Exotic Adventure: To the peak of Mount Giluwe (PART: THREE)

Story by Sophia Lee Taylor

 At 6am in the morning, I suddenly heard: “HELLOOO. HELLOOOO!”

 Up again, daylight. Out to meet the boss. Luke was outside my tent, gazing at me balefully as he stood in the heavy drizzle.

A creek at the camp site, few miles away from the peak. Photo courtesy of Niugini Exotic Tours/2015.

  “It is raining. It will be slippy at the top,” he said.

 I felt about as keen as he to tromp about in the mud and clamber through wet reeds and fog.

 “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ve come so far, I can’t turn back now.”

 He peered at me, “OK.” He was obviously not feeling good, and I felt for him.

 We set off after half an hour. The conditions were not great – there was thick fog all around, and every step submerged my Salomon’s into ankle-deep muddy water, to the point where my feet were constantly immersed within the boots. It wasn’t exactly cold, but the wind and drizzle didn’t help. For some insane reason I hadn’t packed my hard-shells pants and before long I was soaked to the bone from the waist down. Curses. 

A creek at the camp site, few miles away from the peak. Photo courtesy of Niugini Exotic Tours/2015.

“It is cold,” said Luke.

 We trudged on.

 Before long we were joined by Simpson and Gideon, who had given us a half hour’s head start.

 For the next two hours we trudged uphill. Every half an hour:

 “Is that Giluwe?”

 “No. It’s behind.”

 Trudge.

 “How about that one?”

 “No. Behind.”

 A creek at the camp site, few miles away from the peak. Photo courtesy of Niugini Exotic Tours/2014.

  Weird shadowy hulking forms appeared out of the mist covered with reeds and rock. It wasn’t until we were actually on the summit stretch that we could glimpse Mt. Giluwe through the fog. Things got steeper, to the point where we eventually had to climb without poles using our hands and feet to grip the wet rock. Simpson was beside me every step of the way, watching carefully, sure-footed, and helping me over the slippery rock.

 I was so focused on balance and grip that I was surprised to hear, “we are at the top!” 

 And we were!

 There was absolutely no view. It was cold and windy. But we sublated all the same, and took photos.

Me and Simpson at the summit

It was fantastic.

 The walk back to base camp was easy. We merrily toasted our socks in the fire, dried out our sodden shoes (except Simpson, who dried his feet) and ate lots of rice. The guides seemed happy with the speed of the climb, and I realised how acclimatised I still was. It was such a pleasure not to be gasping for breath for once. And after Antarctica, nothing seemed that cold anymore.

Then we set out back for the village, and it was a whole other story.

Heading back. There’s always time for photos!

Ten (10) hours of marching again! Through jetlag and fatigue! And through a dark jungle.

We were slipping down the muddy paths and sliding across fallen tree trunks in our haste to get back, and still we got caught after dark. Just as dusk turned to night, the insects started up and the jungle took on a chilling life of its own. It became very, very clear that humans had no place in a place like this.

Around 7pm, a blood-curdling screeching started up. It sounded like a mixture of a fire alarm and someone screaming in terror. I was horrified. It had to be something man-eating.

“What is that?” I asked Luke.

“Houseflies,” he said.

Man-eating houseflies then.

I won’t go into the rest. Suffice to say, two hours later I was blessedly back at the hut, having thanked and said goodbye to Gideon, Stan and Simpson, ridden in the van for an hour, thrown up in the bushes, and eaten dinner. All that mattered was that we’d achieved our goal and were tired but back safe.

Stayed a night in the wonderful Airways hotel, and then flew back to the UK. All in all, I had a wonderful time. Though I will admit Port Moresby felt iffy at times, I was very well looked after and felt pretty safe. And no Raskols in sight. If you're looking to travel to Papua New Guinea, I'd say definitely look past the sensationalist headlines, play it safe and take it all in. 

Thank you.

• The writer is the Director of Seven Volcanoes Project in the UK and a former journalist. Seven Volcanoes Project is a bid to raise funds for cancer research by climbing the highest volcano on each of the seven continents in the World. This project is dedicated to the memory of Sophie's father, Anthony Richard Taylor. She has raised over £14,000 for a cancer research from climbing mountains. The second part of the article is on the hectic journey, trekking through the thick jungles and tropical rainforest of Giluwe to the peak. Queries regarding this article contact Howarig Traders - Tourism Marketing Agent via email at: howarigc@gmail.com