Author Archives: rosacb90

Gold Coast

My birthday began in Piha, New Zealand and ended in The Gold Coast, Australia. it lasted 27 hours and I blagged my way out of paying $130 for my luggage being overweight. A pretty special day all in all.

So I’m never really prepared for the weather in my subsequent destination. I have been surprised by snow in Peru, daily storms in Colombia and getting chilly in Ecuador. Clearly I still haven’t learned (to maybe just google the weather report). Who knew Austrailia would be so freakin hot?! On my first full day here the mercury was tipping 37! So I wisely decided to go for a jog at midday with my friend and Brasiliaussie host, Renata.

At the start of the run/walk I spotted my first proper Aussie arachnid! Framed against a blue blue sky towards Sufers Paradise. Yes there’s a town called Surfers Paradise here. And that’s the kind of place The Gold Coast is. Everyone looks so healthy and bronzed with sun kissed hair. On the short journey we passed walkers, runners, surfers, swimmers, cyclists, body boarders, kite surfers, paddle boarders, skaters and probably some more obscure sports I can’t remember. On a weekday lunchtime. It really does inspire you to be part of the moving masses! Seeing exercise ingrained into a society is a breath of fresh air. Ok so in the UK we don’t have so many white sand surf beaches or year-round sun bleached promenades. And I know Coronation Street is great, but more needs to be done to inspire people off their sofas and into some sweaty activity!

After a very short time running I was ‘the colour of a newborn piggy’; Ren’s words. It was ridiculously hot and my shoulders were screaming with sunburn. We passed this cool truck before slowing to a walk and lapping up water from the water fountains conveniently stationed along the promenade. I will be timing my next run here more carefully. Like maybe the middle of the night or something.

Piha4

4 Replies

It’s my birthday! I’ve simultaneously hit 25 and the ground running! Quite literally, the first thing I did in my 25th year was go for a run. It was also my last day in Piha, and bounding away from the hostel I knew instantly my final jogging destination on the black sands had to be Lion Rock.

It was just a short run from the hostel to the beach and the base of the beast. Feeling energised and imagining the many new opportunities and experiences 25 will bring, I went for those steps like a bitch on heat. I scrambled a little further after the path ended but opted out of the full climb; the steep slopes and falling rocks looked a little precarious for my wine-legs (maybe the birthday-eve celebrations had affected me more than I’d thought). I found a comfy rock and sat silently contemplating my time in Piha; the new friends, places and experiences enjoyed here.

One aim for my time in Piha was to get out on the ocean and ride some gnarly breaks. Ok so the surf lingo perhaps doesn’t suit me but I’m beginning to feel slightly less of a novice where it matters: on the waves! My last night in Piha was the perfect send-off: I managed for the first time to paddle out to waves in deeper water, upgrading from the white water. So I only caught one wave and didn’t even stand up on the board but it’s progress! And my wish to be one of the bobbing surfers at sunset was granted: watching another drop-dead sundown out on the sea was as good as I’d imagined; being next to new friends from around the world made it even more special.

In my next destination more surf awaits. And the pilot on the plane I’m riding just said we’re flying over to 28 degree heat! Where?! The Gold Coast, Australia! In a shocking plot twist and ‘YOLO’ moment, I booked flights for a holiday from my travels to visit a friend down under. Well when am I going to get the chance to pop to Oz on my birthday again? And what are credit cards for…?

Piha3

7 Replies

Last night I witnessed the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. I stood in the shallows, looking out to the golden, blue and pinky sky; to the surfers just bobbing on their boards, facing the same way as I, disappearing behind the huge 2-3m waves which swelled between them and me; these waves which grew and crashed and rushed towards me, diminishing with every metre they travelled until they lapped gently at my calves and the sun shone golden on the temporary frothy calm behind each one.

I have seen some amazing spectacles on my travels so far: Machu Picchu; Caribbean beaches; Volcanic lagoons. However this is the first time an incredible sight has stirred such emotion in me. I felt like crying, or being sick, or something equally overdramatic. Maybe I only reacted like this because I had already been beaten down and battered; physically and clearly emotionally, by the scene I was now in awe of; I had just attempted surfing for the first time in New Zealand.

One of my intentions whilst in Piha was to learn to surf. After being here for one week of my total three, and having been surfing once, I have revised this aim to improving my surfing. Like maybe standing up on the board for more than a second. For many kiwis, surfing and the sea are what they have been brought up on. Not me. The sea kind of scares me; in fact I have recurring nightmares about big waves washing me away. But I’m the kind of woman who refuses to fear anything: confronting would-be intruders in the night (noisy pipes) with big spanners; ridding houses of large spiders; travelling the world alone. Trying to surf at New Zealand’s wildest beach is just my style.

You’ve probably guessed how my first surf lesson went. I was just practicing catching waves in the white water (broken waves near the beach) and getting generally battered and bruised by the sea, my board, and swept scarily towards Lion Rock. And I really hurt my bum. But I’m not giving up! Totally intended to go for an early morning surf before brekkie today but after a bad night tossing and turning (probably more tidal wave dreams), I’ve had a lazy day, ending with an evening run to try and catch another sensational sun-down, this time on foot.

I left the hostel with a surge of the energy which had escaped me all day. Running my usual route through Piha, up hilly Garden Road to then turn to the beach, I spotted a track which I hadn’t used before, with many steep steps. I picked this route and with another miraculous energietic burst, turned back at the bottom of the steps and did them all again! I’m just mental, me like.

Once my lust for steps had been satisfied, I carried on to the beach, as the sunlight began to turn pinky-golden. Approaching the beach the sky was reflected perfectly in the creek which runs past Lion Rock to the sea.

I had timed my run perfectly, the sunset was getting into full swing as I pranced across the sand. Again many walkers, swimmers and surfers had turned out for the daily treat. I saw a girl of around 6 with presumably her dad, surfing on the white water. She caught a wave perfectly to whoops, hugs and high-fives from her dad and I couldn’t help but beam. The peace and beauty was only broken by a little dog barking incessantly at it’s reflection in the mirror-like pools in the sand. I’ll let it off though, such amazing spectacles can bring about strange reactions after all.

Piha2

Leave a reply

Morning motivation is not always easy to come by. My very first blog post highlighted the benefit of nice clothes to aid motivation. Other sources of get-up-and-go could be a future goal, maybe training for a race or an event. Here in Piha my a.m. inclination arrives when I open the curtains. Even after beers and late night monopoly (cray cray, I know), a glimpse out the window at the terrific terrain makes retreating back under the duvet a travesty. When I drift back to this time last year, living and working in Manchester, UK: walking to work in the dark; long working hours; short daylight hours; walking home in the dark, I’m pretty happy with my life choices right now. This morning I laced up my new sneaks (still serving me well), and bounded away on a trail run before work, to the nearby Kitekite waterfall.

The trail winds through the bush, with some good little hills and plenty for the eyes to feast on. After just 15 minutes or so I caught a glimpse of the waterfall through the trees and came down to the pool at the base. I spent a few minutes enjoying the peace (I didn’t see a soul on the trail) but didn’t go for a dip. Maybe next time.

Descending back along the trail I took a bit more time to stay steady on the steep bits and appreciate my surroundings. This area of bush was once a kauri forest, before being stripped of the valuable trees by the early 20th century. There are now young kauri trees growing here again, which one day will hopefully reach the stature of their awesome ancestors, with diameters of up to 5 metres, living over 1000 years. This one is probably less than 100 years old, with a diameter of about 60cm.

Kauri trees are now protected from loggers, but face a new threat of kauri die back disease. A disinfectant station at the start of the trail is part of the effort to quell the spread and protect New Zealand’s fave leafy giant. A huge hollow kauri stump of around 3m diameter still stands at the mouth of the trail, reminding bush-goers just how big these bad boys can get.

I was back at the hostel after a very enjoyable half-hour run, ready to start my duties and spend another day in pleasing Piha.

Piha

Leave a reply

I have many memories of Piha from my previous times in New Zealand as a child: the black sand burning your feet; the wild surf; waves crashing through ‘The Gap’; Lion Rock. So I was excited to return after 13 years, now I’m all grown up. I’m going to be here for the next 3 weeks, volunteering at a hostel for free accommodation. I may have hit the location jackpot here, especially compared to my previous volunteering location; lacking Latacunga. Ok so Piha may be lacking a few things: a bar which stays open after dark; a supermarket; a cashpoint… But it really does make up for these shortcomings in natural beauty and outdoor opportunities. Thanks to this there is a steady stream of travellers, surfies, weekenders and more which keep the place alive and vibrant.

Piha is renowned in New Zealand as a top surf spot. It is also known for the dangerously strong currents and rips which pull surfers, swimmers and kids in dinghys out to sea. So much drama goes down on the black sands in fact, a TV series ‘Piha Rescue’ has been established, documenting the everyday heroics of the Piha Surf Life-Savers. I’m under strict instructions from my family to swim between the flags whilst wearing my best bikini, just incase I somehow end a starring role.

On my first morning in Piha I set my alarm with time for a quick run before I started work at the hostel. The skies were blue and the sun sparkled on the morning dew. I made my way to the South Beach along the little roads which are dotted with enviable holiday baches. My grandparents used to have a bach here, which I passed on the same road as the hostel. It still has the name my grandad carved from wood hung on the gate, Te Arawhata; ‘steps’, in Maori.

I made it to the beach feeling fresh and invigorated, though maybe not so much as the surfers, who were catching the first waves of the day on a sparkly sea. South Beach is dominated by a majestic beast, known as Lion Rock: a huge rock formation which looks like a a lion, keeping guard of Piha and looking out to sea. It is just as I remember it as a child and this time it was lit by a magical morning glint.

After a short run down the beach I turned and headed back the hostel, ready for my first day of work, feeling energised and very happy to be here.

Auckland2

Leave a reply

New Zealand is off to a great start for me. I’ve had a fab time since arriving 10 days ago: spending time with my Dad, family and old friends; going to the bach at Whangapoua; seeing places I haven’t visited since childhood; enjoying the great food and drink, gorgeous weather and general beauty of New Zealand.

Die-hard readers will recall my historic pre-travel posts, before I had ran away from the UK. Well my beloved trainers are not so fresh and so clean these days. Since they are minimalist transition to barefoot sneaks, they were never very robust in supporting my humble hooves on longer runs. However they’ve done me proud over the last four months; we’ve been through A LOT together. Now training with my super-fit father, their shortfalls and loose threads are beginning to show. Luckily I am in a developed country which has the UK shoe sizes printed in the tongues of trainers! Dad to the rescue: he bought me some nifty yellow New Balance runners. They must be magic because they somehow make even MY legs look tanned! What more could you want from a trainer?

I test drove the new penny loafers with my papá yesterday on the same North Shore route as last week. It was a cloudy morning, making for cooler and more pleasant running conditions. The views weren’t quite as great but the people of Browns Bay were undeterred and the beach was full of dog walkers and early morning exercisers. Due to a combination of the cooler climate and familiarity of the route, I felt more energised and ready for the hills, twists and turns and did a better job this time round. The trainers held up well and I cooled down with blister-free feet. It was the last run I will enjoy with my Dad for a long time; let’s hope I can stick to the pace and distance once he’s gone!

Tomorrow I leave Auckland for another new beginning; volunteering in Piha, a surfy beachy place I also remember from my days as a New Zealand nipper. My Dad is heading back to the UK and I’ll be a Lone Ranger once again; just me, my new trainers and the open road. Only now I won’t be too far from a familiar face; having family somewhere nearby is a comforting thought. The NZ unknown is calling and I have so much to see, bring on the next 6 months!

Whangapoua

2 Replies

‘Harbour of the Shellfish’ is the translation from Maori, of Whangapoa; a beautiful bay and estuary, rich with shellfish and native bush. Evidence suggests it may have been the first arrival point of humans in New Zealand, when intrepid Polynesian explorers arrived here 900 years ago, having sailed the Pacific in dug-out canoes. And it’s no wonder they decided to settle here.

Many people are still making the most of the natural bounties and beauties in the area, including my kiwi family. My aunty and uncle own a bach, or holiday getaway here (pronounced as in batch of scones, rather than cello suite in G major). They have done an amazing job: building a little house on the land; an outdoor pizza oven, and making the garden and outdoor areas generally lovely. After an evening making the most of the beauty, booze, food and views, I woke to a gorgeous sunrise, snoozed a bit more, laced up my trainers and was ready for another run with my dad.

It was a glorious morning and we ran down to the main road into Whangapoa, making our way along to the jetty. I’ve found the weather here in New Zealand to be just my cup of tea; hot but not too hot, not muggy or humid, and with a cool breeze when you need it. I swear my health and beauty has flourished in the past week thanks to this, even with the plentiful wine and luxurious food I’ve enjoyed. I seem to have got more tanned here in one week than in the whole 15 weeks in South America, and I haven’t even tried!

It was bank holiday weekend and the road and jetty was abuzz with other weekenders: fishing, boating, canoeing, running and cycling. How better to spend a long weekend than in the great outdoors? And the outdoors is certainly great here in New Zealand! After our run (ending on the killer hill back up to the bach), the day was spent on the beautiful Matarangi beach with all the family. Then another night at the bach with fresh pizzas and flowing drinks.

I enjoyed and extra long sleep and woke to see my dad in his running gear, ready to kick start the day with another run. We headed away from the coast and towards the areas of forest inland. Green fields and rolling hills surrounded us, a field of lambs and a ram stopped and stared as we passed. I had forgotten what a beautiful country New Zealand is in my 13 years away. I can’t wait to see more of it, especially if I make it to the South Island.

After an hour or so running, ending with the mega hill back up to the bach (which I managed second time around!), my legs were pleasingly achy for the rest of the weekend and I indulged in more kiwi culinary delights including the biggest ice cream I’ve ever eaten!

Auckland

1 Reply

From Peru to New Zealand in less than a day (but kind of in 2, given the time difference). I landed at 4am on Wednesday and spent the day napping, hiding from the rain and trying to work out what time it is in various countries. So why NZ? The largest chunk of my year around the world will be spent here, working and saving some much needed cash for further travels. I chose NZ because aside from it being a beautiful, fun and friendly place to live for 6 months or so, it is where my Dad is from. So with half my family here and a dual citizenship waiting to be made the most of, I’ve been excited to get here and rediscover my kiwi side. After 13 years away I am so excited to be back!

For the second time on my trip my longing for home, family and friends has been alleviated by a visiting faraway face; this time, my Dad. Aside from gifting me with kiwi heritage (and passport!), I have inherited my running legs from my Dad. Despite now being 60, he is a running force to be reckoned with! I seriously doubt there will ever be a point in our lives that I will pep him to the finish line in a race. So who better to have as a running partner; to whip me back into shape after my running schedule has become a bit too relaxed over the last 15 weeks?

I woke soon after dawn to weather in contrast to yesterday; the sun beating down and a pleasing breeze puffing. We hit the road from my aunty and uncle’s house in Browns Bay, a suburb of Auckland where my Dad grew up as a kid. Within a few minutes we were down at Browns Bay beach, sharing the scene with just a handful of other early birds. From the beach you can see over to Rangitoto Island; a volcanic island whose silhouette is etched into my memory from my time living close to it as a child. In my 2 days here so far, so many things have triggered memories of NZ which have drifted dormant in my brain for years: the taste of hokey pokey ice cream; the whistling of cicadas in the trees; the thrill of wearing no shoes when I went to school…

Our run took us past Browns Bay and on to Waiake Bay, another little beach facing Rangitoto. My Dad was my personal guide and historian en-route, pointing out his and my aunty’s old school (Browns Bay School), his old Scout Hut (still there after 50 or more years), and showing how the area has developed from being largely covered in wild bush, to a busy and built-up town. Despite my various hilly runs in SA (Bogota and Mindo spring to mind), undulating Auckland and in particular Deep Creek Road got my lungs and legs pumping; I was feeling the burn! After a faster and longer run than I’ve been attempting recently (nevertheless a breeze for my Dad), we made it back to the house for a (rather rosy) post-run selfie before cooling down.

Lima2

1 Reply

And I came full circle. Well, wiggly oval really. My last run in South America, the same place as my very first. My mind drifted back to that first run:the nerves in the traffic; the shock of the misogyny; the sunburn; will I get mugged/attacked/fall over?! I’m not sure if it counts as wisdom but I am certainly more chilled out than on my arrival. Which my homegirls and boys may find hard to believe since calmness has (pretty much) always prevailed over panic with me. Man I am just so laid back these days. I don’t smoke da reefer but I reckon these days one could induce an irreversible horizontality in me. Best stick to the natural endorphin highs of running.

Not one to lose my British roots and traditions, I hit the tiles on Saturday night on a farewell foray binge in Lima. Feeling less than fresh on Sunday it took me a while to emerge from my bunk and get running. I finally managed late on in the afternoon. One thing I have learned whilst travelling is that my beloved binge culture stands firmly with the Brits and Aussies. South Americans (and everyone else) are quite content to have a few drinks and dance without losing all memory and dignity of the night. So whilst my traditional hangover was limited to me and my party pals from the night before, the people of Lima were upholding their own Sunday traditions: spending time with their families. My run took me to Parque Raimondi, perched above the cliffs of Lima and overlooking the ocean. Running through the busy park and seeing the families, friends and couples enjoying happy wholesome days really blew the cobwebs off and put a smile on my face.

The first scene I met at the park was of a large statue of a couple having an impassioned fumble, set against the ocean backdrop. Glancing down I couldn’t help but grin when I noticed the lawn strewn with enamoured couples. *sigh*. The beauty of life imitating art. Latino lovers show their love. In public, lots. South America has clearly turned the cynic within me soft, thinking back to UK life; where a couple snogging in the bus seat in front would have got my eyes rolling.

Further along Parque Raimondi I passed many more happy families and companions enjoying the fruits of a beautiful Sunday afternoon. A large group of people, young and old, finessed their tight-rope walking skills between the palm trees. A group performed capoeira to crowds on the grass. Dogs were walked, bikes rode, and faces shone.

The first chapter of my adventures running away closes. And what a colourful chapter it has been. So many places, people, parties, new friends, nights out, beauty, babes, boys, runs and memories. And I wouldn’t change a thing. I am so excited for the new horizons waiting to be run to in New Zealand. I won’t be met with stares of bafflement for being a running gringo, I will be able to put my toilet paper in the toilet, and I will be able to get change for a 20 without the shop person looking at me like I’d just stabbed their fave llama. Can’t wait.

Huanchaco

Leave a reply

Mancora chewed me up and spat me out; before I had a chance to sober up I was on a night bus heading South. That place is a bottomless pit, albeit a very fun bottomless pit with lots of lovely people inside. It’s a good job I’m on a schedule at the moment, working my way down to Lima for a flight on Monday. Otherwise you may have found me still there next month; propping up/dancing on the bar, having accepted a job, paid in bunk bed and liquid form.

After 11 hours on that night bus, with a barely reclining seat, sandwiched between the window and a fat man, motivation was also struggling to find me in Huanchaco, my next stop. At least I’d had a seat this time (my seatless night bus from The Ecuadorian border to Mancora is really up there as a pinnacle of low points on my trip). But after a lazy day, chilling on the beach rather than venturing into the desert to visit ruins, an evening run on the beach really sorted me out and stopped me feeling sorry for myself.

Huanchaco is another coastal town, favoured by Peruvians, pelicans and a handful of travellers. The beach was still buzzing as I headed out whilst the sunlight started to die; many families from the nearby city of Trujillo and surrounding areas visit Huanchaco for the sun, sea and ceviche. Built on the coast of the Sechura desert, the heat is pretty searing during the day. Early evening was the perfect time to work up a sweat on the sand. It wasn’t such the meditative, primal kind of beach run I have enjoyed in places like Tayrona, Colombia or Canoa, Ecuador. I needed my wits about me, concentrating on the ground to avoid the many stones and children littering the beach.

Huanchaco is a fishing town, where the fisherman favour traditional canoes made from reeds. The boats are all lined up against the wall of the beach, creating silhouettes which pointed up at the sky like tall, erect bananas. I also found this Pelican chilling, feeling pangs of nostalgia when I thought back to the same thing happening on my very first run in South America, in Lima back in October last year.

As I got further around the beach, the crowds were thinning. I enjoyed watching the surfers catch the last few waves of the day, the Pelicans their last few fish. After enough post-night bus exertion I retired back to the hostel and to a bunk bed sleep I felt I’d really earned.

rosarunningaway

My experiences running, around the world.

Author Archives: rosacb90

Gold Coast

Piha4

Piha3

Piha2

Piha

Auckland2

Whangapoua

Auckland

Lima2

Huanchaco

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: