In 1953, Philip H, a foreman in a Manchester factory, was about to realise his life's dream: to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, which is almost 5,900 metres high. He was 45 years old and not a very experienced climber, but he was always quite sporty and had climbed a few peaks in the Alps years before. For him, Kilimanjaro was a mythical peak, because of its geographical location: in the middle of Africa, with savannah at its foot and snow at its summit, he had dreamed of it for a long time.

He had been saving money for several years to be able to afford this expedition, which seemed technically and physically within his reach. So he flew to Nairobi in neighbouring Kenya, where he joined the other members of the expedition. From there they travelled by jeep across the savannah to Himo, southeast of the volcano. From this point, a two-day approach march began, which would lead them to Marangua, already at 1,870 metres, the actual starting point of the ascent, which would then take about seven days round trip.

Unfortunately for Philip, he had not taken enough time to shape his studded hiking boots before the start, and after a few hours of walking, his feet were already sore. By the first evening he had numerous blisters on his feet and was wondering how he would be able to continue.

The second day was a real torture for him, he walked with a limp. He felt a great relief when he took off his boots when they finally reached the camp. But he felt that he would not be able to put them back on the next day, the first day of the climb. On the other hand, he didn't want to give up: he had invested a lot of money in this trip and he feared that he wouldn't be healthy enough in a few years to fulfil his dream.

Then he had a crazy idea: like his companions, he had taken light shoes with him, to wear in the evening when they stopped at the camps, because it was very pleasant to leave the walking shoes for lighter ones. They were a pair of black bedroom slippers, closed, with elasticated gussets, and a rather thick sole. They looked solid for slippers, and above all were very comfortable. With no other option to continue the journey, he went to Freddy, the expedition leader, and said:

- I think I'll have to continue the journey with these slippers on my feet, I can't wear my boots anymore.
- Are you kidding? said the guide. They won't last two hours before they give up, and you'll get hurt.
- I have no choice, Philipp replied, I won't put the boots back on, they've already hurt my feet.
- Then try, if you really want to, said Freddy. But we'll be crossing rivers, there will be mud, lots of mud, slippery passages and even snow at the top. It's not quite the kind of path for slippers.

The next day, the expedition was about to set off, and when they were ready to leave, one of Philipp's walking companions said to him:

- Be careful, you forgot to put on your mountain boots.
- No, that's normal. They hurt my feet, so I'm keeping these on, Philipp replied.
- Are you going to climb Kilimanjaro in house slippers? They look comfortable and sturdy, but you can't do that to them! They'll be destroyed in no time.

They set off. At the beginning, the dirt road went up steadily but was quite regular and Philipp appreciated not having heavy shoes, he felt much more agile. Most of all, he appreciated that his feet did not hurt.

After about two hours the path became more muddy. Without hesitation, Philipp plunged his slippers into the mud. It took a few steps before he could feel the moisture coming through the fabric. This had the effect of cooling his feet, he did not find it unpleasant. On the contrary, it felt good. He found that he was not slipping any more than his fellow climbers, and the day went on without a hitch.

In the evening Freddy came to see him. Philipp still had his muddy slippers on his feet.
- So, are your slippers still in one piece?
- Yes, they held, and above all my feet didn't hurt. I'm surprised: it's very comfortable to walk in slippers, even in the mud.

By the morning of the second day, Philipp's slippers had almost completely dried out during the night, and he gladly put them back on. They continued to climb. At one point they had to cross a stream, and there was no bridge at that time. So they crossed in the water. Philipp's feet got wet, of course, but the water rose higher than the boots of his fellow travellers, so that they all got wet. And it was at this point that some people began to envy Philipp's slippers, which were much nicer when wet than heavy boots. And his slippers held up well. The sole did not slip on the rocks, since the lack of relief increases the surface area. In the mud, on the other hand, Philipp had to be careful, he tended to slip a bit more than the others, but it was manageable.

And for most of the day, he found that he enjoyed walking in the mud with his slippers on. His feet were already wet, so he didn't try to avoid puddles. By evening, they were already at an altitude of almost 4,000 metres. At the camp, it turned out that, like some of the companions, he was beginning to suffer from altitude sickness.

The third day of the climb was in much rockier terrain. But his slippers still held up very well. While they did not protect his ankles, they did give him more flexibility and grip than the big, stiff shoes of his expedition companions, who had nicknamed Philipp The Slipper Climber.

On the fourth day, Philipp and three other hikers became increasingly ill from the altitude, and it began to rain at the end of the day. In principle, the rainy season was still a long way off, but as we approached the summit, it could rain more irregularly. Philipp's slippers continued to carry him without any problems.

The fifth day was supposed to be the day of the summit ascent. But due to the weather and altitude sickness, it was a rest day, they stayed in camp. And the next day they attempted to climb to the summit. Unfortunately, Philipp and half of the group had to give up in the middle of the climb, due to altitude sickness. They had no oxygen with them, and not enough food to wait several days for acclimatisation.

But Philipp still climbed to almost 5,500 metres with his slippers on, so there were some snowy passages. Even though he didn't reach the top, he was still very happy to have made the climb - and had discovered the hidden qualities of his slippers.

He made the entire descent with them on his feet, and the return journey to Himo. They survived mud, snow, rain, river crossings, scree, and many days of hard walking.
On his return to England, Philipp sent a message to the maker of his slippers about his adventure and said:

My warmest congratulations, they have been asked to do, with great success, what no slippers should be asked to climb one of the most notoriously rough and rugged mountain paths in the world.

Nailed boots are the usual wear. I had blistered my feet in the approach climb.

I used my slippers and claim to be only man who has climbed to 18,000 feet in bedroom slippers ... and they survived their unfair gruelling marvellously!

Thereafter, he regularly wore his slippers when gardening, hiking or walking in the mud, because he knew they would hold up and he loved the feeling of slippers wet with water or mud.


PS: based on a true story. A man actually climbed to 18,000 feet on Kilimanjaro in slippers and sent the above message. The details are made up.