I lay and watched as the grey backdrop to the mountainscape visible through the windscreen got lighter, and the peaks came into focus before finally blossoming into an orange, blue and grey tye-dye which was my signal to extricate myself from the Enema. As quietly as I could manage I packed my bag with everything a well prepared plucky Brit would need to try and run the 3 day Routeburn Track, and back, in a day...

As one of the top 10 walks in the world it was the perfect challenge for me whilst Bob spent the day riding, perfect his and her's activities. After being administered early morning tea and wrapped in a blanket Bob co-piloted me up the gravel track to the start of the track, going over our pick up, bad weather and no-show plans before, with a slightly despairing shake of her head, waving me off into the forest.

I can't do the scenery justice so I will try and upload some of the videos I took to better explain the breathtaking surroundings. The track ascended gently up the valley, leaving the trees behind at the Routeburn hut, which was more like a hotel! With my new running buddy Adam, we crossed into a huge hanging valley which was like GlenCoe on drugs, then over the Harris saddle and traversing along the side of a huge valley which fed all of the fjords to the west. Sweating profusely and passing countless impressed/shocked/horrified trampers we then turned East again and started descending to Lake Mackenzie. The forest we entered was straight out of the Lord of the Rings, the narrow track winding around ancient and gnarled moss covered trunks, impossibly climbing from amongst the boulders they imprisoned in their network of roots.

Arriving at Lake Mackenzie, Adam kicked on down the descent to the end of the route, but after 3 hours of hard running covering 20k, gaining 1200m and losing 50% of that again I opted to have a brief lunch on the lake shore and turn about. I had a quick snoop around the very impressive huts which were supposed to be your base after 2 days trekking before retracing my steps through the dark woods, and back up the valley.

Back at the saddle I felt surprisingly good and had an hour in hand so dropped my pack and summited Conical Hill giving me some of the most spectacular mountain scenery I can recall, before returning and descending, slightly pottery now, to the car park, spot on 4pm as planned.

At the end of the swing bridge was a beaming Boblet who took my pack and listened to my tall tales whilst I cooled down, before hearing about her day in the saddle. A raging success, the highlights were the far eastern punter who was a little confused by the differences between Chinese horses and her NZ equid resulting in her eventually being ousted from the advanced group when she worked out what 'dismount' meant... With this sorted, Bob and her strong willed steed 'Big' headed off for 3 hours of cantering across glacial flour, belly deep river crossings and extensive re-enactments of scenes from the Lord of the Rings. After meeting one of the horses who was actually in the film she returned to Glenorchy to soak up the eclectic atmosphere over a coke and free chips before heading to pick me up.

After Bob had, accidentally with her elbow, honked some poor unsuspecting Jucy camper off the road we checked in to our backpackers room at the NZ equivalent of the Wasdale Head Inn being run by Basil Fawlty. It was an unspeakable luxury having a room with a double (bunk) bed and we got cleaned up ready for supper in the eccentric dining room, though the presence of numerous biting insects and hot water bottles in our room was ominous.

After a combination of cured salmon (with a hint of aoli...), lemon crumbed mussels and venison pie we were stuffed and scuttled back to our room to watch the Fault in our Stars. In a welcome change from our normal routine it was bliss to sink into the soft mattress with tired legs, full stomachs and big grins, even if the head room wasn't much improved...