I took one look at the hill Barb was pointing to from outside our meet-up place at Upshot Coffee on Bridle Path Rd, and said “yeah – nah”. For the non-Kiwi readers here, yeah-nah is our way of saying that yeah, I understand/hear what you’re saying – but nah, I’m not going there, or I disagree. The hill that Barb (the boss) was indicating our Sunday morning walking group was going to climb was a definite yeah – nah from me. I think I might also have said “bugger off” – which is self-explanatory.

A bit of history about Bridle Path Rd, just as an fyi – it was named after the bridle path that went over the hill from the Port of Lyttleton to Christchurch, which the first settlers had to use to get here. From Lyttleton, where their ships had docked, they would load their belongings onto horse-drawn carts and lead them by the bridle up and over the hill to the new settlement. It was the only way to get to get there at the time, and was a steep and hard traverse for both horses and people. The settlers did this after arriving out of condition after three months at sea from the UK, and wearing entirely unsuitable clothing. As a youngster, before I discovered how the Bridle Path was spelt I thought it was a bridal path, and imagined brides in their dresses walking over it, which puzzled me for quite some time 😊 These days, the Bridle Path is just a walking track.

I joined my walking group a few months ago as a way to have some enjoyable exercise, and meet with women of a similar age whom I would otherwise likely never meet. The trouble is, they’ve all got athletic backgrounds and still do a variety of walking, running, and swimming because they love it. I’m just not in their league, and I don’t have the passion to be so. Hence, it’s not the first time I’ve rocked on up to a walk, and then balked at what they’re going to tackle.

So far, I’m loathe to abandon the group as not being a great fit for me, as then I just have to find another one. Besides, the women in this group are very chill about what I do or don’t do. And Barb has a huge amount a knowledge of local walking tracks, and organises a different one to go to each Sunday – when she’s not off helping with a marathon, or something. She’s been taking me to some places in my own backyard that I haven’t been to before, and I like that.

Because she’s got so much knowledge of the area from a lifetime of getting around it, she often knows of an easier alternative route I can take nearby when I do the yeah-nah thing about a near-vertical hill, which, being New Zealand, we have a few of. Maybe I’ll get up one of them again one day, maybe not. I don’t find failure too much of a thing to get upset at these days. Anyway, true to form, Barb suggested another nearby track I could walk, whose terrain was the polar opposite of the hill I’d just rejected.

That track goes alongside the Heathcote River and salt marshes for a way, and ends at Tunnel Rd, the road which connects Christchurch to the Port of Lyttleton via a road tunnel. As an aside, that road tunnel was completed in early 1964, and during the big 2011earthquake here the only damage it sustained was losing a few tiles off the walls, which were what was used back then. A testament to the quality of engineering and building, indeed.

The track is not a loop track, so after reaching Tunnel Rd you head back the way you came. I’m sure the panoramic views from up on top of the hill I didn’t climb would have been spectacular, but I also found the river and marshes at low tide to be quite alluring in their own unique way.

Besides the few other humans I encountered en route, I shared the track with horses and bunnies, too. I know bunnies are considered a pest here in NZ, but damn they’re cute. If the picture of the hole below is a rabbit hole, though, I’m sure whoever inadvertently put their foot down it wouldn’t agree with me.

I decided to head back to the coffee shop and meet up with the others for the usual end-of-walk cuppa, figuring that they probably wouldn’t be too far behind me. My walk wasn’t a long one today, and not much different to what the other women were doing, albeit theirs took in a steep hill climb. Still, with them being fitter and faster than me, I didn’t think I’d have long to wait for them. The coffee shop – the aforementioned UpShot Coffee – looked like quite dinky, so I was disappointed to find that despite the advertised hours of being open from 9am to midday on Sundays the doors were closed, with no sign of life inside.

I headed home, and now await to see what Barb has in store for us next week.

PS: I might need a new phone with a better camera. I have an iPhone mini 12, which suits me size-wise, as it’s so easy to carry in a pocket and to handle, but I might have to relent and reluctantly accept that in this instance bigger might be better.