Tag Archives: beach

Auckland3

I’ve got a few days of downtime in Auckland before the big move to my new home (home still to be found) in Queenstown. The perfect opportunity to get some leg pumping action, aka running done. I was over in Whangapoua at the weekend and completed an energised morning run of hill reps. Now even I struggle to make light of running up and down the same hill repeatedly so there’s no post on that. However I completed a nice run this morning on the route from Browns Bay, which I ran with my Dad a few times earlier in the year.

As ever, Browns Bay beach was teeming with dog walkers. There were some lovely dogs about but both I and them were moving too quickly for pictures so I got another classic snap looking towards Rangitoto Island.

This route also passes my old South American fave the local urban gym. Ok so evidently every country outside the UK has these, but I saw it in South America first! And for the first time on my travels the urge struck for me to get reppin’ on the bars. Glancing around for onlookers, like a naughty child just about to poke his finger in a dangerous hole, or myself stealing a grape in the supermarket, I confirmed that the coast was clear and made for the pull-up bar. Those who know me will know that my New Years resolution every year (well maybe the past 2 years), was to be able to do a full pull up. Even when I was training at my old beloved boxing gym 2-3 times a week in Manchester I never made it. C’mon 2015, this is our year! As in me and my biceps’. Surprisingly I haven’t magically summoned the power to perform a pull up in my travel time but I completed a few jump pull-ups (basically just jumping instead of using your arms), and set off on my way again.

Further along the route I heard a strange collection of noises I peered to the sky to identify the perpetrator. Of course it was the New Zealand native bird, the tui. Or the animal kingdom’s sonic response to the dial-up internt tone. Maybe the tui came first, who knows; one of life’s great mysteries. The tui also wears a pimpin’ white cravat of curly white plumage. All in all, an eccentric fella.

On my way again, I bounded up those long Auckland hills like a mountain goat; the hill reps in Whangapoua clearly served me well. Back at the family abode I was happy to see my time was similar to the times I’d completed with my Dad in February. So Dad, think twice before you email me again asking if my trainers are gathering dust!

Byron Bay

3 Replies

Going for a run was not the first thing that sprang to mind when I woke this morning. “I need water” was definitely riding high on my train of thoughts though. Yesterday we had enjoyed Byron to its full potential: surfing; beach bumming; having a party in a camper van and drinking A LOT. I don’t remember being chucked out of the club we went to for the effects of this quantity but I’m told it happened. And the chilli sauce all over my leg supported the late night falafel tale I had also been told.

So: to the beach! After opting for a juice called ‘detox’ at one of Byron’s many fresh and fruity alternative eateries, with so much ginger it tasted a bit too much like curry to perk me up, I collapsed on the beach to understanding moans and groans of my party comrades. I’d come this far, to this famous little hippy haven, it would have been a real shame to miss out the running and blogging. Numbing myself with a prescription painkiller, I took some time curled in the foetal position to collect and prepare myself; mentally, physically and emotionally.

Crunch time arrived, and while my friends went for lunch, I ran away down the beach, barefoot and determined. I had my eye on the far end of the long curving beach and set off towards the point. It was Monday morning, not a time to dread for Byron beach bums however. The place was alive with surfers, swimmers, families, people doing yoga… Man I cannot fault these Aussies’ lifestyle choices. If I could find a means to live the beach lifestyle long term I would. In fact maybe I will. I have been more than a little bit tempted to stay here in Australia to live, but I’m sticking to my plans for now, reminding myself of the new paradises I still have to discover. Australia, unlike me, is not going anywhere.

After a surprisingly pain free (thank you, codeine) ten minutes or so running I made it to the rocky point at the end of the bay. I ran up the steps to the lookout point on the rocks, the pains of the morning forgotten; blown away by the cool winds from the ocean. I stood and watched the bobbing surfers below, feeling an urge to join them in the azure ocean. Satiated, I ran back along the beach and treated myself to a dip in the shallows. Hangovers in paradise aren’t so bad, I guess.

Gold Coast 2

Leave a reply

After my midday mistake last run in Aus, this time I went for a more carefully considered sun-down run. Whist Ren was omming it out at yoga, I sweated it out (it was still 28 degrees), on a moonlight beach run.

Despite the sun having gone to bed, the beach was still busy as I set off up the sand towards Surfers Paradise. I had gazed at the futuristic, glassy high rise skyline from other points along The Gold Coast, so was looking forward to seeing it close up for the first time. I am a big fan of wild beaches, where jungle meets sand, and I’ve enjoyed some primal barefoot beach runs in my travels so far. However Surfers Paradise is quite the opposite, and unlike any beach I’ve ever visited. High rise buildings burst from the beach, and as the sunlight died, the cityscape began to light up and twinkle, reflecting in the sea below. I’m not sure it would count as my surfers’ paradise but it’s was an impressive sight all the same.

Since I’m on the East Coast, there’s no daily treat of a sunset out to sea. I’m pretty go-getting and active but can’t see myself making it down there for sunrise either…the other day we were pumped and ready for an early surf. We hit the waves at 7am and it was so busy we felt like we were late. These surfers really have got their priorities sorted: early to beer; early to bed (maybe); early to surf! So with no sunset to devour, the glinting skyline was the main feats for the eyes.

After about half an hour of running and snapping a few pics, I was alongside the biggest and spangliest of the beachfront buildings. I turned back around, satisfied that an hour in total running would suffice. Back at the entrance to the beach where I’d started, I had some post-run time to spare and decided to go for a pleasure paddle whilst cooling down.

From the shallows, the view back up to the city looked more impressive than ever, with the light pollution giving the clouds a trippy glow. It was a bit of a zen moment but I was deterred after about 10 minutes of putting up with mystery beings brushing against my feet. I couldn’t quite make it to the meditative state I was pursuing, with images of the little blue jellyfish I had spotted washed up on the shore earlier; the very same kind that had stuck to my leg in the surf a few days earlier giving me a strange rash. I left the sea; yet again surviving the Aussie poison beasties to fight (and run) another day.

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!

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.

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.

Canoa2

Leave a reply

The sun blazes pinky orange, setting over the Pacific Ocean around 6:30 every evening in Canoa. So at 6pm yesterday I decided to head out for what will probably be my final coastal run in Ecuador. Barefoot, I headed South down the beach, away from the town (watching out for spiky shells).

Canoa’s long, long beach is home to a variety of creatures (seabirds, vultures, weird wriggly worms, snails…). But my favourite has to be the hundreds of bright red crabs who wile away their days digging little holes in the sand and then standing guard halfway out of said hole. In the five days I spent in Canoa, playing a game of chicken with these little guys; seeing how long they would stare you out before they plopped down into their den, never got old. It certainly made the first km or so of my run fly by. Then I found a sorry little crab flailing and stuck in his little hole which had caved in with the incoming tide. Ungratefully, he pinched me when I tried to save him but I think maybe his eyes had been pecked off so he was having a pretty rough day and I couldn’t really blame him for being bad company.

After 20 minutes or so running the sun was almost down and the light was dying so I turned back to the hotel. Unfortunately my camera isn’t the best so didn’t really capture the colours and beauty of the sunset to its full effect.

I really enjoyed my stay in Canoa, I’ve left now and am writing this on the bus to Guayaquil. It was a great place to keep active (swimming, surfing, volleyball, football, walking and of course running), without paying for expensive day trips or activities. Compared to cities and towns (think Mindo’s driveways/Quito’s altitude), beach running really is a no brainier; beautiful, super easy navigation and best friends with hench legs! What’s not to love?

Canoa

Leave a reply

Christmas: if not family, then what is it all about? Celebrating the birth of Christ maybe. But for me, mostly family. And despite largely being a solo traveller, at one with the open road and nothing else, I was lucky enough to have a (partial) family Christmas. That part of my family would be my mum, who has travelled to Ecuador to spend a few weeks of the festive season with me. Not only am I lucky enough to have a mum happy to travel with me, she is also up for running with me. Our Christmas Day was far from traditional and began with an early morning run on the beach together.

Awoken bright and early by la madre, clearly the tables have turned since the days I was up before the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, desperate to get stuck in to my stocking. After a not so early night on the tiles (sand), it took a few nudges and some persuasion before I was up and ready to go. Aside from the rum-head, I was slightly battered and bruised from a surf lesson the day before. I had also trodden on a ridiculously spiky shell and still had (have) some pieces of the little bastard in my left heel. Undeterred(ish), we hit the beach.

It was early morning and thus cool enough to enjoy a run out of the searing equatorial sunshine. The sky was cloudy but bright and it was shaping up to be a glorious day; a world away from the chilly Christmas the rest of my family were enjoying back in the UK. The beach was already gently buzzing with people enjoying walks, runs and even some swims to kick off their Christmas Day. Barefoot running on the beach, the sea lapping at my toes, is probably one of my favourite ways to start any day. I wonder how I could incorporate it into the usual festive traditions back home. After a brisk and refreshing run we returned to the hotel to exchange our gifts. No stocking for Rosa this year!

Later in the day we headed into Canoa for our Christmas dinner (ceviche, beer and ice cream). The beach was alive and singing with hoardes of families enjoying their Christmas in the sun. It was lovely to see an alternative to the traditions back home and to have my mum there. Nevertheless I couldn’t help but look forward to Christmas next year, with all of my family. And lots of cheese and wine.

Palomino

Leave a reply

Another day, another beach, another hammock. This time in Palomino, a sleepy village further up the coast from Tayrona. With no ATM, and having been paying for paradise, I was on a budget. Luckily my hammock was cheap, I grabbed a bargain ‘menu del dias’ and found a man selling big bags of mangoes for about 60p. I bagged a free ride back from the village on the back of a motorbike, driven by a man with a huge machete strapped to his leg (still not really sure how that came about). My finca (hostel)’s health and safety advice was to beware of falling coconuts, and my biggest concern in the world was how I would get the mango string out of my teeth. Sleepy with the sea air, I got an earlyish night in my new fave sleeping device.

Waking early to the sounds of the sea, seems to be a catalyst for an unusual hunger for running. Barefoot again I bounded away, into blue skies, gold sands, with the sun on my back. The beach was already dotted with other early birds, some fishing (for that worm maybe), some strolling and some swimming. I ran for a little while to where the mouth of a river meets the sea. It seemed to be a little hub of activity for the locals, and a very pretty one at that.

After a short paddle I turned and retraced my steps to the finca. The sun was hotting up despite the young day and I had a splash and dip in the sea to cool down. That primal feeling was back and I’m wondering what could beat it. I might have to find a coastal tribe to join. Happy but tired from the taxing sand running, I was ready for my mango breakfast and another lie down in my fave place.

All this hanging in hammocks and hitting the beaches has me sleepy and siesta-ready at most hours. The Caribbean Colombians sometimes have a reputation for laziness and just not really getting much done. But really when there are beautiful beaches to behold and so many hammocks to be lain in, teamed with the tropical heat, I can kind of see how that could happen…

rosarunningaway

My experiences running, around the world.

Tag Archives: beach

Auckland3

Byron Bay

Gold Coast 2

Auckland2

Auckland

Huanchaco

Canoa2

Canoa

Palomino

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: