Dad gives me a lift to the airport, ‘watch out for those Spanish men’ he says, me ‘it’s the stag groups i’ll be watching for”. So, naturally I find myself sat on the plane with stag dudes in front, next, behind me.  Marvellous • Start reading a cracking book “Before I Go To Sleep”, it’s addictive right from the go and I’m halfway through by the time we land. If you enjoyed Donoghue’s “Room” you’ll like this • Two metro rides and I’m finally outside in the fresh air • Madrid is beautiful. The sky is clear baby blue, the sun is warm, the air is chilled, the streets are cobbled, the buildings pastel and it’s extremely peaceful • A bit of wandering and I find my hostel • Thirteen euros for the night man, that’s just silly • Find my sunglasses and head back out to the quiet calle • There’s a little flea market on Plaza Dos de Mayo and some sort of mini (slightly pathetic) protest or announcement • I’m not quite ready to tackle a full restaurant conversation and the sin carne, sin queso implications so I buy tortilla, tomatoes & shiny, gorgeous strawberries (four euros!!) from a grocery and get a beer at one of the outdoor cafes • I know I’m feeling the Norway burn but is three euros for a beer (with snacks too) just bonkers..? • Madrid, no Spain, no Europe, is wonderful • There are no particular city sights that I want to see, mostly cos I’ve been (typically) lazy and done no research. Instead I just wander • I think my hostel is in a slightly alternative neighbourhood; the streets are narrow with quirky little shops & cool looking bars • As I keep walking I hit wider streets, bigger crowds and high street names • Madrid is very relaxed, and relaxing: people stroll, traffic crawls, cevezerias hum & there are actual birds singing. It’s cool in the shade, warm in the sun, which is nice for walking except I had forgotten about all the dog poo, it’s plentiful! • The Puerta del Sol is busy, the Plaza de Sta Ana is charming and the Prado museum is impressive and beautiful • But, now I’m tired, nothing makes me as happy as Starbuck, sorry :) • A casual meander back to the hostel, a chunk of time hanging on the wifis and then I went back to Plaza Dos de Mayo in search of dinner • The pizzeria isn’t flash but it’s perfect. A beer and a bit of fun confirming si, sin quasi, solo champignons y tomates and then I had the best pizza n red wine dinner just about ever • More book (nearly done), another red and that’s it, welcome back to Madrid, what a pleasure • xxx •

Gallery

Not a pun about the bike riding kit the other girls are wearing but, in fact, proper green birds flying around in Richmond Park. I’ve mentioned them before but this time they sat still long enough. Sorry the picture’s not better, I still panicked a bit. Are they cockatoos d’you reckon?

Saw these very orderly young looking deer when I was bike riding. They’re so pretty with their light coloured fur. Sadly as I’d come into the Park I saw a sign explaining there would be ‘deer culling’ over the coming months. Makes me sad but presume somewhere someone knows what they’re doing…

Just over six months ago me and my stuff went in different directions around the world and today we met on the same turf. Much sticky tape, bubble wrap and list ticking later and it was all packed in its new home and I was off on holiday again. But first a few little reunions. Yeee ha.

here it comes

no they don’t have CDs in, and no, that definitely isn’t all of them

there she is

back together again. uber smiles

getting in amongst it

thank you

For sharing your clothes: mum, dad, Catherine, Marie, Lisa. Thanks and sorry for the stretching :)

For letting me use your bikes, thank you, thank you, thank you: dad, Peter, Mark, Mandy, Nad.

For all your help with everything: mum, dad, Niki, Marie, Catherine xxx

Working some web magic

Oslo – the cold – dancing – Tromso – dog sledding – Northern Lights – Gallery

what are you doing here?

Seven days in Norway and this was the question we were most consistently asked – what are you doing here? The Norwegians we met were universally agreed that visiting this cold, expensive, somewhat industrial country was a bonkers decision. Except they didn’t say ‘bonkers’, they said severe things that should have upset us a bit. We’d come because we’d had too much of the Frozen Planet Kool-Aid, because we’d been told by NASA that 2012 is the year when the Northern Lights will be visible with the greatest intensity in half a century, and because, rumour had it, a lot of military types went to Norway to train in the winter. These are each superb reasons on their own, so we ignored everyone and got on with an awesome week…

Oslo

Having said all of that, yeah, Oslo is really cold, really really expensive, and definitely industrial. It’s organised, crescent-like, around the harbour, and you do feel that the four inches of snow may be doing the city a few aesthetic favours. It’s also dinky – we powered around the Opera House, Cathedral, four museums, two of the top-four coffee houses, two of the not-top-four coffee houses and the famous Vigeland Park in one day. And that’s a day when that gets dark at 3pm.
There was some nice architecture, my favourite traditional building was the National Gallery because it was smart & fronted with lots of smooth red stone. This Gallery has a good collection too, a nice range from Picasso, Cezanne and Degas as well as lots of national favourites. Munch is the artistic hero of Norway, I thought his best known pieces, “Scream” and “Madonna”, were quite different in style to his other works, or perhaps it’s just what the Gallery had. The Opera House is modern, they say it looks like an iceberg and y’know I’d agree with that, it’s impressive. I wasn’t so taken with the cathedral, it’s rather solid, but the murals inside were good – they covered a lot of the ceiling and included a lot of colour.
The Nobel Peace Centre is nicely done, there’s a comprehensive exhibition on the 2011 winners – three ladies who have pursued women’s rights and safety for women in the Middle East & Africa – with lots of photos & information about their work. The material is thought provoking and inspirational, it’s the sort of place you’d visit as a little kid and do a school project on. Past the exhibition is the main room that’s low-lit with a digital presentation of each winner of the prize, it’s interesting and effective.
The Vigeland Park was really beautiful. You come in through these grand gates and there’s a long straight avenue leading through the trees, across the lake and to the monolith. The Park is rolling; we were seeing it at dusk with inches of thick ice and snow, so it was just beautiful. At the lake the bridge is clustered with the bronze statues for which the Park is well known. Up at the monolith the views were good – back towards the lights of Oslo and out across the park. There were more statues here too, they’re quite modern in their shape & style – quite chunky, angular lines but smooth textures – and the different postures are interesting & impressive.

quality of life

It really is cold – average minus 12 while we were there – so when you eat you just want to carb up. Plus, it really is expensive so value for money is the way to go. Neither of which is conducive to finding amazing food, but Norway has a reputation for average food so I don’t think we missed out. Highlights included the tapas selection at Rust in Oslo, the breakfast buffet at the Viking Hotel in Tromso, the buffets we assembled in our rooms, our pizza buffet at Egan, Tromso, and then Dermot’s pizza buffet at the same place the following day. Picking up a theme there..?
One thing Norway does have a reputation for is good coffee. There was certainly a lot of coffee around, high-five that, and I did have a killer soy latte at Kaffe Brenneriet in Oslo, it was one of those mega bowl-cups, totally wicked. It’s also true that the alcohol here is ridiculously expensive – every Norwegian we met complained at the prices – so it’s common to drink at home, they call it ‘foreplay’, and go out late. Well, if it’s the done thing…
One of the great things about Norway is that it’s akin to Switzerland with regards to punctuality & precision. I mean, you’re hard pushed to wise crack with a bus driver but you know he’s gonna arrive and depart when the timetable says. And you really appreciate service like that when it’s minus 10 plus wind chill…

north pole

No, we didn’t travel the extra two thousand miles to the top of the world, but we did find ourselves in the unlikely scenario of having a pole dancing lesson in central Oslo. See what I did there…
It all started (settle in) on the bus from the airport. I woke from a power nap, covered in drool as usual, and got chatting to the guy next to me, initially because I had network coverage envy. Dave – Californian, TV writer, very cool – gave us tourist tips, we chatted a bit about travel, sport etc and then he said the magic words “aerial yoga”. Keep talking Dave, keep talking. Dave and his wife, Lisa – Norwegian/ English, charming, used to pole dance at Stringfellows – run a studio, Sometimes, in Oslo and he explained they’re introducing the “fly gym” soon. I dropped the yoga toy to pick up the pole dancing toy and inside of, ooo, fifteen seconds we’d exchanged details and arranged a lesson for the following day.
The Sometimes studio is outside the main city centre in a big, traditional style house, the fit out is smart and the whole place is aromatherapy scented gorgeousness. Lise (my Lisa, not Dave’s) wasn’t game for dancing (we’d hit it hard the night before) so she sat and watched which was wrong/ hilarious because she provided a running commentary on my ‘progress’.
The class was sixty minutes of strutty, hippy, spinny, pointy fun. I learned some basic moves, spins & climbs and did this little routine that included a full hair-flinging head roll that made Lisa nearly cry. Tell you what – pole dancing hurts, I had sore ankles & knees and my upper body was destroyed for days. The teacher was amazing, she made it look so easy, and when she stripped to her crop top revealing bionic abs I just about gave up. There were about ten girls in the class, really friendly & warm, chatting to us, wondering why were there (of course). I was studying some of their moves and there’s definitely a journey between technically doing the move and then making it look, well, hot.
Job done we went down to the harbour front and had beers & nachos in TGI Fridays. Ideal.

Tromso

Located a few hundred kilometres inside the arctic circle, Tromso is a sweet town that Norwegians like to call a city. It’s one of the first islands off the mainland and consequently provides excellent viewing of snow covered hills, the ice crusted Norwegian Sea and lots of rows of wooden chalet-houses. We instantly liked Tromso, it just feels Nordic, plus we were already smiling from the awesome views from the plane.
The town is small and easy to navigate: there’s the harbour front, two main streets, a church square and a main square, there is no high rise and most of the buildings are traditional design – lots of wood – so it’s quite cute. Tromso has a reputation as the party town of Norway; there are a few universities here and people come for weekend getaways on account of the scenery and sport. We had a great time, and we did find some fun, lively places, but on the whole I reckon if any Tromsonians go partying in, say, Berlin or Barcelona, they’ll find themselves, erm, overwhelmed.
One of the cool things in town is the Mack Brewery, it’s the northernmost brewery in the world, I liked that. The brewery pub is Olhallen and it’s an old-school beer hall: high ceilings, chunky wooden furniture, a stuffed polar bear (hmm), and tankards. Oddly though, it closes at 6pm. That’s just plain odd isn’t it. Not that we tried any other beers but the pilsner was spot on.

dog sledding

This was the only thing that we’d pre-booked, and witnessing other people’s dramas with organising tours I’m glad we did. So we shook off our hangovers for that day (we were piling through that duty free), wrapped up and headed to the Rica Ishaushotel where Helge from Arctic Adventures picked us up. She was lovely, chatty and super keen about their sports, especially sea kayaking which I would LOVE to do around those fjords in the summer. Our destination was right out in the countryside, Whale Island I think, it felt remote, the buildings were all wooden chalet-ish, I really liked it. We met Per-Thore – Helge’s husband, they run the tours etc together – and he broke the wonderful news that we would actually be driving the dogs. Lise n I had cruised in, blissfully thinking we were about to be tucked up in reindeer skins, whisked around the countryside and given a ringside view of the Northern Lights. Er, no, you get a sled for the two of you, one is driver, the other passenger. Now really, thank all the gods we’d got rid of those hangovers…

arctic kit

The sleds are low with ropes and harnesses coming off the front to attach to the dogs (more about them coming shortly), the sled is mounted on skis that extent behind. The driver, and it’s no surprise the driver was me and Lise the passenger, stands on those skis, and uses the break – hinged between the skis – with whichever foot makes sense, all the while hanging on to a handle – like a pram – that steers the dogs. Righty-o. According to Per-Thore ‘if you can walk drunk in high heels then you can drive a dog sled’ hmmm.
The dogs were in a yard behind the house, there were about 75 of them, each tied to their own kennel. They were a husky blend or merge or whatever the right dog word is. Apparently the huskies that we think of – big hair, blue eyes, quite tall for dogs – don’t have awesome personalities for sledding. These ones here just like to run, they have heaps of energy and they like being part of a team. Well they were gonna need a heap of energy to yank us pair around, especially once we got our extra layer snow-suits and boots on. Oh, and a head torch for me because of course, did I mention, it was pitch black dark.

winter games

Lise got tucked in, Helge hung on the brake with me for the first 50 yards and then we swooshed off. The first few minutes were insane. We were going downhill, there were a couple of sharp turns and it was through forest so branches, bushes and debris to avoid. It was insane. And then we had to jump over a stream.
I was hanging on like crazy, not entirely sure what was going on around me, definitely not in control, barely breathing but somehow able to shout ‘what the f**k’. On the open fields we slowed as the downhill flattened and then I got a feel for what I should be doing. It’s all about using your weight on the skis or the brake. Which is way easier said than done when you’re freakn terrified. I was hanging off the handle and wondering why there was no effect but I was just hanging and not shifting my weight. About this point Lise and I looked for Per-Thore, erm, well that spot ahead might be him, or it might just be a bright star. We were out on these open hills, smooth snow all around, inky sky with hundreds of stars, it was beautiful. And freezing. The wind was smashing into my face and my feet were buried in snow.

kick push

We came to a climb, we’d caught up with Per-Thore now, which meant scooting to help the dogs and then hopping on once they picked up speed. It was fun getting used to how the different gradients affected the whole experience, and at the same time trying to see how the terrain was changing and what effect that would have too. There was such a difference, and I know it’s obvious, between the soft, untrodden snow, and the hard, iced, established tracks. We cruised around some more and then had a little break. Per-Thore: ‘Lucy, I see you’ve had a lot of practice walking drunk in high heels, you’re very good’. Save it dude, til we’re back in one piece anything can happen. Ha, yeah, never a truer word said.
There were no Northern Lights to be seen so we got back on and cruised some more, then climbed, cruised and stopped again. While we weren’t seeing the main event the scene was still stunning, views over the island, bright moon, icy breath in the air. Since we’d climbed it was now time to hit the downhill, something Per-Thore and the dogs were dead excited about and which made me wish I had an app to speed dial a chopper.

snow angel

I was hard on the break, and that’s tricky cos you’re inclined to put your weight in one direction which misguides the dogs. It’s also hard – like actually exhausting – cos you’re permanently fighting resistance, the gradient but also the snow & ice that mounts up and pushes the break back up against your foot. I tried to smash more of my weight on to the break but I could see the ropes were slacking, and you need tension, then I panicked a bit, we clipped a mogul and I lost my footing. So now we were freestylin’ down this hill, the dogs going mental now the brake was off, the brake being off because I was being dragged face down behind the sled. I had to let go, there was nothing else for it, so I tumbled into the snow and was trying to stand up before I’d even lost the momentum of the fall, running through the snow shouting after Lisa. Per-Thore did the arctic equivalent of the cowboy grabbing a runaway horse and got hold of our sled and Lisa. It was full on.
All was fine. I was drained with adrenalin but Per-Thore must have every confidence in the landscape and his snow-suits cos he wasn’t worried about any damage. We regrouped and got on our way. Sorry, no we didn’t, we regrouped, Per-Thore said ‘there are two jumps coming up now’, and then we got on our way. Marvellous. Yeah, Lise n I got some air and I stuck the landings somehow. I’ll admit for the last part I was a bit are we nearly there yet cos I was unnerved by the fall and when we saw some familiar landmarks it was a bit of a relief. Typically though, after a sit down, coffee’n'cake and team chat I wanted to go out again. Arctic adrenalin sports, tick.

Northern Lights

The aurora borealis is a natural light phenomenon that occurs when charged particles bump into each other, what it means is a very unique, pretty light display that comes & goes as it pleases. Like every visitor to Norway we wanted to see the fabled Northern Lights. Unlike other visitors however we were only spending three days in the north and we point blank refused to do one of the chase-the-lights coach tours. On our first night in Tromso we walked around with our heads tipped back like that old Macleans toothbrush advert. Didn’t see a thing, natch.
The second night we went dog sledding and although we thought our chances were good we didn’t see anything which was a shame as the location was perfect, but apparently we were a bit too early – they’d been appearing at 10 or later. Back from dog sledding we were cold & shattered so we threw together a buffet in the hotel lobby, sneaked in our own g&ts (class) and watched MTV with some of the guys. That carried on for five or so hours before we – Lise, Dermot and I, heavily encouraged by Jergen – decided we should cab it to the lake at the top of the hill outside Tromso and check if the lights were out up there.

take i

Armed with extra jumpers and roadies we started to walk around Lake Prestvannet. It was completely beautiful, frozen solid and surrounded by frost & snow covered trees that sparkled in the moonlight. We took our time: the path was all banked ice and super slippery, it was proper dark being 2am but with some ambient & moon light, plus we kept stopping to either swig, peer at they sky, warm our hands or laugh because we were all being very funny :)
About two thirds of the way round we agreed that what we thought was a vague, wispy cloud streaming right overhead was in fact the lights, although not the drama or colours that we’d been expecting. Further around and looking back across the lake we saw green glows between the hills in the distance. That was it, we were done. Hit the road, got a cab back down and carried on partying in the lobby with military trainees til the very early hours, celebrating our success.

take ii

On our last night with all expectations met we just went out, firstly to Bastard, an underground bar where heaps of kids were losing their stuff to an acoustic band (??), then Tromso G, an older crowd wine bar type place. Inbetween we tried heading to Grunder where we’d been two nights previously and had a giggle, but the queue was massive and that’s just not cool at 1.30am in the freezing cold. Which is why we were hanging around on a street corner, deciding which way to go when I looked up and saw the proper, real life, no messin’ Northern Lights. Cue girly noisiness, stumbling into the road, faffing for cameras, ‘fk fk fk’, hand holding etc. The Lights were stunning: like a ribbon floating through the sky, emerald green and shifting shape really fast; this green light was just flowing through the night sky. We felt so lucky to have seen it and it really was all worth it.

role call

Despite the Norwegian despondency about their own country and its charms we had a great time. We did the things that we’d intended and a fair amount aside from that too. I’d cheerfully come back in the summer to visit the fjords, I think it would be beautiful, and there’d be some good sport there too. Just need to get that fourth credit card application approved….
As usual Lise and I ingratiated ourselves with locals and visitors alike. Notable mentions go to Dave for our first perspective on Norway, Jergen for his Eeyore-attitude, Stephan for his sharp tongue, Per-Thore for his tips on beer, and Dermot for the high quality chat and photography. Good times…

Gallery

first day out in Oslo


iceberg Opera House

dancers on the glass doors, I thought that was cool

a well stocked coffee shop. and lise outside a winery. double smiley faces

Vigelund Park


gods bless H&M Oslo

cold but knowing the train will arrive at the exact right time

landscapes from the train



Tromso party town!


pre-dog sledding



post-dog sledding


around Tromso





Mack Brewery

around Tromso

Twelve minutes of heaven. Love the rood boys that dance on the stairs. Love LMFAO. Never could get enough of ‘like a prayer’. And I want that outfit, I’d wear it every day given half a chance…

girl to girl; bus

Having been reminded that I wanted to run round Wimbledon Common (thank you) and given how nice the weather was today I kicked on my funky shoes and pinged off. The kit is still really good; this toe-strike thing is feeling more & more comfortable.

suburbs

Clapham Junction to Wimbledon is a funny zig-zaggy effort at the best of times (i.e. on a bike) and I hadn’t put a heap of effort into planning my route. In short I was lost within ten minutes of leaving the house. Which isn’t a major drama except that being lost in Merton is a bit rubbish. Still I found my way and as a consequence of the detour went past Wimbledon Cemetery which made me think of Michelle (cos she likes cemeteries) so I had a nice stretch of happy reminiscing thoughts. Past the cemetery I was in to Wimbledon and a nice little climb to reach Wimbledon Village. Zip zip and I was in the Common. Oh no, first I had to go past the world’s longest queue of beefy shiny four wheel drives. I’m all for four wheel driving – it’s a lot of fun – but, and correct me if I’m wrong, there’s not a school/ football club/ choir practice in the whole of England that actually requires four wheel drive capability to get Jems & Hugo to the gate. Meh.

ruralness

I’m not familiar with Wimbledon Common at all so for the next hour I don’t know where I went exactly… I started down a track to a farmhouse, through some foresty part and then along a lovely bit of path beside a little stream. It was here that U2′s ‘One’ came on and you know when you can really remember the last time you heard a song, I had that. I’d last heard this track when I ran in the forest in Annecy. Then I’d belted it out while throwing myself down a rocky path; now I was belting it out on a gentle climb trying to dodge really sludgy puddles.
The path seemed to be leading out of the Common and I came across some rugby pitches so I made a little u-turn back into the trees. These were my favourite type of tracks – really wide with heaps of skinny, bare trees on both sides, it reminded me of the forest at the top of Ella Rock in Sri Lanka.
Then I came across a duck pond, a bit too spade-angular to be pretty but lots of swans to look at. I took a more overgrown path off the pond which meant more mud, holly and fun. And it was here that I think I saw a squirrel which was the only bit of non-bird wildlife I saw which is a rubbish effort. Actually, towards the end I caught the attention of a hyperactive jack russell but he was better dressed than me so definitely doesn’t count as wildlife.
Back on the track I 180-ed to take this big, gentle, slippery downhill that reminded me a lot of The Big Climb that Mark and I did (and I did get pictures of that one). Over the last three months there is one song that seems to be magnetised to my ears, the Human League’s ‘Don’t You Want Me’, so here I am, different surroundings but singing – with a big smile – I was working as a waitress. Yeah yeah.
You may have noticed – I was off-roading in my specifically on-road footwear. Well I figured there wasn’t much I could do once I arrived and I’ll just have to get Dad to clean ‘em for me… So while there was more good mud and then some nice turf I also liked it when I got to the windmill and hit a long bit of proper path.
Once I saw the golf course I knew I was close to where I’d started and kind of figured out where I was, and got chased by the jack russell. I took the West and South side roads to go around the last little pond (and nose at the mighty fine houses) then it was back through the Village, down the hill and finish at Wimbledon station. The downhill was minging. I had been considering running all the way home but that downhill wore away at my sore feet and hip flexers, I was done.

So, liked that. Pretty park and I’d like to better know where I went and where to go next time because I just feel there is more that I didn’t see. And I don’t know why I didn’t take my camera with me, bit silly really. Next time peeps, next time, sorry.

performance

Happy with my pace too (this was one of the new shoe things I’ve been figuring out). I ran my on-road half marathon pace which means I was faster than usual if you take into account the off-road parts, because I run a slower off-road pace. Little bonus.

Now, feel free to text me and remind me to stretch so I can go to work tomorrow…

x runningluce

photos from Flickr

Thank you Edward Foley

Thank you Robert Wright

Michelle just got back from 12 days touring beautiful New Zealand with her Mum and the blog, “travelswiththemothership” is a brilliant diary of their time together. Brought back a lot of memories of roadtripping with my own Mum last year.

travelswiththemothership has some mouth-watering food refs, highly amusing anecdotes (nice one on the hire car..) and some beautiful photos. Have a read here.