Distance: 15.10km

Elevation Gain: 460m

Time: 4h04

The early night the evening before meant that our 6am start felt surprisingly lovely.

We woke, did our 28 conscious connected breaths and a felt sense meditation together, packed our bags and were out the door by 6:45am. This route was meant to be the most iconic hike in the entire valley and it seriously did not disappoint.

After climbing relentlessly for about 45 minutes, we found ourselves high on the right-hand side of the gorge, the river rushing far below while monstrous mountain peaks towered above and alongside us. I honestly don’t even have the words to describe how exquisite it was.

The mountains here are gigantic. They are filled with cracks, crevices, colours and ridges that create so much drama throughout the gorge. Trees somehow grow directly out of the rock faces, forever reaching for the sun. Mum and I found ourselves trying to understand their root systems and wondering how they withstand such harsh conditions and weather.

And then there were the paths.

Perfect gravel and shale tracks carved into the mountainside, hugging the cliffs as they wound through the valley. Honestly, I cannot walk behind my mother in these situations. While I am hugging the mountain side and keeping a respectful distance from the edge, she seems perfectly happy to wander along as if she is considering levitating into the valley below.

I constantly hear myself saying, “Don’t you want to walk a little more to the right?”

Eventually I remind myself that she is a very capable adult and I carry on, although I still tend to stay slightly ahead of her so I don’t have to witness her enthusiastic edge dancing.

The path continues like this for around 12 kilometres, weaving through tunnels and walkways carved directly into the rock face. Every now and then we would stop and simply stare.

It was magnificent.

Truly one of the most beautiful hikes we have ever done.

The final section included several long, dark tunnels as we gradually descended closer and closer to the river. Eventually we crossed a bridge and arrived in the quaint and beautiful village of Caín.

It was exactly what you dream a mountain village will be.

Painted murals decorated the walls, hand-crafted carpentry adorned the buildings and the cafés served burgers made from real meat and bread that tasted as though it had been baked that very morning.

Once again, we shocked the locals by arriving so early. The lovely staff accommodated us as best they could while they completed their morning duties. We sat outside chatting, writing and soaking it all in before ordering a delicious lunch.

And now, as I write this, we are sitting at a secret spot beside the river on the other side of the village. We have taken a freezing dip, spent time reading and writing, and are simply soaking up the beauty of this extraordinary place.

Today also happens to be my ex’s birthday.

I wasn’t expecting it to affect me quite as much as it did.

There was a moment sitting beside the river when I became aware of how strange it is that someone who was once such a significant part of your life can become a stranger. So much has happened in my world over the past year. There are stories, experiences, mountains climbed and lessons learned that he knows nothing about.

For a little while, I felt the familiar sadness that comes with that realisation.

And yet, as I sat there listening to the river and looking up at these enormous mountains, I could also see how much has changed.

My life feels calmer now. More spacious. More aligned with who I am.

The circumstances of my life haven’t always been easy, but I have spent the last year choosing growth, choosing healing and choosing myself, one day at a time.

There are still moments when I miss what was.

And there is also a deep gratitude for what is.

The two no longer feel in conflict with one another.

Perhaps that is what healing looks like.

As I look around at these mountains, at my mum sitting nearby writing in her journal and at this beautiful adventure we are sharing together, I realise how much life has continued to unfold in ways I could never have imagined a year ago.

Not better.

Not worse.

Just different.

And, for the first time in a long time, I find myself feeling deeply at peace with that.