Find the world’s greatest charity cycle tour, The Old Legs Tour, and throw yourself in with anticipation.After a year of not so serious planning, pack everything you don’t need and then some. Except for any form of long pants as that’s against my religion. Put rubber to tar heading north to the infamous Kili. Take in the scenic 50km p/h 3000km journey to the middle of nowhere.
After hearing it’s -20 degrees at Kili summit reconsider your Kili ambitions. Seriously, reconsider it. Now with some very strategic, near journeys end and at a minimum of at least 3 days drive from any form of local rural clinic let alone hospital. Climb onto the back of a trailer. At least 2m high. The higher the better (To look extremely busy) As if you are doing something extremely important.
Make sure the tour group of unsuspecting cyclists are dictorally critically overseeing your efforts. With great gymnastic skills, slowly but violently, throw yourself off the back, landing a double backflip, three quarter summersault, ankle twisting dismount.
Now here’s the tricky part. Ensure you howl as loudly as you can while strangling your ankle with a death grip. (This ensures it swells faster). Proceed to roll around face first in the dirt, like a kid making snow angels in the sand.
Wait for the mass hysteria to ensue while all self proclaimed doctors come running at your aid. Make sure you let out a groan or moan every few seconds. Wait for the sh*ts and *effs to come rolling off tongues while diagnosing what just happened. At this point you in for a good game of being doted upon.
Get fed fruit, drinks and cold face clothes to ease the pain while strapping of the injured ankle. Bathe in the attention for as long as you can. You now have 3 days to milk it before any form of Professional diagnosis is available. Do not move or show any form of usefulness. if you get this right you’ll have a doctorates in acting from the University Of Life.
For the next 3 days Sit back and watch all the minions scatter around to help in anyway possible as you bask in all the sympathy from the group. Occasionally feeling sorry for yourself, throw some acting in the mix and show severe signs of pain, with on inspection of the now fractured ankle, insist the swelling is worse. Be convincing, really really convincing. This will come into practice sitting on the doctors table for diagnosis.
In the meantime, select only your best Apple music 30 seconds to Mars playlist and throw your own party in your tent when hallucinating on ibuprofen, painkillers and sleeping pills. If anyone asks, insist it’s still sore and you need more.
After reaching a small town with some miniscule sign of medical treatment, Insist on seeing only the best doctor available in Africa, which is the equivalent of a self taught traditional medicinal healer. Get x-rayed, be assured it’s a fracture, get a cast and hobble out on crutches. For the next day whilst heading to the base of the beast, be sure to show the shear frustration of an itchy leg from the ill placed cast.
After some days, eventually arriving at Kilimanjaro, be sure to pick the most overcast day. Make it all the way to the base of the beast take a photo of very romantic clouds, see absolutely no sign of the big rock, having no proof of ever being there, quickly head to the nearest local pub for a photo in front of a great artistic rendition of Kilimanjaro. Proceed to be disappointed as much as actually not seeing Kili because someone decided to throw clouds around.
Strap yourself in the back of an old Nissan patrol and make your way back 3000km at less than 50km an hour as you marvel at your glorious water painting Kili photo.
PS. At least one ankle was injured and harmed in the making of this article!
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