Because the flight was extraordinarily delayed, there wasn’t much of a chance to run today with a long day at work too.

Tomorrow, hopefully, back to track.

A long journey with stopover and flight delay today. This meant I missed the run and will likely miss tomorrow too. But I am thrilled to be travelling back.

No place like home.

I ran a similar route to yesterday except that I was solo this time. I was also more fresh and faster and quickly marked my territory. The two kilometre point at the corner of the vineyard cut neatly into the mountain, the three at a signpost that said ‘baggry‘ and nearly at the five kilometre mark, the narrow road widened to an enclave of homes.

A U-turn at a parking lot and I made my way back to our location, the trusty Garmin picking out the kilometres, as I admired the endless valley views, the parallel rows of grape vines, the bougainvillea, and felt the cool morning breeze on my skin finishing up satiated and energised.

The young boy and I set out late today. Like Spain it was rolling and even more so in that it was many short inclines and declines. Many of them sharp enough to leave us breathless.

The views were of vineyards, quaint homes and tiny lanes – a quintessential feel of a run in a French village. Or so I liked to imagine. Was this quintessential?

It was the conversations, the encouragement, the run in itself with the young boy that was all that was pure and needed.

Today was travel from Spain to France. It was many hours of stopovers, flights and drives.

Nothing much to report for today other than that it didn’t feel like much of a rest.

Today I ran alone. I took the same route as yesterday. At the café which was the turn around point yesterday, I pushed on. But it was good to see the cafe – Chameli – I wondered if there was an Indian connection. The kind of café that spilled into the pavement – muffins, croissants and assortments in the glass cases. Regulars sipped their morning coffee and read newspapers. I pushed on ahead. It was quiet and still, save for few walkers, cyclists and runners and the occasional car flying past at European speed.

A few kilometres on, I picked up a snickers bar and a bottle of water at a gas station.

The pavement designed for cyclists and runners seemed to extend for miles. Ribbons of tree lined asphalt punctuated with glimpses of the Balearic sea and sunrise behind snatches of cotton wool clouds was my view until I reached the next town.

Within a couple of miles I had crossed this dreary town that seemed to have a rundown look about it.

Onwards, the port of Palma and the city stretched before me. Massive cruise ships dwarfed the hundreds of sailboats and yachts in the harbour.

One titled Mein Shiff, that I guessed translated to My Ship from the German, must be exclusively for German speaking guests.

I reached the port, ferries and ships glowered above me, and I decided to u-turn back. Towards the end, I ran a few extra kilometres before finishing with another u-turn back to the hotel, rounding off a satisfying and rolling long run this Sunday morning.

One way to see a new place is to run through it. It always surprises me how in a few kilometres, the landscape and terrain and towns change.

One can see the mish-mash of a place come together, beautiful buildings and equally absurd architecture. What would these architects have been thinking.

At roughly the five kilometre mark, my sister and I turned around. It was continuously rolling. Not easy would be one way to describe it.

Coming back, one again notices things that were missed earlier. Of course – this can always be the case – no matter how familiar the surroundings. Just the other Sunday, I saw an embassy on Shanti Path that I hadn’t noticed before. I have all but forgotten the name again.

It was a bit on the fun and frolic last evening. After sleeping in slightly, I met up again with my sister and off we went for a short run. It was good to make it happen, with the inclines coming in a bit easier today.

Later in the day, I went to the steam and sauna for ten minutes – probably the first time I have really been. Not quite my thing but it was good to sweat it out.

My sister Roshini and I woke up determined to finish the run outside. Familiar with the surrounding and the terrain buoyed the easy decision.

Undoubtedly, this is cycling paradise. Not so much in this particular corner for runners unless of course I have missed a route.

It’s still fun, it was a great out and back and it is a privilege.

Exhausted from the hike yesterday, perhaps the travel in general, my sister Roshini and I met up at the appointed time in the lobby. Shattered, off we went at a slow pace, a beautiful morning enveloping us, near silence in the air.

We ran until the head of the trail, that we did the day before, where nearly the first words we said remarked at how beautiful and still it was. U turn and on the way back, rejuvenated and awoken, we hit the gym, each to our workout routines to round off the morning before meeting the rest of the family.