I had originally planned to do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, part of the Te Araroa trail, on Monday.
But, you know how luck happens sometimes – the Mangatepopo campsite was full on Monday so Tuesday it had to be.
Which is how I found myself walking up the side of a rather tall volcano in pissing rain, while the crazy wind squalled around me. Continue reading
According to the Te Araroa website, the 3,000km trail down the length of New Zealand can take 180 days at a “leisurely pace”.
This is the politically correct way of saying the trail will take 180 days for those people passed their prime, who haven’t done enough training/aren’t fit, and who have to take lots of rest days because their body is slow adjusting to trail life.
In other words – me!
Now before you all get on your high horse; yes I know this isn’t a race, that I have to listen to my body and that this is my journey. But hear me out. Continue reading
Sometimes our plans are highjacked, sometimes things happen that are outside our control. This is totally normal. How we respond to it is what counts.
My video thoughts on my enforced rest days in Paihia two and a half weeks into #WalkNZ. Continue reading
Ahead of #WalkNZ, when the reality was starting to sink in that I was about to start solo walking 3,000km down the length of New Zealand, I went on Twitter and asked the adventures and experts who had already been there, done that for their advice for when the going got tough and how to deal with the nagging thought that you should give up. This is what they said… (and it can relate to any goal or endeavour your embarking on, not just adventures). Continue reading
3,000km. Five to six months. Mountains, forests, knee-high mud, wet river crossings, kayaking, road walking. The legendary Te Araroa trail down the length of New Zealand. How much training is enough?
I put my hands up – I think I’m not doing enough. At least when I was walking up Box Hill last weekend with a 9.5kg backpack on my back it certainly felt like I hadn’t been doing enough.
Annoying, when back in March I’d put together a comprehensive four-month training programme for this adventure. But life gets in the way. I haven’t stuck to it. Actually, I haven’t even come close. Continue reading
“I guess I should be grateful that I’m actually on my way to see a volcano,” I thought as the ‘Yellow Bus’ hurtled through the Azorean countryside, passing fields of maize and languid dairy cows.
It had almost been a no-volcano day after a caffeine-deficient, panic-fuelled morning. I’d arrived in the Azores – the volcanic archipelago off the coast of Portugal – the night before rearing to tick off four more volcanoes in my #40by40 challenge.
But it didn’t start the way it was intended to. Continue reading
I’ve always been a little trepidatious when it came to kayaking.
Ever since high school when kayaking in the school swimming pool was a component of PE. Physical education, for a geeky teenager who could barely throw a ball to save herself, wasn’t great at the best of times, but the kayaking class was something else.
There I was sat in a kayak, locked in by the spray deck that covered me from the waist down, learning how to capsize and roll the kayak back up.
It didn’t go very well. Continue reading
I don’t need a bully. That nasty someone to belittle me, call me names, tell me I’m no good, that I’m stupid and ugly. Nope, I don’t need a bully – and yet I’m bullied every day.
That’s because I’m my own bully; I’m my own worst enemy.
Since my school days, I’ve barraged myself with negativity, put downs and self-doubt – you’re so uncool, you’re boring, you’re stupid, you’re not attractive, I would tell myself. I’d question what I thought and what I did. I’d tell myself other people were better than me, that I should be more like them, but that I could never be because I wasn’t good enough. Continue reading
After a wet day with thoroughly uninviting views, we awoke in the little French town of Mandailles to what promised to be better weather. There were pockets of blue in the sky (hurrah!) and while the tops of the higher mountains were still shrouded in cloud it looked like it was only lingering like a bad smell.
Today was to be our last day of our three-day hike along a section of the GR400 route in France’s Auvergne region. So far, we had been buffeted by gale force winds in an almighty thunderstorm, my hiking companion’s tent had nearly blown off the side of the mountain, and we had climbed two volcanoes as part of my #40by40 quest to climb 40 volcanos by the age of 40.
Today’s aim was to take on two more volcanoes – including the immediate region’s highest peak Plomb du Cantal. Continue reading
Yes, I know, I’ve been a bit quiet on the volcano front. That’s mainly because it’s been, shall we say – slow. Continue reading