The sun peaked in our window and through the tiny mesh holes of my mosquito net at precisely 6 a.m.  That was my signal to stop tossing and turning and to finally lay eyes on Tanzania in daylight.

I memorized a few quick Swahili greetings and hit the road.  Less than 100 yards – guess that’s “meters” here – up the hill from the hotel, the trees parted and the mountain, famous snows and all, stood before me.

While standing there, albeit a bit week-kneed, contemplating its vastness, and marveling at how love for a beautiful woman can convince you to do almost anything, a young Chagga man walking down the street stopped, pointed to the glaciers on Kili’s top, and, with a huge grin, said, in perfect English, “It’s very fresh!”