We headed out today for a tour of a typical coffee farm along with some other Canadians and ex-pats living in Moshi. The plan was to visit the coffee farm in a village that terraces Kilimanjaro and then walk to one of the waterfalls that dot the side of the mountain. Andrew, our local Canadian resident expert has visited the waterfall and has arranged the trip for everyone. We all pack into the van and head up the side of the mountain for our adventure. Unfortunately, the rain has persisted for the night and most of the morning and the roads are very poor. As we pass each village along the way the roads deteriorate. There is very little traffic. The roads in Tanzania towns and cities are dirt tracks. There maybe a few paved roads in the main cities, but the majority of roads are dirt. This translates into deep 'Chagga' mud on the mountainside outside Moshi We travel as far as our driver feels safe to drive and stop. We have to walk the rest of the way. The driver pulls out ski or walking poles for us and we set out on the road up the mountain. This is no easy task in the deep, slippery mud that covers the road. We slip and slide and our boots get heavier and heavier. The rain continues and it is impossible not to sound like a 7 year old asking if we are there yet. My high tech trekking boots from the East Mountain Coop in New York that are designed for any trekking conditions have full out gardens weighing 4-5 libs stuck to the bottom treads of my feet. I'm barely staying upright with mud half way up my legs. And all of the Canadians are covered in mud but the locals are making their way to church services and wearing flip flops or shoes without a lick of mud anywhere. Even our guides are nicely dressed in jeans or shorts and they haven't a splat of mud anywhere. By the time I reach the farm where we are going I am huffing and puffing and covered in mud.

We pass a couple of villages on the way and Andrew asks about a ride back down on our way back. Impossible as it may seem, going up looks easier than coming down in these conditions.

Oscar, our host for the day has to assist me up the narrow path to his farm terrace after I finally slip and fall on the final ascent. Oscar is the youngest boy of 13 children and assists with the family coffee and banana farm. Everything is 'organic' and 'organic' becomes the word of the day for all of our conditions The farmers here all sell to the cooperatives after they harvest and partially dry and process the beans. They also grow a small portion of beans for sale to tourists who visit the villages. The villagers stop to see us and greet us on the road. They are not use to having 'mzungu' in their villages. By the time we reach Oscar's farm we have a small crowd of children who have followed us up the mountain.