ALTERNATIVE LIFE EXPERIENCE - part 1

Chapter 3.1

Thursday, June 26, 2025

Travel log Nr 3: Nairobi, 6:45am

I continue heading south. I arrived yesterday in the Kenyan capital. It's a city of contrasts. Both modern and ambitious, its overpopulation makes it a deafening city. Former colonial buildings stand alongside brand new buildings in an indescribable mess made worse by extreme traffic conditions. I found a bus bound for Kilimanjaro in an hour.

18h15

I had a good trip from Nairobi to Moshi, located in Tanzania. The two cities are connected by highway and there were dozens of mini buses like ours traveling the same path in single file. I had been well warned that at this time of year there would be a lot of people: up to 2,000 people set out every day to conquer the volcano. I don't have much choice, it's now or perhaps never. I see it from the road, this massive and powerful protuberance. It dominates, imposes and commands respect!

I found a guide, Joseph. He has done the climb 323 times. I opted for the so-called road 'Machame,' which offers a more remote and sportive ascent. I packed my bag; it weighed about 15 kilos. Joseph and I go alone, without a carrier. He has obtained our permit, so we head to Machame Gate, where we will spend the night. We will start hiking tomorrow morning.

At the foot of this juggernaut of rock and lava, I think of you. I like sharing my discoveries and adventures with you. I like to think that through reading my books, you benefit from some of my travels. I hope with all my heart that you understand me and that one day you will also have the opportunity to see what I've seen.

Originally from England, my father had followed his parents to the Middle East and lived there for the first thirteen years of his life. My grandfather worked for an international oil company, which meant a change of country every three years. Many children would have hated having to leave their home barely settled, but for my father these moves represented the opportunity for new discoveries: a new school with new classmates, a new house with a new room, a new environment with new games. Then his life was transformed when he was sent to a private boarding school in Paris, where the lifestyle had nothing to do with these hot and faraway countries. He lived in the French capital until the end of his photography studies, but he had been bitten by the travel bug and wanted to see more of the world. His dearest wish was to set out into the world with a backpack, discovering other countries, meeting different people, learning their stories and their legends.

Upon leaving university, he had tried to start a career as a freelance photographer. His journey never went beyond Brussels. It was there that he met Isabelle, my mother. 'Struck by passion,' as he said, he stayed.

On August 4, 2005, almost a year after they met, I made my entrance into the world. My father put his dream aside until I was nine or ten years old, but then the family atmosphere deteriorated. He wanted to share his desire of adventure with the two of us. My mother refused to hear anything about it. To uproot me and lug me from country to country, from city to city, from tribe to tribe, was not an option. It became an obsession with him and a subject of dispute between them.

Then, one day, despite the heavy consequences for our family, the call of the wild won.

I remember it as if it were yesterday.

That Friday, I came home from school. There wasn't a sound in the apartment. I called out my usual "It's meeeeeee!" as I came through the door. There was no answer. I dropped my schoolbag and my jacket on the chair by the entrance and found my mother in the kitchen, sitting red-eyed over a cup of hot coffee.