says I stood at 5,895m, the world felt different. I was thinner, dirtier, and exhausted beyond measure—but I felt “real” in a way that modern life rarely allows.
Final Thoughts for Future Trekkers
If you’re sitting on the fence, wondering if you’re fit enough, brave enough, or “outdoorsy” enough: Just go. The mountain doesn’t care about your hiking resume. It cares about your “pole pole” spirit.
Respect the altitude, trust your guides, and pack more baby wipes than you think you need. You’ll leave a piece of yourself on those volcanic slopes, but what you bring back is worth every blister.
The only difference is I would do the trek in 7 or 8 days instead of 6.
Kili changed me. It’ll change you, too.
The Logistics: What Does it Actually Cost?
Because I know you’re wondering about the “real” numbers, here is the breakdown of my 6-day Machame trek (all prices in USD):
| Item | Cost (Approx.) | Notes |
| Trek Package | $2,600-3250 | Includes park fees, food, tents, and guides. |
| Tipping (Total) | $250–$350 | This is standard for a 6-day trek with a full crew. |
| Gear Rental | $100–$150 | For the heavy stuff (sleeping bag, down jacket). |
| Flights (KLM, Turkish, etc.) | $900–$1,300 | Varies by season and departure city. |
| Visa (VOA) | $50–$100 | $100 for US citizens, $50 for most others. |
If you’re ready to tackle the Machame Route yourself, I can’t recommend them enough. You can check out their routes at KiliAfrica, and don’t forget to use code Pierre100 for a $100 discount on your booking.
What’s Next?
Are you planning your own Kili adventure? Drop a comment below if you have questions about the rental gear in Moshi or the difficulty of the Barranco Wall—I’m happy to help you prep!
