An early start, back in the truck complete with armed escort, on our way to climb Mount Nyirargongo. At 3470m rising above Goma and the shores of Lake Kivu it is one of Africa’s most active volcanos. It’s a 6 hour climb to the top and then an overnight stop on top of the cliffs above the crater rim. We did hire the “full porter pack” so we didn’t have to carry all our gear but even so it was a really tough 2000m altitude climb. There are 4 rest stops en route with a lunch break at point 3. Between 3 and 4 I felt more than a little broken, everything hurt but by this point the only way was up. The rest of the family were going strong and the guides set a really steady pace, I worked out that we stopped for a breather about every 1500 steps so it was just a case of putting one foot in front of the other. By the time we got to rest stop 4 we could see that the summit was just a short (although very steep) climb and life seemed much better. Cara sprinted up the last part like a mountain goat. She was at the summit by the time I was a quarter of the way. My porter walked up with me and several times refused to go past, he was very young, suffering with blisters, with a huge pack on his back but stuck with me, chatting in broken French. As with almost everyone we have met here he was softly spoken with a gentle manner. When we reached the top we high fived and I gave him some plasters and painkillers to help his poor feet (all the guides climb in wellies which can’t be the most comfortable).
The view at the top is like nothing earthly, it’s very cold and sheer grey windswept cliffs plummet into the main crater which is at least 600m deep with an average diameter of 1.2km. It’s like a huge natural cauldron of bubbling lake of lava stew. The surface pattern swirls in a constantly changing pattern as blackened crusts of magma collide, crumble and melt, spewing bright red jets of molten rock up to 30m high. It conjours up images of Dante’s Inferno or Smaug’s mountain lair. As the daylight fades the glowing lava lights up a creeping red mist. We sat on a bench with Fei a Chinese tourist who came up with us, huddled together watching the display, it was a unique experience to share and well worth the climb. We unpacked our sleeping bags and discovered that the porter pack also included warm jackets and fleeces. As we had brought our own from home we dished these out to grateful guides. The one who used the super warm furry hooded one wore it with the hood up most of the way down the mountain the following day. As we unpacked our bags Geoff discovered that his new cold weather base layer was in fact a short sleeved t-shirt (having discovered the previous day that the other one only had 3/4 sleeves). Much hysterical laughter followed at his expense.
Dinner was quite astounding, soup and bread followed by pork, chips and ratatouille all cooked in a tiny hut over a charcoal grill. After a final death defying (thank God for head torches and caring daughters) trip to the pit toilet perched on the edge below the cabins we snuggled down fully clothed into warm sleeping bags and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
Pirate Travels 