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Pillar to Pou

Date: 13 June
Distance: 36km
Time: 5:40

Friday started as usual; breakfast, then Gerry went to work. He was taking a half day, so that we could leave a bit earlier for the trip to Taupo. I made food and snacks and got everything packed in the morning, and by 2pm we were on our way.

We arrived at our accommodation at about 17:30, checked in and got the little fan heater going. It was quite nippy outside, but overall I think we were lucky with the weather. We could easily stroll the 600m to registration with nary a breeze as we watched darkness fall over Lake Taupo. Red at night, shepherds delight.

It is the second time this event took place and looking at the results, the first time wasn’t nearly as big. Less than 200 runners from my understanding. This time 1200 runners and walkers made it a ‘sold out’ event of which 180 were solo runners (which we entered as to allow for some running if we chose to), 18 solo walkers and the rest were teams. The plan was to walk the whole way, to see how we managed continuous long-distance walking at a reasonable clip. 

The event only started at 10:00 allowing for a relaxing beginning to a freezing (one or two degrees Celsius depending on which source you look at) misty morning. Our accommodation was about 100 metres from the river walkway (event course). Shortly after 7am Gerry moved our car to a parking spot right next to the walkway. This meant we could leave our food and extra gear within super easy reach. They have a drop bag area for participants without a support crew, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my phone or other valuables there. And I did not want to carry my phone on all laps – just the first and last laps to take some photos.

The plan was to do 36km, 5 laps. Each lap is 7.3km which, as anyone who knows me will know, is too long. If laps are involved I prefer shorter and preferably not longer than 3km maximum. Five laps in six hours meant 1:12 for each lap. I can’t walk that fast, so we had to jog a kilometre or so on each lap.

The nice thing about out-and-back laps (as apposed to loop laps) is that you see all the other participants all the time; coming from the front, or passing you from behind, only to be seen again coming from the front. It makes it very social, and we identified a young runner with a bucket hat whom we ended up looking out for. I liked his tenacity and eventually we rooted for him to win! Funny how you can get ‘involved’ in something or someone you don’t know from a bar of soap.

At the start and with the excitement of everyone dashing off, we decided to jog the first bit, at least until we reached the car after about 500 metres. We could then drop our multiple extra layers for the start which was very handy. After that we walked some before jogging a bit again after the turnaround point at the far end. This is also where the other waterpoint is (the first one being at the start and finish). Coincidentally we never ventured into the start-finish aid station the whole day. We had our own aid station in the back of the car with a variety of goodies: gherkins, prosciutto, date bread, date balls, jelly snakes, liquorice toffees, even hot home made soup in a thermos.

Once we were on our way on the first lap, fresh and rested, it almost seemed very possible to do six laps, 44km. I know I am definitely not in a place to do that kind of distance, but it is easy to get caught up in the excitement. We recalculated our run and walk times for each lap, figuring out how we can achieve a lap an hour with the least amount of running, but after a while I decided we have to be sensible. Haha. So we stayed with the five-laps plan. 

And just as well, as after the third lap I could feel my legs and especially my feet getting tired. We tried to finish each lap in exactly 1:08, meaning a wee jog of about one kilometre somewhere along each lap.  With a very small incline towards the halfway mark of the lap, we ended up walking the first half so as not to have to run the ‘uphill’. 

The Pou is located in Te Ātea, a gathering space devoid of vehicles The previous time we were in Taupo this area was still a road. The pou is a beautiful carving by master carver Delani Brown made from a 2,000-year-old Totara tree. The thirteen metal pillars surrounding the main pou represent the 13 rivers that flow into Lake Taupo. Outside the thirteen pou are four timber that illustrate the four compass points, the four seasons, the four elements, amongst others.

Free beers (Asahi), bananas, and apples were at the finish. We strolled back to the car, drove across the road and up the driveway back to our accommodation, fired up the little fan heater again, had a shower and some bubbly before sauntering another couple of kilometres to a restaurant for some delicious food.

I had aches and pains in places I don’t have when running that distance. Which is good, I guess. Just goes to show how different the two disciplines are. Lots of work still to do before March next year.

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A trip to Nelson

Date: 8 June
Distance: 20km

I tried my luck with Changing Threads again this year, and was lucky to be a finalist again. Twice a finalist, and twice rejected over the past five years (the competition didn’t run in 2025). That’s the way it goes – you win some, you lose some. While I wasn’t sure that it was worth making a trip to the awards function and opening of the exhibition, Gerry was keen to make it a long weekend away, so booked our flights and accommodation.

Driving down to Wellington early the Friday morning, about a two hour trip, it was raining – at times, cats and dogs. On the way we received an email from Air NZ offering a credit due to flights hanging in the balance; delays, cancellations. Gerry called the accommodation to see if they might offer a refund or credit, but we had no luck from them. So we figured we may as well get ourselves to Wellington and see what happens with the flights. And as it turned out, everything was fine. Our flight went ahead on time as planned. Luckily we didn’t take the voluntary credit option, as it is a nuisance at best. If you don’t have anything to use the credit on at a later stage, you lose out eventually. 

While down in Nelson for the awards function and browsing the galleries, meeting other textile artists which I only knew through Instagram, we decided to take one day and jog-walk some tracks and trails. 

On the Sunday morning we made our way down towards the sea where we could link up with the Matai River and walkway. On the way we bought a small bottle of water to take with, while we also took a banana on the run. We have done this route previously (https://jogaroundtheblog.co.nz/2021/08/10/nelson-runs/). Creatures of habit? I could see how much the, at the time newly planted trees and shrubs along the track have grown over the past five years. 

After we passed Black Hole, a swimming and BBQ spot, I started searching for a pee stop. In a distance was a car park and the hope was that there might be a loo. Reaching the car park (without a loo) we asked a gentleman who was getting his dog back in the car after his walk where we could find public toilets. He directed us back the way we came but just across a huge park. We had the banana there as we could get rid of the peel also. 

We decided to walk up Botanical Hill again which is the surveying centre point of New Zealand. We approached it from a different side than the previous time, which was a nice change of scenery. Coming back down we called in at the Suter Gallery for a coffee, before heading home for lunch.

We are currently on a bit of a walking spree, trying to gain walking fitness for longer trail events, and so opted to jog about 5km and walk all the rest. We covered about 14km. Content, we went back to our accommodation for some sustenance.

After some olives, cured meats and pickles, and fruit, we headed out again on another track not too far from the Admirals Motor Inn where we stayed. This time is was the hills behind Nelson, and we went for the Grampians Tracks were we did about 6km of up and down.

At the start of the track we encountered a cute cat. And then I noticed all the white feathers on the ground. Not sure if it was the cat’s work, but there was nothing other than the white feathers. No body parts. Did they come from a cushion? Not that many birds in NZ have a lily white plume, apart from the heron. And of course the rare white tui or fantail. And of course there are sea birds in the area, but it just seemed somewhat unusual.

We walker up the Collingwood Track to a grassy patch near the top where some sheep were grazing. It looked very peaceful with beautiful views across the town. A pair was having a picnic there and we also saw some other walkers on the network of tracks. Although it was chilly, it was nice outside and a good walk. If hill training was your thing, this track would be a good daily outing. 

Coming down the hill we followed the Tawa Track and before we knew it we were back at the bottom, but on a different road from where we started. We started on Van Diemen Street and finished on Endeavour Street.  

Back at our accommodation we showered and went out for dinner. With 20+km in our legs it was a good finish to our weekend. 

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I need a goal

Date: 23 May
Distance: 26km
Time: 4:06

Ever since the new highway (Te Ahu a Turanga: Manawatū Tararua Highway) openend in June 2025 linking Ashhurst with Woodville on the other side of the Tararua Range, we’ve been wanting to cross over by foot on the shared path next to the highway. We have done a number of outings, walking up the hill for 5km, turn around, and jog back down. I have been curious about what the rest of the path looks like.

But let me backtrack a little. I may have mentioned this before, but since COVID we have ‘cooled off’ somewhat regarding our running and participation in events. We did, however, manage to always keep on trucking in one form or another, mostly just a 4km trot down the road a few times a week. This meant we could ramp up the mileage somewhat to complete the odd marathon or half marathon over the last six years. It didn’t feel like we had any real goals or going anywhere with our running. I did toy with the idea of doing a 100 miler a couple of times, but it didn’t stick. Winter and Spring would be difficult to train due to lots of unpleasant weather, and come Summer it would be too late. Unless I set myself a lofty goal and really mean it, I have no chance of even getting somewhat fitter. So, I’m back to toying with that 100 miles idea. About a month ago we even drew up a broad sort of training plan with interim goals to get us there.

Let’s see how long this one lasts.

As part of the plan, we decided to fit in a long walk to see how our bodies would handle it. Of course walking is a different ‘sport’ to running, which is why lots of runners really slow down in the second half of very long events (and I count myself amongst them) simply because they haven’t trained enough to walk. Especially for extended periods. Who has the time! I know for a fact that if I was to attempt a 100km or 100 mile event again, there will be heaps of walking. So we made provisions for walking in our ‘programme’.

Starting on the Ashhurst side, we parked at the Gorge Quarter carpark late Saturday morning for our long walk. The weather could not have been more perfect. We collected our things, something warm for the crossing at the top, some sustenance and water, and then we were off. Perhaps because we started reasonably late (10:30), there weren’t heaps of people on the path as usual. Lots of cars in the carpark though, so they must have been somewhere (the gorge, the 3km loop on the other side, who knows).

The first few hundred metres are flattish. This is followed by a steep incline that just gets steeper as the kilometres pass. After about 3km you reach the tops which is an undulating stretch of about 3km across the mountain range. This is usually where a very cold wind blows as you are quite exposed in the ‘funnel’ that was created when parts of the mountain were carved out for the road. Though it was on the cool side, this was the first time I didn’t feel the temperature dropping significantly while there. 

After 5.5km going into the traffic you cross underneath the highway to walk on the other side of the road going with the traffic for 5km, before crossing back for the final stretch. At the bottom of the mountain is a traffic circle, but we opted to walk all the way to the toilets next to the i-Site which added another 1.7km one way, to our trip. Since there are no toilets on the path, this is almost compulsory, and also a place to top up our water bottle. Unfortunately for us (great for users of the toilets), the water in the toilets was warm. We searched the area and luckily spotted a tap outside the i-Site (which was closed over lunchtime) to fill up our water bottle. 

It took just under two hours to reach the toilets, and I secretly hoped we could do the same going back and finish in under four hours. My feet and legs were already quite sore, so this was going to be unlikely, but one can hope. On top of that, we wasted time searching for water so the prospect became even less likely. Nonetheless, I was still going to try and go as fast as I can, hopeful. Going uphill from the Woodville side is more gradual, but relentless with no breathers for 4km. I was very sore by then, had blisters on my feet, and it started to became a reality that I might not be able to move the next few days. But we kept going at a reasonable clip, crossed over the mountain, and before long we were on the steep downhill stretch looking at the carpark in a distance. I was very happy that we made it to the coffee shop just before it closed, for coffee and an ice cream to share (fig and honey flavour). Unfortunately we didn’t make the four hour target, but went over by six minutes.

Regarding the blisters … I’ve been struggling to find road shoes from Altra that doesn’t feel like they changed the fit slightly. Yes, the toebox is still wide, but it feels flatter and therefore less roomy than before. Is it my imagination? This applies to a reasonably new pair of Altra Torin. Since I wasn’t 100% comfortable with them, I also bought the Altra FWD Via online which has more cushioning which I thought would be handy for long on-road walk-jogs. Unfortunately yet again, these felt flatter in the toe-box area that made the fit more snug despite it being wide (which I may add feels in any case slightly less wide and roomy than any of the Altras I had before). Maybe my foot shape changed from not running much! The FWD Via also has seams on the heel near the arch of the foot on the inside. The day before this walk, I decided to take them for a spin on a 6km outing. Just as well I did, as after a km I could feel a hotspot coming, and by 4km I had to take them off as the hotspots turned into full blown blisters on both feet. I walked more than a kilometre on my socks before putting them back on for the final bit back to the car. I was very annoyed as these seemed like the perfect solution for what I needed.

Later that evening I drained the blisters and hoped for the best for our long walk the next day. Trying on old pairs of shoes in the morning, I opted to use a pair of Torin of which the bulk of the outer sole was missing already. It must be six years old. But it felt soft and I didn’t think it would aggravate my blisters. However, after a while I could feet the drained blisters filling up again. It wasn’t from chafing so much as it was from fluid retention and swollen feet. We made it back to the car just in time before it became super sore. I walked to the loo half cripple, but looked worse for wear walking to the coffee shop. After we sat for a bit and had our coffee, walking again was not fun. 

After a nice warm shower I drained the blisters again which, it turned out, was actually blisters upon blisters. 

Even though we have this beautiful path specifically for walking, running, cycling, it is very noisy from the constant stream of vehicles and too close to the traffic for my liking. I keep thinking what if someone looks at their phone and drives off the road? And flips over the wires that forms the barrier between vehicles and pedestrians? I noticed a good few spots along the road where vehicles have crashed and went into the wires. Plus there are a lot of trucks using that road. And of course some people seem to go as fast as their cars are capable of just for laughs. 

But I guess it is pointless to think about the worst case scenario, and as my mum always reminded me – a miss is as good as a mile. 

The path itself is really quite pretty and a lot of effort went onto making it. All along the way trees and grasses were planted and mulched, with lots of little ponds along the way. There’s a viewpoint and rest area for cars on both sides, and a few other viewpoints for pedestrians along the way. On a good day you can see Mt Taranaki, Mt Ruapehu, and across the Manawatū and Wairarapa. The cafe at the bottom and the fact that lots of people make use of recreational area makes it quite sociable, so we keep going back, despite the fact that is sits right next to a very busy highway.

Next time we will have to see if we can break 4 hours walking on this route. 

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Jumbo-Holdsworth walk

23 March

As I rolled out of bed barely capable to pull myself upright, I thought about our walk in the Tararua on Monday and how tough and resilient one’s body actually is. As cliched as it might sound, it always amazes me at what one can achieve if you put your mind to it. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Okay I’ll stop with the cliches for now. 

For a long while we’ve been talking about a walk in the mountains. We haven’t done it in such a long time, and our annual week-long trip over Christmas or New Year also hasn’t happen in a few years. Mainly because of bad weather, but perhaps also just exhaustion by that time of the year. Which is exactly when one should go saunter in the mountains!

With my mum passing away last year, and our trip back to the motherland recently to sort out her things and our affairs there, we were again caught up in ‘life’ and not paying attention to what we really needed. We knew we needed a walk in the mountains, so last week we made the decision to just go do it. At first it was going to be an overnighter, but again, with other commitments and deadlines (oh, how I dread these words) we scaled down to a one-day hike. Of course then one could go anywhere, but we finally decided to do the Jumbo-Holdsworth circuit again. And just as well, as my original plan was to walk to Syme Hut and spent a night there. Unfortunately someone had died on Mt Taranaki at the weekend and a rahui was in place until Monday, meaning we would not have been able to walk there anyway, out of respect for the dead and the mountain.

The last time, we did the Jumbo-Holdsworth circuit as the trail running event, which was eight years ago. Since then, we’ve marshalled at the event a couple of times at Holdsworth peak, and once at Powell Hut, always using the Gentle Annie track to and fro. Including trips to Powell Hut with friends on other occasions, we know that part of the trail very well. 

On Saturday we went shopping for sustenance to do the whole loop on Sunday. But alas, another deadline (tax of all things) meant we were still busy late on Saturday night, and hadn’t packed yet. Fortunately Gerry had leave on Monday so this was going to be the day. Forgive me for feeling like we might ‘bail out’ again, as at that point we had given up on so many events that I would almost be surprised if we did go ahead with it. But luckily we did. Sunday morning first thing, we packed our backpacks, incase something gets in the way again. Being aware of how bad NZ weather can be in the mountains, especially on the peaks, I always pack a bit on the cautious side. Not for when you can still move, but for if something happens and you can’t move. First to go in is always the PLB and a space-blanket type bivvy. I’m also a firm believer in something hot, so our teeny tiny little camp stove with a small gasbottle is also priority. And then come the thermals and down jackets, coupled with wind and rainproof gear (does the latter even really exist?), and of course food. Sometimes I would also throw in the small tent, but according to all the weather predictions, it was going to be a lovely day; sunny, on the cool side (13 degrees at the hottest time), and almost no wind. Sounded too good to be true. Luckily the forecast was spot-on.

Monday morning at sparrow’s fart we were out of bed, Gerry prepared our yogurt, fruit, seed, and muesli breakfast, made a thermos with coffee for the road, and we were on our way. I had my reservations about walking 24km with the reasonably heavy pack over some of the highest peaks in the Tararua, but figured if things go pear-shaped, we can always just turn around and call it quits. But if we made Jumbo Hut in good time still being able to move, and the tops look good weather wise, we would dash over, and then worry about the way down at that point. We even packed headlamps incase. 

With lots of roadworks between us and Masterton, the trip took a wee bit longer than I thought. Also, we got away a bit later than planned. Nonetheless, just before 8am we had a few cups of coffee, breakfast, made a loo stop, signed the intentions book, and could finally start walking. 

Being fresh and just happy to be there, we walked at a reasonable clip. The track was easy and flattish, so we thought we could make up time. We knew that ‘Raingauge’ was an approximately 3km nightmare of an uphill to Jumbo Hut, so tried to do the first 7km to Atiwhakatu Hut in good time. I vaguely remember some of it from our trail run stint through there, but Donnolly’s Flat I wiped from my memory. It is a lovely camping area amongst the trees with fire places, the stream nearly, and longdrops, not far from the car. It would be perfect for people with young kids. 

We followed the Whakatūrākau Stream on our right, crossing numerous little side streams on foot bridges. To the tune of the rumbling water we walked in the forest hearing the song of happy birds and cicadas. A trapline was established along the path, and all the traps were sqeeky clean. The trapper servicing this trapline would have a walk in the park. 

After we reached Atiwhakatu Hut, the track splits off to the Raingauge Spur and Jumbo Hut. Although it is only 2.8km it has a stupidly steep elevation gain of about 850 metres. Each step is knee high and sometimes higher at my length. At some point I noticed to Gerry that I’m very close to the ground. Obviously because with the steepness it felt like the ground was right in front of me, and on occasion I had to drag myself up over tree roots and rocks on all fours. This was very hard on my legs and I knew that I would suffer later on. As we went higher up, the birdlife became less until I could hear no birds at all, and eventually only flies and blowflies.

We reached Jumbo Hut a bit after eleven, and stopped for elevensies – coffee with rusks (which I hastily baked on Friday and dried overnight), a handful of nuts and a liquorice toffee to chew on on our way. Something else I found surprising was the vast number of white butterflies (the kind that ruins one’s vege garden) at the tree line. 

Just before 12pm we were scaling another steep incline to Jumbo Peak. And if you have any thoughts of the ridge being ‘flat’, or even undulating, think again. It is constantly up and down. We did a tonne of steep climbs in the short (5km?) section on the tops, which took about two hours to do. My legs were jelly by then, but I was very happy to be at the Holdsworth Trig. I knew that even if the weather turned to custard, we would be okay. Powell hut was less than 2km away and the track to there is doable even in reasonably strong wind. There’s just one section next to a slip that is a bit dodgy in wind, but for the most part there is no issues.

For the first time all day we encountered some other trampers on the ridge. First two guys who were sitting on a stoney knob when we were passing just below them in a boggy area, followed by another pair of guys, and shortly afterwards a couple on our way up the final steep climb to the trig.

By then the light breeze at the top was a wee bit more than a light breeze, but still really nothing to write home about. It was still sunny and warm enough to walk with a T-shirt (two layered in my case). We made our way down to Powell hut at about 2pm, and found three ladies there, two of whom were sunbathing on the porch. We boiled our kettle for a cup-o-soup, when another solo guy arrived to stay at the hut. Together with the tomato soup we had biltong, corn cakes with Vegemite and Laughing Cow processed cheese. The latter probably being the most hideous of all snacks, but for some reason the thing we always have on hikes. Some nuts and more liquorice toffees and we were ready to start walking down the mountain. We filled half of my water bottle with an electrolyte, to have with our other in-between snacks (dates, marshmallows, Frooze balls). If there’s one thing I’ve learned the past twelve or so years, it is that any ‘endurance sport’ is in fact an eating contest. Keep feeding the beast and it will do anything you tell it to. Haha.

The first bit is a super steep downhill. In previous years, it was a bit of the scramble to get up or down. Maintenance on the track (maybe due to the running event sending hundreds of people around the loop?) has made if far easier to go down/up on stairs, and is also good for the environment. As much as I like a natural incline or decline, lots of foot traffic quickly tramples the ground. And if it happens to be a wet patch, the area being trampled just gets wider and wider. But calling it easy, is a bit generous. These steps (and there were plenty new ones) are huge, and on terribly sore jelly-legs it is tough going. At some point I thought my legs were seizing up; my locked knee would not unlock in time to take the next step! It was agony, but we made it to Mountain Shelter in good time, before following the last (always longer than expected) bit of the track on Gentle Annie, past the Rocky Lookout. The whole track was filled with course gravel, and more new stairs were built to make the trail more accessible. I listened to the crunch of the gravel under my shoes, and thought to myself that there aren’t a lot of trails where you can hear the crunch of your boots as your walk in NZ, or perhaps rather the North Island. Usually it is sloshing and suckling of shoes being swallowed by mud. The sound of my shoes made me think of my birth country where the semi-arid environment usually involved crunching boots on trails. And this made me think of my mother, wondering if she’s watching us.

Back at the car, we put on some dry clothes for the trip home. I was very sore, but very happy. Surprised and delighted at the fact that I managed to walk up and over the mountains with an elevation gain and loss of around 1500m over 24km without any incidents. So many things could have happened, but as my mother always reminded me, a miss is as good as a mile. 

Although it’s been 17 months since we last covered 20+ kilometres by foot (something that weighed heavily on my mind the night before our outing), I’m all keen to start doing this more often again. I miss the suffering – the very thing that makes me feel human and alive. And capable. Getting older is tough as it is, I want to try and postpone the ‘incapable’ part as long as possible.

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Mentors Country Estate parkrun

Date: 7 March 2026
Distance: 5km
Time: 37min

During the flight from OR Tambo to Hong Kong with my mother’s ashes in the overhead locker, I reflected on our three week trip to the motherland. It was tough.

My mother passed away on 3 October last year at the age of 87. For the past 16 years she lived in a house we owned. Being so far away it was the best we could do to try and help her. Fortunately I still have an older brother and sister who could be more hands-on with the day-to-day needs. Providing her with a place to stay may well be a subconscious way to ease the guilt of us moving so far away.

The past number of years she became increasingly frail. On and off she stayed with my brother 700km away, and the past more than a year, she was with him all the time. 

Even though our house stood empty for the best part of two years, nothing happened; no squatters, no burglaries, no vandalism. We all needed some time to process the death of our mother, so thought we can just carry on with business as usual until July when we planned to go over and start sorting out her things. Unfortunately this all changed on Christmas eve when all the outside copper pipes were stolen from the house. This was followed by another event where the copper wire leading to, and inside my mum’s pottery kiln was severely damaged and stolen. The other issue was that my brother was still paying the rates&taxes on the property (to keep the power on for the alarm to work), which was really just a waste of money. We had to do something urgently.

We quickly made travel arrangements and by mid-February we were on our way, this time flying via Hong Kong. The quickest route, and the one we’ve taken the past five or six times, is through Australia. But we’ve never had much joy with Qantas, and the last time was a nightmare to put it mildly. Every trip without fail, our luggage stayed behind in Australia (the connecting flight allows too short a turnover time), the food deteriorated with each trip, and arriving back in Wellington at 1am is just plain nasty. On top of it all, the shuttle bus to long-term parking in Wellington didn’t run during the night, and we had to walk the 2km in the middle of the night. Luckily that changed a few years ago.

This time after four flights we arrived tired, but without any serious issues, and immediately set to work. With the help of my brother we spent the first week chasing copper pipes into the bricks and mortar. Gerry did most tof the hammering, my brother the copper pipe soldering, and I finished off plastering and filling up gaps. After four days, we had water in the house again, and could start with the clean up.

In short, we had to go through and clear out all my mum’s things. Eighty-seven years worth of belongings which she meticulously saved and looked after. I was keen on some fabric and yarn to use in an upcoming exhibition about the circle of life and death, but couldn’t take much as we only had two suitcases with a limit of 23kg each. The one thing mum said I could have was two 1930s rocking chairs, but short of paying a fortune to get it to New Zealand, I had to let it go.

Most of her things ended up donated to charity, a handful of things were sold, and the rest went to recycling and the rubbish dump. Such a sad and terrible thing to have to do. I discovered mum’s wedding album, grandma’s birth and death certificates, granddad’s identity document, and the list goes on. Just sad.

With no good reason to keep the house any longer, we were also keen to try and sell the property. I fashioned a hand made ‘for sale’ sign which we stuck on the gate. In case. Agents came around, potential buyers started walking through while the place was in shambles. Stuff everywhere, tools, cement, paint, coupled with a house that wasn’t lived in for more than a year, it looked terrible. One of the people popping in to look around, brought his wife a couple of days later to have a look, and another few days on they brought their daughter. The place needed a lot of work, the garden was in shambles, but it was still a decent sized plot, with two separate dwellings; one the main house, and the other a studio. It has a lot of potential. But beggars can’t be choosers, and we had to let it go for far less than what we might have been able to sell it for if we had the time to get things in better order. But time was a luxury we didn’t have, nor the money and ended up just being relieved to have a buyer.

The end of an era. A heartbreaking experience.

Before we left from NZ I had grand plans to go for walks on the beach with my sister and brother, but the only thing we did was work. From sun up to late every day, work. Luckily my brother could get leave, and with my sister on pension, we spent the evenings together. During the days we worked together.

Our last Saturday morning in SA we decided to treat ourselves to a quick parkrun. I didn’t have running clothes so thought I’d just walk. Working with dusty and old documents meant that hay fever was a constant struggle for me and I ended up taking far more antihistamines than I would have liked, which didn’t help my cause. Getting some fresh air was much needed, and to celebrate the ‘offer to purchase’ that was signed the day before, we went for it.

During the night the wind picked up. It was blowing a gale and the noise from the trees and corrugated iron rattling meant I was awake a lot of the time. We got up, had red bush tea and a pear before driving to Mentors Country Estate about five minutes away. It was still windy, but not as strong as during the night. Also, it started to rain, and there was a nip in the air. Not ideal conditions for a first outing since before Christmas.

Mentors is a large, privately owned wedding and accommodation facility located on the side of town near Jeffreys Bay, with the windfarm next door.

We arrived shortly before the start, and standing in the cold wind and spits of rain, I was contemplating our ‘bad’ luck with the weather. Apart from running shoes I didn’t really have appropriate clothes to wear for a run, so donned the nearest thing that is not a pair of jeans. Since the weather wasn’t ideal and looked even worse on the horizon, we decided to start with a jog in the hope of warming up a bit, and getting it done quicker. My baggy hippie-type pants turned into a sail catching a lot of wind. In the right direction, it could have counted in my favour, but it felt like nothing other than a handicap.

The idea was to jog slowly until I couldn’t anymore and then just walk to the end. But leg-memory seems to be a thing. We ran at a seven-plus minute per kilometre pace which turned out to be attainable, and I could keep going until the end.

The course is a short lollipop with two laps of the round section, off-road in a nature reserve. Lots of volunteers were on the course encouraging runners and walkers. Having a double lap of the one section meant they had a short course (3km?) as well as the full parkrun 5km distance. We were 99 runners and walkers, and being a flattish course and a loop, meant we could almost see everyone out there. In the distance we also saw some Blesbok and ostriches.

At the finish, coffee and snacks could be bought from the gorgeous stone and thatch roof venue. Water with lemon and mint were provided and the sheltered area meant a lot of participants were just relaxing and catching up. We bought a coffee and sat on the porch with a beautiful view over the farm thinking about life, death, running, and survival. A nagging concern that our upcoming flights might be cancelled (due to war and ultimately greed) and that we might not be able to get home, were thoughts I was trying to avoid.

Afterwards we went back to the grindstone to finish off the remaining things that had to be done before flying back super early the next day.