In Paradise

Funny, recalling the day's ear worms. It's just another day for you, you and me in paradise. I suspect this one started with me checking up on the state of my blistered feet. She can't walk but she's trying. They still hurt if I'm honest, and for this I'm grateful for three days with bicycle.

Why can't every Christmas Day be like this one, eh? I've ridden the bike up and over a volcano, swum in a lake amidst glorious forest, ridden back over the volcano in a world of free wheeling glory back down to town. Ate my Christmas lunch under the giant Redwoods. Actually, hadn't really thought of it as Christmas lunch until I came to put the bike helmet back on when I realised I had quite nonchalantly replaced a turkey dinner with cheese sandwiches. Tradition is offiicially dead.

Riding the bike back to town, I got a yell from another cyclist, Alright mate, how's it going. It's like being in the bloody Peak District. I know people. Although this was an Aussie guy I spent some time chatting with out on the trails yesterday. I was kind of complaining about the lack of hills. By the time I'd sat in the shade reapplying the factor 50 he had come back to me with a suggestion. It's about 150m climbing, that, he said. I giggled. After the Pyrenees that does seem a little tame to be honest, but I took up his suggestion and off I went, to do “Gunna Gotta” followed by “A Tral”, “The Tickler” and “B Rude ot 2”. Kiwi trail names are enticing to say the least. My day had already seen me do Tahi, The Dipper, Creek Track, Grinder, Challenge, Soakhole and Geneisis.

Tomorrow's route is potentially going to include Frontal Lobotomy, Hot X Buns, maybe even Dragons Tail, who knows. Aiming to get to the 759m highest point, all depending on weather and legs. Legs are heavy today.

And the ten things of joy today are:

1. The Christmas muffin. Oh my word, imagine everything you like in Christmas cake and Christmas pudding and none of the things you don't like, and you have my Christmassy treat. Spot on.
2. Swimming in the lake. Frank at reception on hearing where I was intending to go said to take the cozzie, so it was in as a last minute addition. The water was not cold, just a delightful luke warm after a hot climb to the lake on the mountain bike. And I hung the rucksack from a tree while I swam.
3. Trees. Overcome with the grandeur and foreignness of the trees. Huge palm type things, water cascading off them even though it stopped raining some time ago. Redoods, tall, incredibly steep and very broad. Kind of wish I knew more about them, how long it takes to achieve that size etc.
4. Christmas presents. Carried all the way from the UK – I have indeed received four bicycle paperclips / bookmarks, three room scenters (might press one of those into use here, my hand washing habits are taking their toll), and an angel aerial tip (not sure about that one).
5. Chai Latte. Perfect Christmas drink. Kind of Chinese tea thing, syrup with cinnamon / nutmeg overtones with hot milk. Should really have been a bedtime drink but hey, I was thirsty early!
6. People. Chatted over the last 24 hours with the ever so tiny Chinese girl from the room across. Kind of timid mouse like creature who doesn't seem to leave the premises and practices some kind of musical instrument. We bonded over a kitchen power cut which clearly came to me as old burd and native english speaker to talk to the owners about. But she came with me. She's starting Uni at Cardiff in September doing something along the lines of Business Studies.
7. The welsh girls. Young and kind of confident but with that youthful edge where you combine knowing everything with understanding slightly less than everything. They are half working, half holidaying here. They don't sound welsh.
8. Kiwi men in the lake. Never seen such posing. Standing on the waterside raft thing making sure they are there long enough for people to see them before diving. Incy wincy swimming trunks. Ostentatious T-shirt removal and flexing of muscles. Just funny, bless them, if you've got it why the hell not.
9. My own 44 year old body. It's odd, some bits of it just look the same to me as they have done since the New Zealand dream popped into my head 25 years ago. I can't honestly see any change in my thighs, still the same moles, still the same old knees. Wonder why they haven't changed. My arms have, there's functional muscle. I sometimes look down at them and think, oh, that's interesting. And it's all OK wrapped up in a swimming costume. If anyone's looking their eyes will simply pass on by without a grimace of horror or a nudge of their mates. I am amazingly inconspicuous.
10. My microfibre mountain bike tracks map. I thought it was a t towel but no. Cost slightly more than your average trail map but I reckon it means I can ditch my travel towel when I leave here. I hate my travel towel. It did not live up to expectations. I reckon I must a few years ago have bought cheap and am regretting long term. It doesn't pack up as small as you might like, I should really have opted for a hand towel sized one anyway, and actually it doesn't bloody dry you. It just kind of pushes water around. Useless piece of shit. I think the map and me have a future together, and because of space limitations I've not taken on board a lot of souvenirs. It would be nice to have some mementos other than photos and memories of my travels, and the unexpected map come towel already makes me smile and hopefully will do so for some years to come.