Run Into Adelaide

Daily miles: 24.38 | Total miles: 7,671.34

My alarm rang at 5:30am, but the bed was just too comfortable. My body clung to the softness of the linen, still craving the rest it had been given. I bargained with myself for another half hour before finally getting up at 6am. A quick coffee — Graeme kindly offered me a real one, but I stuck with my instant brew — and I packed, got dressed, and said my goodbyes. What a difference a solid night of sleep makes.

I set out into a cool, overcast morning. The colors in the sky were soft and gentle, a quiet welcome to the day. It didn’t take long for the climbing to begin — the Adelaide Hills. With the morning traffic rushing by, the narrow shoulder, and branches crowding the path, it became a test of focus and patience. The buggy rattled over debris, and when the road steepened, I found myself pushing hard, breathing heavily, the cold wind cutting at my face.

By midway, in Uraidla, I allowed myself a little treat — a cappuccino. I sat on an old cushioned chair, soaking in the warmth of the cup and the stillness around me. My thoughts drifted: how far I’ve traveled, how incredible it is to be able to do this, to live inside this journey. It was one of those moments where awe and gratitude sit quietly inside you. But miles still waited, so I pushed on.

The road climbed another four miles before finally surrendering to a steep descent. After hours of relentless uphill, the downhill felt like a gift. My legs loosened, and the view stretched wide — a sweeping panorama of Adelaide opening below me. I ran lightly, carefully, staying alert to traffic and the sharp gradient, but I enjoyed every step of that descent.

The city came into focus, and soon I was running its streets. Four more miles through the bustle before I arrived at the YHA in central Adelaide, where Marjon welcomed me warmly — even greeting me in Swiss German, thanks to her time working in Switzerland. It felt like a little touch of home on the other side of the world.

But the day wasn’t finished. My buggy needed attention, so I went on a mission for new tires. The first bike shop claimed they hadn’t received my email, and the second didn’t have what I needed. Frustration crept in, but the third shop, a couple of miles away, was a blessing. Abraham, the young mechanic there, not only had the right tires but also replaced the brake cables and gave the buggy a much-needed overhaul. Friendly, talkative, and genuinely caring, he sent me back on the road with wheels ready for the long stretches ahead.

Back at the hostel, I ticked off the practicalities: laundry, shower, food, some time on socials. The day had been shorter in distance but still full — physically, mentally, emotionally. Tonight, I’m tired again, but it’s the good kind of tired.

Crossing into Adelaide feels like arriving at another milestone — the beating heart of South Australia. It’s a reminder that every hill, every push of the buggy, every small act of kindness along the way brings me closer, step by step, to the bigger picture of this journey. Cities like Adelaide mark the chapters, but it’s the countless miles in between that write the story.

Be well, Andrea