MoshiWe cruised into the small town of Moshi, keen for some well-earned rest, and found a hotel. Karen crashed out, but although exhausted I went for a wander around town. It was stinking hot in Moshi, it would have been energy sapping if I had any in the first place. There wasn't much to the town, but I feared that if I stopped moving I would seize up for good.We ate at a small Italian restaurant near our hotel, but were horrified but the abundance of white faces in there, tourists. Of late we had become traveller snobs of sort, and tried to avoid places like this by dining in local establishments. There's just something about it that bugs us.We spent the next day in Moshi doing - well not much really. It was a chore to simply climb down from the second floor of our hotel, and our bodies ached. Late in the afternoon and the imposing Mt Kili standing above the town revealed itself from behind the clouds, as if to remind of us of our feat one last time, I reckon it looked like a giant Christmas pudding dripping with custard - just like youd see on the box.That night we steered clear of the Italian joint and dined on bbq'd goat at a crazy local bar down the road where the masses had gathered to watch English football. We had become quite fond of our four-legged friends………. especially salted and with a little chilly sauce, mmmmm.