June 2015:
I travelled from Holland to Malaga, Spain, rented a car and made my way to the Alpujarran village of Lanjaron. There I meet the group and our guide. I feel a bit nervous because I don't really know what to expect. I became an avid hiker three years ago and my most challenging adventure to-date was 110 kilometres through Swedish Lapland. My dream is to reach the top of Kilimanjaro and so I thought climbing some peaks in the Spanish Sierras would be a good test.

After we said our hellos and introduced ourselves over a cup of coffee, we are whisked away by 4-wheel drive and dropped off higher up in the mountains at 2250m. My backpack seems a lot heavier and bigger compared to those of the others. I worry that I’ve taken too much stuff. We set off around noon and aim to reach an old hut, a 'refugio', at 2400m. The forecast isn't good with a chance of rain and thunderstorms.

We don’t ascend much in altitude, we mostly trek along the flank of the mountain, and finally reach the refugio safe and dry. Our guide Felipe decides we will stay the night here so we leave our heavy luggage behind and before the sun sets, we set off with hats, gloves and rainproof clothing to visit some nearby stunning waterfalls. On the way back it snows, it is June in Southern Spain.

The next morning I wake early before sunrise. I am mesmerised by the slow appearance of the sun from behind the mountains. It is a gorgeous morning with clear blue skies.

Walking in the mountains is tough and I realise I need to rest regularly to catch my breath. I am clearly not used to exercising at altitude. Climbing is ok but I feel that the descents are a strain on my knees.

The mountainous terrains that we traverse are covered with wild thyme and rosemary. As you brush a plant, the scent is released into the air leaving a wonderful perfume trail. The changes in terrain are continuous and the higher we climb, the rockier it gets.

I am paying extra attention to where I walk but nonetheless I twist my knee. My mind races and I wonder what I can do. Felipe takes my backpack and I struggle to walk. We decide to take a break, and while I am sitting there in the most beautiful environment with no one else around but us, I decide that I haven’t come this far only to go back by helicopter! I strengthen my resolve and continue walking. Once I get into a gentle rhythm, my knee begins to feel better. I feel that it is better to keep it moving and not to allow it to stiffen up.

Thankfully though, the team decides to ease me of the burden of my backpack. This makes a big difference and we make good progress. By late afternoon we arrive at a crisp and still lake where we make camp. This long day has come to an end and the pain has subsided a bit.

The night is cold and by morning our tents are covered in frost. Thankfully the sun is up and soon warms the air. We allow our tents to dry while we're having breakfast. My knee feels ok so we decide to walk straight to our next campsite. The rest of the group and Felipe will climb the peak of Alcazaba (3305m) while I will stay behind to get some rest.

Today the campsite is in an even more special spot, by another high mountain lake that appears like an infinity pool. While the group takes off for their afternoon walk, I find a great spot in the sun to relax and enjoy being there, on top of this powerful mountain, just being.

Curious mountain goats walk past, check me out, and then continue onwards, unbelievably nimble and agile as they navigate treacherous rocky precipices.

The wind wakes me up at night, I peek my head outside my tent. The millions of stars in the clear sky take my breath away. Just to see starry skies like these you would want to camp on top of a mountain. Mulhacen, the main peak, is on the cards for tomorrow, so I better get back to sleep.

The last day... In just over two hours we complete the final stretch to the top of Mulhacen, the highest mountain of the Iberian Peninsula. I feel my I have started to get used to the altitude and I'm walking in a slow but steady pace. With my body focused on what I am doing, my emotions take over as I reach the top. Tears roll down my cheeks as I approach 3482m, the roof of the Sierra Nevada.

We all congratulate each other on reaching the top, we're all proud of one another and of ourselves. What an achievement! I wasn’t sure that I would be able to do this. It is such a fantastic feeling. I feel proud that as a 53-year old woman I am able to travel by myself, push my boundaries and conquer new challenges.

We slowly descend to 3200m, a few go for a last climb but I will not. I have reached my goal, made new friends, enjoyed the natural surroundings, the stunning scenery and the amazing views and perhaps most importantly I have developed myself and gained a better insight of who I am. I feel great!

Someday I will return to the beautiful Alpujarra at the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range with its many trails for more leisurely walks. But first I will rest my body and allow it to fully recuperate. Then I shall be back to training for my ultimate goal. Kilimanjaro here I come!