It was a chilly 12 degrees Celsius (53F) and the sun had not yet reached us on the south-western face of the mountain. We each put in our ear buds, and set off with little ceremony or fanfare.
When you find yourself in sunshine this bright, it makes the past and the present feel like a dream. Was I ever in Chicago? Was it a regular -12C only a day or two ago? Now my legs are being whipped by a refreshing southerly. I dive into the cool blue waters of the Tasman Sea to emerge refresh, reenergised.
Three hours south of Sydney is a little slice of heaven called Lake Conjola. Small communities dot the lake, some with names that evoke the holiday spirit, like Manyana and Fisherman’s Paradise. My family’s holiday house is in one of these small lakeside communities with large gum trees rising all around.