Tag Archives: Queenstown

Queenstown7

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Various things have been prying me away from my running time recently; working throughout daylight hours 5 days a week; body building at the gym; and the all-important social life. My beloved blog is looking a bit lack-lustre at the minute. I need to pull my bloody finger out! Cue me getting injured.

Winter in Queenstown has brought yet another active pursuit to my table: snowboarding! It’s something I had never tried before Sunday, but round here if you ain’t boarding, you must be boring. I’m not always one to follow the hoards, but in this case I’m happy to. So far on my travels I’ve trekked, cycled, kayaked and surfed among others. Adding snowboarding to the list is the natural progression now I’m in the snowy mountains of the South. 

With between us less knowledge than a novice, a friend and I headed up the mountain with the kit I could scrape together through friends and local rental shops. We took to the baby slopes and I, well, took to my arse. It was great fun but a little frustrating to say the least. And given my propensity to injure myself, a little scary. After many bumps, twists and falls we called it a day as a blizzard whipped up and reduced the visibility to less than a teenager’s hot-box. 

  

The following day I woke feeling alright, albeit a bit sore all over. With another day of fitness ahead, I hit the gym early to make some muscle. Maybe not the best idea. Mid-dead lift I realised my lower back wasn’t feeling great. And after a few heavy squats it was feeling even worse. By afternoon my ambitious running plans were reduced to a feeble waddle around the house popping painkillers. I’m pretty sure it’s just a muscular injury and I hope to return to running away by the weekend. When I have 2 more days of snowboarding arranged. Lesson learned?!


Lake Hayes

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Running with someone else can be that extra motivation you sometimes need; to push yourself faster to keep up, to save face and not give up on the big hill, or simply to go for that run you might have otherwise talked yourself out of. So far on my travels, I shared runs with my mum and dad. Until this week, where I have been a super social runner!

One thing I love about New Zealand and Queenstown is the number of outdoorsy and active people you meet. Which has lead auto a new phenomenon of Rosarunningaway: the running date! Respect to anyone who opts for this brave date choice. Are you ready for you and your date to see each other all sweaty, breathless and red? Assuming you haven’t already… Luckily my date and I were pretty well matched pace and fitness-wise. A shared penchant for running is clearly a bonus too. But before I get all Carrie Bradshaw on you, I will leave out the finer details of this conquest. And move on to yesterday’s running mate-date!

Yesterday saw blue skies and rays of sunshine in Queenstown. Lake Hayes, the baby neighbour of mighty Lake Wakatipu, is a running destination I’d been meaning to tick off my list for a while. So my friend, colleague and fellow iron pumper Leroy and I headed over there for an afternoon run. Sat between Frankton and Arrowtown, it’s just a short drive out of town. This new running spot didn’t disappoint; great views and lovely loop track around the lake made for the perfect run. And a good old gossip meant the hour-long run didn’t grow old. 

   

Ok so I was flagging slightly by the end; some injuries sustained whilst trampolining the previous day had left me at less than peak fitness. I must admit I was pleased to reach the car park and see Arnie waiting for us. The run was followed by a less than successful gym sesh thanks to my tramp-ailments. But looking back, I’ve had some nice runs this week, sharing them with someone else makes them that little bit more special. So, anyone fancy going for a run?!

Arrowtown 

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My (now legal) car Arnie is now giving me the freedom I have sometimes felt lacking since arriving in Queenstown. Yes, there are lovely places to run here, but being able to run and write about a new place (when a few months ago I would be in a new place every few days), is refreshing. So this morning with my new found freedom, me and Arnie took the short trip to neighbouring Arrowtown, 19km from Queenstown. 

Arrowtown is a quaint and historic tiny town; the kind of place you’d take your Nan to visit. Rather than parking up in the town centre to ponder the pretty shops and old wooden buildings, we stopped by the river, where a number of trails lead into the surrounding hills. It was the perfect place to happen upon for my run and thanks to the good signage I was able to choose the 8km Sawmill Gully loop trail; perfect for the leisurely afternoon run I had in mind. 

Now the thing about living in a mountainous area in the winter time, is that even when the sun is shining, chances are it won’t reach you. Shaded by the high hills, most places only get treated to a couple of hours of sunshine per day. Leaving the car park along the trail, the sudden chill was undeniable. However, working up a sweat can be the best way to fend off the winter chills; pounding the path I made for the hills, where the sun might still reach the soil. Remnants of last week’s snowfall were everywhere, making the trail slippy, slushy or muddy at most points. Thanks to this it was a steady journey up into the hills and my need for trail shoes rather than road runners was very apparent. 

Up higher I was treated to some sun, lots more mud, and of course fantastic views. I couldn’t help but think of my Dad, a seasoned fell runner, and how he would have enjoyed the run (but definitely left me struggling to keep up!). The trail wound through the gullies, where I guess there was once a sawmill, and crisis-crossed over streams. Miraculously I skipped over the stepping stones every time, avoiding a foot or fall in the river. The final stretch of the trail was a well established, stable and mud-free path where I enjoyed a pacey last few k’s. 

  

Back at the car park I took a closer look at the antiquated little buildings dotted around.  It turned out to be a Chinese settlement, from some of the first Asian immigrants to New Zealand in the gold rush of the late 1800’s. I could only imagine their journey over seas and settlement here in chilly Otago. Looking at their makeshift shacks (reconstructed in the 1980’s), I felt a great amount of respect for the struggles they must have endured. I’ll think twice before I complain about my own cold cabin in wintery Wakatipu. 

  

Queenstown6

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Remember that feeling when you look out of the window, first thing in the morning, to a white winter wonderland, and it’s like you’re part of your own incredible, magical fairy tale? I remembered that feeling this morning. But it felt like a very distant and weak memory, and I wondered how I had ever been so naïve. 

Today was the final day for Arnie (my car)’s warrant of fitness recheck. I’d never driven in the snow before this morning. And I didn’t get very far. In fact I struggled so much turning my car around that I just parked it up right where it had started, only facing the other way. Then I slipped and landed on my bum. I then proceeded to hate my life, cry, and wish I was back home in the UK; where summer is now peeking in to my friend’s and family’s lives. When I spoke to a close friend back home, who had just gone in to labour, I again started thinking of everything I’m missing out on with my loved ones. That was the final straw.

BUT, I am not one to wallow in self-pity. And my fellow runners out there will know that there is no better cure for the blues than bounding out into the world in your trainers. Crying in to the wind and rain is optional (yes I have done it). So away I ran. And with each step, I appreciated the magic of this Queenstown winter wonderland a bit more. By the time I made it to Sunshine Bay, I could feel my toes and life wasn’t so bad after all. 

  

 

I’m always amazed at how much this landscape changes. Looking back to town at the white roofs and tall pines, it was all a bit Scandinavian. On the opposite side of the lake, a passer by would have been none the wiser about the tall mountains hidden by the low snow clouds. And beyond the hills above Sunshine Bay, the sun was desperately trying to sizzle it’s way through the wintry clouds, and patches of blue tentatively glimmered. 

  

I picked up the pace for my return route and made it home without repeating the morning slip. My day was picking up. Arnie made it on to the ploughed roads and we went for a canny drive to warm him up. He passed the wof, I went to the gym; pumped iron, had a spa, drove home, and here I am. A successful weekend and I’m ready for work tomorrow (even if it does mean a day of snow shovelling). People, life is what you make it. 

  

Queenstown5

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Today I ran further than I have done so far in all my travels. I reckon it was about 16km (10 miles) and I’m pretty chuffed I’ve still got it in me. My day started with yoga and a swim but by mid afternoon I was itching to get out running; a feeling which should never be ignored! With the bare essentials: no camera, watch or music; just myself, shorts, vest and trainers, I started away down the steep hill from my cabin. 

A bright Sunday afternoon meant a busy town and I weaved through the tourists and Michael Jackson impersonators along the lakeside. My lap of Queenstown Gardens was just as squiggly. After the park I was free from the town buzz and set off along the Frankton track. I passed cyclists, runners, walkers and some very cute dogs. I hadn’t planned how far I would go but would turn back when I’d had enough. Enough was not had and I pounded the gravel all the way to Frankton. I bounded out onto the first jetty I came to and paused to watch the grey clouds roll in over the mountains across the lake. 
My lust for life (running) was still pulsing through me and I kept the pace up all the way back to town. Skipping Queenstown Gardens on my return I again weaved the lakeside as the sun was dying and rain started to spit down. Not even my Beyoncé hill would stand in my way. I trotted up to impressed comments from passers by whom I passed by. This picture is of the fabled hill, but from another day when I wasn’t camera-free. Only at the top did I double over, panting, and stumble the last few metres to my door. I’ve just felt a bit sick since then. Apart from that, amazing. 

  

Frankton2

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It’s all change in my life right now (new hometown, new job, new season…) and the most recent evolution is my purchasing of a car. And it’s not just ‘a’ car, it’s my first ever car! It also came with a free kayak (!) among many other bits and bobs including a jar of jam and a trance CD. So it doesn’t have a warrant of fitness or registration but that’s beside the point, don’t try and tell me I didn’t get a good deal on this bad boy! Today was my first day off this week and this morning was spent pursuing that all important warrant of fitness to get my ride legal. It wasn’t as simple as dropping it off at a garage to get it ship shape, like I’d hoped, but it seems it will be an affordable, if a little timely, fix up. Here’s a pic of the beast (minus kayak).

 

After a while of driving between various garages (who knew there were all different kinds?!), I drove to the gym for a personal training session, ensuring no eye contact was made with passing police. I was little early so strapped up my sneaks and headed out on to the surrounding playing fields to get a cheeky 5k in. There’s not much to report as it was a pretty plain route compared to some of my recent runs. The Remarkables looked down on me under a grey sky, and a plane took off on the airport runway behind the fields. 

  

Nevertheless, my little jog had me warmed up and ready for some iron pumping; I got a good session in at the gym, working on my legs and chest. My body building is going well anyway, I feel like I’m getting back to the tone (or even more than) I had at home when I trained at a boxing gym. Jodie Marsh eat your heart out! 


Queenstown4

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So my posting has been a bit lacking recently, probably because I am now a fully fledged, employed, real human being. I’m settling in to my life in Queenstown and my new job, but no longer feel such a free-spirited nomad, inspired to run and write by each new destination. However it’s a nice change to feel grounded and have some sort of home and routine. 

The routine in question revolves around my employment on the world famous Queenstown luge. What, you don’t know what a luge is?! Ok so I was a bit hazy before I went and saw it myself…maybe New Zealand famous might be more accurate… But it’s a cool job all round: riding the luge; seeing people having fun every day; being in hundreds of go pro videos wearing an oversized raincoat; and working with fun people. It was these fun people who lead to my most recent run being, well, a bit of a struggle. 

Despite following the golden gospel of “beer then wine, you’ll feel fine (wine then beer, you’ll feel queer)”, I didn’t exactly feel fine on my last day off. Maybe I’ll always feel a little bit queer after a night with the lugies. But I would not be defeated by those jäger bombs. I donned my trainers and packed my gym bag. I was going for the double whammy; run to the gym and then pump iron!

It’s a nice flat route along the lakeside to my gym, which is around 7km. Theoretically easy peasy, but not that day. The great thing about running in beautiful places is that stopping to take photos is a great excuse to have a breather and is completely acceptable. I lived by this and punctuated my journey with photo shoots and stopping to gaze. My steady pace gave me time to notice the details I might usually miss; the many mushrooms popping up now it’s autumn; the tiny mouse jumping through the grass by the track. As it always does, the fresh air flushed my body of toxins and self pity and I hit the gym ready to PUUUSH. Despite taking an hour to run the 7k, it was a fruitful foray. I must go and investigate those fungi varieties more closely on my next day off… 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

Fernhill; Queenstown3

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I’m trying to really make the most of my time in pre-employment here in Queenstown (also known as unemployment). And since I have my first day working tomorrow I had to make the most of my last day of leisure today. I began the day down the gym with a personal training session partaking in my new physical pursuit: weight lifting! An upcoming personal goal requires me to hulk-up (or is it bulk-up?), and it seems fate is on my side for this one. Whilst hitching a lift into town last week, my friendly lift-giver explained that he was studying to be a personal trainer… Me: “I actually need a personal trainer, particularly to build strength” Him “I need clients to train for my qualification. And I can’t charge you. And I specialise in strength training.” If that ain’t serendipity then call me Mystic Meg.

So after a morning pumping iron, an afternoon of scouring charity shops for work trousers, followed by my fave hill home, I could easily have curled up on the sofa with a cuppa and gazed out at the weather and the clouds and the mountains and the lake and the sky. Then I asked myself, what would Beyoncé do? And I laced up my trainers, ran into that weather and towards those mountains, the lake below me and those clouds gently dripping from that sky above me. 

I wasn’t feeling a hill session after my morning exertion, so went exploring for a path leading straight along the valley side. I found just what I’d had in mind and took this path towards Fernhill, a suburb of Queenstown. The path lead me through some wooded areas, up and down, crossing over the many mountain bike tracks that are woven through the pines up and around Queenstown. Tiring, I made it to Fernhill, a residential area built up of lots of houses and not much else. However, as with everywhere round here the views are the main attraction and I made for the highest hill. 

 

My tired and aching body was treated to some of the best views of Queenstown I have seen so far. It’s a shame the weather wasn’t brighter, the hills also look better with a backdrop of blue. After a few moments rest, breathing in the scene, I made my way back the way I came. With more declines it was easier than on the way, and I passed this strange vehicle/camper van. It must belong to a super-cool socialite.

  

Frankton

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After just a few days in central Queenstown, me and my surfboard were on the move again, in search of cheaper pillows on which to rest my head. My search took me to Frankton, a 10 minute hitch from town and to a unique living situation. I was lucky enough to get a couch surfing spot with a friendly Manc who just happened to be under house arrest. Far from dodgy, it was a a enjoyable few days and a lovely lakeside spot to call my home from home. Surrounded by Brits for one of the first times on my travels (I was joined by a Yorkshire couch surfer), we had more than a few mugs of wine between us that night. I woke to beautiful clear blue skies and just a bit of a headache. Lacing up my trainers I trotted off to enjoy a different perspective of Lake Wakatipu to the ones I had enjoyed in Queenstown.

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My run took me along a treat of a trail which curved up alongside the Shotover river. The glacial water of the river glints a magical turquoisey-blue and is fresh and safe to drink. I enjoyed gorgeous views along the river, over wildflower meadows and up towards The Remarkables; a mountain range so called since it is the only one in the world which lies precisely South to North.

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Despite the majestic mountainous surroundings, motivation was failing me after 15 minutes or so. I turned back and enjoyed the same views just as much the second time round. After some half-arsed push ups by the lake I collapsed and enjoyed a spiritual laze in the grass. Gazing up to the beautiful blue sky through a golden tree it dawned on me that autumn is well under way here in New Zealand. My winter avoidance, after 14 months will be coming to an end soon. I’ll have to start saving for some leggings!

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Queenstown

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Yesterday me, my backpack and my surfboard landed in the mountains of the South Island, my new home; Queenstown. Riding into town I couldn’t help but feel I was far away from New Zealand, in my old home, the UK. The purple-ish mountains, tall pines and old stone buildings would not look out of place in the Scottish highlands or the Lake District. But no, I’m a little further afield than that; pretty much on the opposite side of the Earth. Arriving here with the last of my travel funds, on the hunt for a job and a home, I can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

I’m staying in a hostel so on waking to my alarm early this morning, I was back on the old awkward tip-toe-phone-torch situation to locate my running necessities without disturbing my bunk-mates. I finally smoked out my sports bra and donned my shorts and vest. Stepping out the door there was another similarity to the motherland, and stark difference to my recent whereabouts. The 37 degrees I endured on the Gold Coast seemed a world away here in the chilly mountains of NZ. With a deep breath, and my nipples pointing the way, I cantered towards town hoping to get the blood pumping and warm myself up.

I was out and about early, but so, it seemed was much of the town. A boat sped up across the lake, lifting a parasailor into the sky, and little people floated down on parachutes from the surrounding summits. The golden sun was creeping up over the majestic mountains and I was slowly heating up. Before long I’d passed through the tiny town and was in Queenstown Gardens; a pretty lakeside park with voluptuous views around the valley. I passed these pretty stone stacks which I’m sure someone had a thoroughly spiritual session erecting.

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I’m not sure if it was the procrastination before my job search duties for the day ensued, which motivated me to make three laps of the park. But it was apathy for another repetition which lead me back to the hostel. Passing by the lake beach a stunted rainbow was reaching from the dark waters. I was happy to see I’d been out for an hour on my return, and I’d been going at a fair pace too. Maybe these cooler climes are better suited to my Geordie bod after all.

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