Tag Archives: surfing

Fingal Head

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I’m back in New Zealand now, after a fab hol from my travels in Australia. I’ve returned a little bit browner (mostly my feet), a little bit blonder, a fair bit poorer, however richer in friends and surf boards. Yes I have my own board! All thanks to a generous, hunky Aussie guy (God bless Tinder). Now nothing can stop me owning the waves! Apart from maybe the impending New Zealand winter and the fact that I’m moving to Queenstown, which is 3.5 hours from the coast. Minor issues.

So Australia was my last foray in freedom before climbing back on the old 9-5 (or whatever hours anyone will give me), and settling down for a bit in NZ. I had it all planned out. Before Fingal came along and threw a spanner in my thoughts. Welcomed to stay in an amazing house, with lovely people in an incredible location, I got more than a little bit hooked on this Lake House lifestyle. Smoothies, surfing, sunshine, running, yoga and a canoe on the lake; I knew it would be a bit of a wrench to leave.

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It was a gorgeous location for running, and I worked out a nice 45 minute route before long: Starting by the lake in front of the house, running up along the white sand beach, up over the point past the lighthouse and back down alongside the river. The weather was unreal (ok maybe a bit too hot at some times of day), and made for picture-postcard photos on my second last run here. My last run along the beach was overcast and cloudy; lovely running conditions but not so stunning for photos, so I left the camera behind. Typically this was the day I saw a pod of dolphins dancing in the surf. It was such a magical encounter and I was glad to just breath in the awesome scene and watch them play. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

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After a few days in my latest paradise, it was time to get ready to leave. I had had many urges to stay and live the dream, somehow. But my plans in New Zealand still stood, including some pursuit-of-dreams plans which could mean big changes to my little life. And I’m sure there are more paradises waiting to be discovered on my upcoming journeys…I’ll let you know.

Byron Bay

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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.

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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.

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Piha4

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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