My nephew, Samson, has just started school in Australia. He brought home a book which Gwen assumed he was meant to be reading. She was quite shocked to turn to the following page (he is five!):
She pointed out that she has gone 39 years without reading the word “lackadaisical”! (I have to say, it’s a word I love, but I did think there was an “s” after the “k” until I was well past 30.) Anyway, it is a beautifully poetic story by Eric Carle of Hungry Caterpillar fame, and seeing it reminded me of all the Kili reviews I’m reading which talk about how it’s important to go slowly. “Pole, pole” (pronounced pole-eh, pole-eh) means “slowly, slowly” in Swahili. Apparently it’s one of the most common calls of the guides and porters – presumably as they dash past us having packed up the previous campsite, to get to the next one, set up, and start preparing food, before we get there. No dashing for us though – to give ourselves the best chance of making it we will be dawdling and dillydallying from the low slopes. Mum has written about taking her watch off and just living in the moment. So we certainly won’t be lazy, but maybe – like the sloth – we will be relaxed and tranquil, and live in peace. For the first couple of days anyway!