Last two days in Melbourne and was basically just hanging out with JD. Really cool thing to do to finish off. I have always looked up to Jackie and admired her 'can do', no nonsense attitude. And she's a laugh as well. We've got to know each other so much better. We went phone shopping... for her this time, saw some stunning art at a gallery in the city, especially the Aboriginal paintings, drank and ate. Talked politics, history, relationships and a whole load of nonsense too. We also had lunch with the 'new' relatives. Keith was lovely bloke. His wife Pat was there too, though she wasn't too keen on the food at the Japanese restaurant we'd booked. Hey ho!
But finally, it's time to come back to earth.... As I type I am at Hong Kong... Halfway. More later, as only a brief stop this time.
Hey. That was quick! Now on bus from Heathrow to Reading where Karen and kids will be waiting to collect me. Really excited to see them... And more than ready for a cup of tea and a change of socks. Flights were both fine and hassle free. And now I'm back - journey done.
Except, all that 'me' stuff that I've been pondering in recent days probably needs a line drawn under it... And Michelle's been badgering for conclusions. What I think I HAVE been able to do, which was really what was needed, was just breathe fresh air for a bit and take stock. Sure, there have been amazing distractions along the way. But the one constant has been ... me. I was there throughout. I'm the same bloke who set off, suffering from recent stresses and running away from it all, five weeks ago. I now have a few new tales to tell, and a few more greys to pluck. I am holiday chilled... and after so long away, I bloody well should be! But I think aside from that, I am more at peace with myself than I was a few weeks back.
You know, if there's any conclusion I draw, it's that we are each in control of our own lives. We make the choices and decisions that matter, and drive ourselves forward. Or we don't. Of course we can't prevent stuff like motorbikes breaking down... but that's not what's important. The direction we choose to take, and I don't mean left or right. In recent weeks I've literally been making it all up as I went along, with just a vague plan in mind, and it's been fine to just wing it. In fact, it's been brilliant. I've come to trust my own judgement a bit more.
In my recent life, I've acted with my head screwed on, though I hope also with a mind to the impact my decisions have on others. But I also recognise my choices have been in my own best interests, ultimately. Have I been selfish? Maybe. But I know that I'm a decent, kind and considerate bloke. And I quite like me, and that little adventurous, independent spirit I've rediscovered. I know that I can cope with just about anything. Stay calm and carry on! And my time in Down Under land may be over, but the 'journey' never stops. Moving on and forward. Big open road still ahead with, I've no doubt, a few more devious twists and turns for me. I'm going.... thataway. And I'm going to enjoy the ride.
Saturday, 19 November 2011
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
something fishy
After so many days of pushing on, driving forward, it feels oddly decadent to have a lay in in the morning! Wherever I've stayed I've been awoken fairly early on by the sounds of nature ... cockatoos squawking, waves lapping, dorm mates coughing (and farting)... and while under canvas I've invariably been cold, and usually wet too. But back at Jackie's home, the quiet, warmth and comfort means I've been laying in, which isn't like me at all.
Anyway, yesterday I headed into the city around lunchtime for some shopping and rode around on the old fashioned and iconic circle tram. It's a slow way to see the sights. Wandered about, sipped tea, ate cakes and generally enjoyed myself doing nothing much at all. Later in the afternoon I finally got to meet some of JD's gang... and they're all lovely. Judes and Keith are Jackie's oldest mates in Australia, and were SOooo lovely. While at their (stunningly beautiful!) home, I was served, and ate, little salmon things on cream cheese and bread. Jackie eats fish but doesn't do meat, and hadn't mentioned to Judes that I was a veggie. But - here's the revelation - I really quite liked it. It didn't 'taste fishy' if you know what I mean? It was a 'clean' taste, and really delicious. Not at all what I'd expected salmon to be like. I must've seen some cheapo stuff in the past, I guess. And not to be too polite, I polished off several more, ha ha. I'm a convert! Sat in the immaculate garden, sipping champagne and eating salmon, and chatting to two of the most genuinely lovely people you could hope to meet... it was a great afternoon.
From there it was a taxi to another of Melbourne's seventeen trillion excellent restaurants. And three more of JD's closest pals. I've heard tons about them all individually, and it was good to finally puts faces to names and tales. And again, the most amazingly lovely food. And lots more wine. Both Jackie and me were slightly sozzled but happy as we tottered back to her home, thankfully just a short walk away.
And today, the beginning of the end I guess. I got up (after another lay in!) and washed Blue before riding him for the last time back to the hire shop. Yes Mum, you can breathe again -and sorry to any of you who've been worried by my self indulgent desire to do this on two wheels, and alone. It's been a fab journey, but not ready to write up my conclusions JUST yet Flo. Bike needs to be checked-over by mechanic before I have it confirmed that I'll get my full $2,000 deposit back. Fingers crossed!! But I like and trust them, as the hire firm have been great at every stage so far. Should hear tmrw.
More touristy stuff and just generally pleasing myself in the big city again this afternoon... walked through the huge covered market, ate an enormous bag of delicious cherries in the park in the sunshine, took a tour of Captain Cook's cottage, and tonight, I'm off to the theatre - again- with another of Jackie's old pals. Remember I couldn't name the BMW Bruce because I didn't want to cause confusion or smutty innuendo? It's Bruce who I'm out with tonight. Another face to a name. He has a great telephone voice, and that's about all I know. Will be a bit like a blind date ;0) And Brandon, you'll be delighted to hear we're going to see Love Never Dies. Bargain tickets on sale. Love a bargain... then, depending on our moods later, we could be gaying it up. I really like this ... such a lark!
Anyway, yesterday I headed into the city around lunchtime for some shopping and rode around on the old fashioned and iconic circle tram. It's a slow way to see the sights. Wandered about, sipped tea, ate cakes and generally enjoyed myself doing nothing much at all. Later in the afternoon I finally got to meet some of JD's gang... and they're all lovely. Judes and Keith are Jackie's oldest mates in Australia, and were SOooo lovely. While at their (stunningly beautiful!) home, I was served, and ate, little salmon things on cream cheese and bread. Jackie eats fish but doesn't do meat, and hadn't mentioned to Judes that I was a veggie. But - here's the revelation - I really quite liked it. It didn't 'taste fishy' if you know what I mean? It was a 'clean' taste, and really delicious. Not at all what I'd expected salmon to be like. I must've seen some cheapo stuff in the past, I guess. And not to be too polite, I polished off several more, ha ha. I'm a convert! Sat in the immaculate garden, sipping champagne and eating salmon, and chatting to two of the most genuinely lovely people you could hope to meet... it was a great afternoon.
From there it was a taxi to another of Melbourne's seventeen trillion excellent restaurants. And three more of JD's closest pals. I've heard tons about them all individually, and it was good to finally puts faces to names and tales. And again, the most amazingly lovely food. And lots more wine. Both Jackie and me were slightly sozzled but happy as we tottered back to her home, thankfully just a short walk away.
And today, the beginning of the end I guess. I got up (after another lay in!) and washed Blue before riding him for the last time back to the hire shop. Yes Mum, you can breathe again -and sorry to any of you who've been worried by my self indulgent desire to do this on two wheels, and alone. It's been a fab journey, but not ready to write up my conclusions JUST yet Flo. Bike needs to be checked-over by mechanic before I have it confirmed that I'll get my full $2,000 deposit back. Fingers crossed!! But I like and trust them, as the hire firm have been great at every stage so far. Should hear tmrw.
More touristy stuff and just generally pleasing myself in the big city again this afternoon... walked through the huge covered market, ate an enormous bag of delicious cherries in the park in the sunshine, took a tour of Captain Cook's cottage, and tonight, I'm off to the theatre - again- with another of Jackie's old pals. Remember I couldn't name the BMW Bruce because I didn't want to cause confusion or smutty innuendo? It's Bruce who I'm out with tonight. Another face to a name. He has a great telephone voice, and that's about all I know. Will be a bit like a blind date ;0) And Brandon, you'll be delighted to hear we're going to see Love Never Dies. Bargain tickets on sale. Love a bargain... then, depending on our moods later, we could be gaying it up. I really like this ... such a lark!
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
friends reunited
Back on the road by mid morning, after limping Blue along in first gear to a one man mechanic a few kilometres outside town. Not a fun ride. Especially over gravelly roads where I fought to control the back end, even though I was crawling. The screw was a big one, about 5cm long, and had made a sizeable tear in the inner tube. But it was a relatively easy fix and we were back in business.
Despite the hiccup, I'd worked out there was still one final challenging route left to ride on my way back into Melbourne. The Black Spur run comes down through a steep, tree and fern lined valley. The trees are tall and straight, and come right to the edge of the tarmac. And there were more of those devilishly delicious twists and hairpin bends to keep a biker boy entertained! The biker atlas author reckoned this to be one of the best runs in the country, and I wouldn't argue with that. But it was short too... just 13km. I did 845km on a single one of the other top 200 roads .... THAT'S going from one real extreme to the other.
Back into traffic and a crawl through the sprawl of the Melbourne suburbs in mid afternoon traffic. Not nearly as much fun. Back at Jackie's home and I dumped my gear outside ... I'd forgotten the code to her alarm and didn't want to set it off. Didn't want to wait too long, either, as I had a date with a mate.
Claire was a good pal during my first job on the Reading Chronicle a hundred years ago. I lost touch with her down the years but knew she and her husband had moved to Melbourne. All my attempts, on and off for several weeks back in UK, to locate her had drawn a blank. But Google in Oz must be different, and I traced her to a charity where she used to work, and some kind soul there put us in contact. Spent a lovely evening catching up on what we've done with our lives in the twelve or more years since we last met. Promised I won't lose contact again.
Persisting down as I rode the twenty five minute trip back to JD's. Got soaked... yet again. I'm now warm and dry without the prospect of a long journey ahead again tomorrow. And while I've been out this evening, Jackie's kindly done my washing too! Probably the last laundry before I fly home. It's good to be back here again for my final few days. I can relax awhile....
Despite the hiccup, I'd worked out there was still one final challenging route left to ride on my way back into Melbourne. The Black Spur run comes down through a steep, tree and fern lined valley. The trees are tall and straight, and come right to the edge of the tarmac. And there were more of those devilishly delicious twists and hairpin bends to keep a biker boy entertained! The biker atlas author reckoned this to be one of the best runs in the country, and I wouldn't argue with that. But it was short too... just 13km. I did 845km on a single one of the other top 200 roads .... THAT'S going from one real extreme to the other.
Back into traffic and a crawl through the sprawl of the Melbourne suburbs in mid afternoon traffic. Not nearly as much fun. Back at Jackie's home and I dumped my gear outside ... I'd forgotten the code to her alarm and didn't want to set it off. Didn't want to wait too long, either, as I had a date with a mate.
Claire was a good pal during my first job on the Reading Chronicle a hundred years ago. I lost touch with her down the years but knew she and her husband had moved to Melbourne. All my attempts, on and off for several weeks back in UK, to locate her had drawn a blank. But Google in Oz must be different, and I traced her to a charity where she used to work, and some kind soul there put us in contact. Spent a lovely evening catching up on what we've done with our lives in the twelve or more years since we last met. Promised I won't lose contact again.
Persisting down as I rode the twenty five minute trip back to JD's. Got soaked... yet again. I'm now warm and dry without the prospect of a long journey ahead again tomorrow. And while I've been out this evening, Jackie's kindly done my washing too! Probably the last laundry before I fly home. It's good to be back here again for my final few days. I can relax awhile....
Monday, 14 November 2011
abridged
Keeping a journal like this serves two purposes. It means I'm not travelling completely solo, because the people most important to me are sharing the ride... at least in spirit. And hopefully when I look back and re-read my ramblings in the future, it'll remind me of some of the things I'd forgotten. Every day, and every place I've visited, has been interesting and rewarding, but of course I can't write it ALL down. Some just wouldn't translate, and it'd take too long for me to type on my phone, one fingered.. and may be a bit dull for my nearest and dearest to read, which I wouldn't want.
But there have been so many, many moments which I've tried to commit to memory. Little nuggets of pure joy that make me smile in delight. Usually simple, tiny things, like an Aussie lady shouting at her dog, Eddie, to ' bloody well shut up, you mongrel' this morning. Maybe you had to be there....?
I stopped and had breakfast at a small town called Towong. A pot of loose leaf tea and a toasted egg roll. In the sunshine outside. Simple pleasures.
Riding along, I was back in the hilly country when the noise of my approaching engine must have startled a flock of at least sixty cockatoos. They took flight, sqwawking into the air as I reached them, their feathers brilliant white in the morning sun as they flashed across my field of vision.
Further into the hills, and I rounded a tight bend to see a huge stag in my path not forty metres from me. I was going quite slowly, and as I got closer, he leapt up the bank and into the woods. He was massive... moose size. Must find out what sort of deer they have here. Huge antlers.
I was meant to be following one of my 'top 200 biker roads' and I'd passed several signs warning that the twisty, cunning road I was riding was an accident blackspot for bikes. Could understand why. High in the mountains, there were sheer drops and narrow bends... recommended speed signs suggested 15 kmph on some hairpin bends... that's barely above walking pace. Then I came to a junction and realised I'd gone 15 kilometres the wrong way! So, I turned round and re-traced my path through the hazardous section all over again. What a lark! I may not be as fast as some of my biker mates (you know who you are!) but nobody could have been enjoying this more than me right then !
In my biking atlas I'd seen a photo of a bridge which I wanted to cross. It was at the far end of Lake Hume, a massive body of water created when they'd built a dam across the Murray River. They drowned a forest and shifted a town to do it. But the skeletons of thousands of dead trees stick up out of the water still. It's a surreal sight. I skirted the lake for mile after mile and finally found my bridge, bigger and more photogenic than I'd hoped for. Camera out, I was poised as four bikers came roaring across. Short of getting a shot of ME on it, this was next best thing. So little traffic I could have been waiting an age to get even one motorbike.
I crossed over, then went for a swim in the lake... up to and around one of the drowned trees.
Pit stop in the most picturesque of country towns, called Beechworth. Just how you've always imagined an Australian town to be, with verandahs and covered walkways to escape the beating heat. Then back on the road and headed towards Melbourne, journey's end almost in sight.
It had been a brilliant day .... right up to the point where Blue starting feeling a bit odd... I was riding a gravelly road and put it down to that, but the shaking got worse, so I pulled over. Buried in my rear type was a metal screw. Fortunately it hadn't burst outright, but it was clearly going down. So, I very carefully limped back a few kilometres to the nearest town, Mansfield, found a camping ground, and called the out-of-hours breakdown number - again! Trevor, who'd been so helpful over Russell's demise, laughed! At least I was in the right State this time. He reckons he can get a tyre repair crew to me in the morning. So, there was nothing more to be done than to find a pub. All's fine... another minor blip in the big scheme of things, and certainly not enough to spoil a really special day - one of the best.
But there have been so many, many moments which I've tried to commit to memory. Little nuggets of pure joy that make me smile in delight. Usually simple, tiny things, like an Aussie lady shouting at her dog, Eddie, to ' bloody well shut up, you mongrel' this morning. Maybe you had to be there....?
I stopped and had breakfast at a small town called Towong. A pot of loose leaf tea and a toasted egg roll. In the sunshine outside. Simple pleasures.
Riding along, I was back in the hilly country when the noise of my approaching engine must have startled a flock of at least sixty cockatoos. They took flight, sqwawking into the air as I reached them, their feathers brilliant white in the morning sun as they flashed across my field of vision.
Further into the hills, and I rounded a tight bend to see a huge stag in my path not forty metres from me. I was going quite slowly, and as I got closer, he leapt up the bank and into the woods. He was massive... moose size. Must find out what sort of deer they have here. Huge antlers.
I was meant to be following one of my 'top 200 biker roads' and I'd passed several signs warning that the twisty, cunning road I was riding was an accident blackspot for bikes. Could understand why. High in the mountains, there were sheer drops and narrow bends... recommended speed signs suggested 15 kmph on some hairpin bends... that's barely above walking pace. Then I came to a junction and realised I'd gone 15 kilometres the wrong way! So, I turned round and re-traced my path through the hazardous section all over again. What a lark! I may not be as fast as some of my biker mates (you know who you are!) but nobody could have been enjoying this more than me right then !
In my biking atlas I'd seen a photo of a bridge which I wanted to cross. It was at the far end of Lake Hume, a massive body of water created when they'd built a dam across the Murray River. They drowned a forest and shifted a town to do it. But the skeletons of thousands of dead trees stick up out of the water still. It's a surreal sight. I skirted the lake for mile after mile and finally found my bridge, bigger and more photogenic than I'd hoped for. Camera out, I was poised as four bikers came roaring across. Short of getting a shot of ME on it, this was next best thing. So little traffic I could have been waiting an age to get even one motorbike.
I crossed over, then went for a swim in the lake... up to and around one of the drowned trees.
Pit stop in the most picturesque of country towns, called Beechworth. Just how you've always imagined an Australian town to be, with verandahs and covered walkways to escape the beating heat. Then back on the road and headed towards Melbourne, journey's end almost in sight.
It had been a brilliant day .... right up to the point where Blue starting feeling a bit odd... I was riding a gravelly road and put it down to that, but the shaking got worse, so I pulled over. Buried in my rear type was a metal screw. Fortunately it hadn't burst outright, but it was clearly going down. So, I very carefully limped back a few kilometres to the nearest town, Mansfield, found a camping ground, and called the out-of-hours breakdown number - again! Trevor, who'd been so helpful over Russell's demise, laughed! At least I was in the right State this time. He reckons he can get a tyre repair crew to me in the morning. So, there was nothing more to be done than to find a pub. All's fine... another minor blip in the big scheme of things, and certainly not enough to spoil a really special day - one of the best.
Sunday, 13 November 2011
river deep, mountain high
So I'd decided not to rush away from Canberra as it a beautiful sunny morning. Instead I went for a swim in the river. It IS a recognised swimming and cruisy sunbathing area, on the Murrumbingee, and a fair few others had the same idea. Spent a couple of hours with my kit off, alternately sunning and reading, then swimming in the brownish, languid water. Together with some pretty big round fish. It was quite a rocky area, and I think at another time of year there'd be rapids. Finally tore myself away knowing I really needed to make up some miles. So back on ol' Blue and we were hitting the highway, heading for perhaps the last 'challenge' of my big road trip adventure... the Snowy Mountains range.
My plan was to cross the mountains and find somewhere beyond to camp for the night. By the time I reached the area it was already mid afternoon, and there were ominously dark clouds ahead. But, when's the weather stopped me so far? I pressed on, entering the Kosciuszko National Park, and into the shadow of Australia's tallest peak. I was the only person headed IN... and lots of bikers and four by fours were heading out? It was a Sunday afternoon, after all, and people with jobs to go back to tomorrow were rightly headed back home.
The lady at the park gateway reassured me that it was Ok to press on, and I'd be out the other side in around one and a half hours.. Which probably would have been the case had I not been having so much fun. This was biking nirvana. Not since the Great Ocean Road four weeks ago had I had to contend with such devilishly twisty roads. Winding up through the forest covered hills, my ears popped twice with the change of altitude and I really felt the fall in temperature and strengthening winds. Still no traffic headed my way, and I passed just a handful coming down. And then there was snow! Mercifully high above me on sheltered areas of the mountains... it probably won't last much longer as summer hots up.
The road was generally good, though loose gravel and potholes in places mean you have to stay alert, not just gaze in wonder at the scenery. Every time I rounded a bend I felt like stopping to take another photograph. It was SO peaceful when I did stop... which was far too often. Passing through deserted ski resorts and places whose names related to their history. Dead Horse Gap and Perisher Valley weren't exactly friendly-sounding! But those dark clouds passed peacefully by, and in the early evening sunshine I rolled into the village of Khancoban... an hour and a half later than if I'd just stayed on the bike, but where would have been the fun in that? I set out to breathe everything in, and that's what I did.
Tired, but exhilarated, I stopped off at the only pub in town for a cold 'schooner' of beer, then another, and a hearty meal. Chatted bikes and routes with fellow customers and landlord before stumbling off to find Blue and a tucked-away piece of grass to camp for the night. Sat there in the twilight until dark, just totally chilled out. and then crawled into the green coffin again and slept soundly. All that fresh, clean air had really blown me away....
My plan was to cross the mountains and find somewhere beyond to camp for the night. By the time I reached the area it was already mid afternoon, and there were ominously dark clouds ahead. But, when's the weather stopped me so far? I pressed on, entering the Kosciuszko National Park, and into the shadow of Australia's tallest peak. I was the only person headed IN... and lots of bikers and four by fours were heading out? It was a Sunday afternoon, after all, and people with jobs to go back to tomorrow were rightly headed back home.
The lady at the park gateway reassured me that it was Ok to press on, and I'd be out the other side in around one and a half hours.. Which probably would have been the case had I not been having so much fun. This was biking nirvana. Not since the Great Ocean Road four weeks ago had I had to contend with such devilishly twisty roads. Winding up through the forest covered hills, my ears popped twice with the change of altitude and I really felt the fall in temperature and strengthening winds. Still no traffic headed my way, and I passed just a handful coming down. And then there was snow! Mercifully high above me on sheltered areas of the mountains... it probably won't last much longer as summer hots up.
The road was generally good, though loose gravel and potholes in places mean you have to stay alert, not just gaze in wonder at the scenery. Every time I rounded a bend I felt like stopping to take another photograph. It was SO peaceful when I did stop... which was far too often. Passing through deserted ski resorts and places whose names related to their history. Dead Horse Gap and Perisher Valley weren't exactly friendly-sounding! But those dark clouds passed peacefully by, and in the early evening sunshine I rolled into the village of Khancoban... an hour and a half later than if I'd just stayed on the bike, but where would have been the fun in that? I set out to breathe everything in, and that's what I did.
Tired, but exhilarated, I stopped off at the only pub in town for a cold 'schooner' of beer, then another, and a hearty meal. Chatted bikes and routes with fellow customers and landlord before stumbling off to find Blue and a tucked-away piece of grass to camp for the night. Sat there in the twilight until dark, just totally chilled out. and then crawled into the green coffin again and slept soundly. All that fresh, clean air had really blown me away....
Saturday, 12 November 2011
war and peace
Bright and early today, off to take a tour round Parliament. It's a striking building, inside and out, modern architecture, opened in late 1980s. I rolled right up to front doors virtually... amazed that there was no security to speak of. Very different to home. Parked up in the underground carpark, and strolled in. Ah, security was inside, scanning bags, etc. But still surprisingly easy to get inside. Here, the emphasis is on giving the people access to their Parliament. The design of the place, literally sunken into the hillside, reinforces the fact that people are 'above' the Parliament... and you can literally stand on top of it on the grassed roof to prove the point. Embarassingly, as one of the early birds, I was first to get into the lift to the grassed roof area... and when the doors closed, the lift didn't move. And the doors didn't open. I pressed various buttons, before finally pressing the alarm. Security guard had to come and rescue me! Apparently I was supposed to use the OTHER lift. Who knew?
Tour was great - really fascinating, the parallels and the contrasts with our system back home, which was the foundation for what they do here, but again, the Autralian system seems so much more accessible than the stuffy Commons and Lords set-up at Westminster. The tour guide was a former barrister and we had a great chat afterwards.
Then I moved onto the Australian War Memorial - THE attraction for this part of the nation. It's a museum as well as the national focal point for remembrance. I visited on 12th November, but the previous day the place was really busy. Not only were they marking the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh mnonth, but of couse it's 2011 too. Alex and me had taken the kids to the Imperial War Museum in London just a few months ago, and there are similarities, but the whole ANZAC story is so much a part of the Australian psyche, it was fascinating to hear it being told by another excellent tour guide.
Wandered a bit after the formal tour - found quite a few Sinclairs among the 102,000+ names of the Australian war dead. Wonder how far back we'd need to go to find the connections to me? I also saw some stuff on the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan, and it reminded me, in a really brutal way, of the horrific things I saw there just before Remembrance Day two years ago. I was quite shocked by how vividly it came back to me, and I sat and blinked back tears - yet again - at my own, tiny experience, of war and the bravery and sacrifice and futility and madness. The young, vital man who I saw die from his IED injuries. I sent him and his family my thoughts and sorrow.
Back out, deep breaths, and glad I'd been, but I needed an antidote, so took myself off to the pictures to see 'Anonymous'. More Shakespeare, kind of. The conspiracy theory that the man who wrote the plays wasn't old Shake-y but a nobleman, and bastard son of Queen Liz herself. Really good entertaining stuff, thoroughly recommended, and all the plays were in perfect Received Pronunciation - none of the fun of Aussie accents this time ;0)
Tour was great - really fascinating, the parallels and the contrasts with our system back home, which was the foundation for what they do here, but again, the Autralian system seems so much more accessible than the stuffy Commons and Lords set-up at Westminster. The tour guide was a former barrister and we had a great chat afterwards.
Then I moved onto the Australian War Memorial - THE attraction for this part of the nation. It's a museum as well as the national focal point for remembrance. I visited on 12th November, but the previous day the place was really busy. Not only were they marking the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh mnonth, but of couse it's 2011 too. Alex and me had taken the kids to the Imperial War Museum in London just a few months ago, and there are similarities, but the whole ANZAC story is so much a part of the Australian psyche, it was fascinating to hear it being told by another excellent tour guide.
Wandered a bit after the formal tour - found quite a few Sinclairs among the 102,000+ names of the Australian war dead. Wonder how far back we'd need to go to find the connections to me? I also saw some stuff on the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan, and it reminded me, in a really brutal way, of the horrific things I saw there just before Remembrance Day two years ago. I was quite shocked by how vividly it came back to me, and I sat and blinked back tears - yet again - at my own, tiny experience, of war and the bravery and sacrifice and futility and madness. The young, vital man who I saw die from his IED injuries. I sent him and his family my thoughts and sorrow.
Back out, deep breaths, and glad I'd been, but I needed an antidote, so took myself off to the pictures to see 'Anonymous'. More Shakespeare, kind of. The conspiracy theory that the man who wrote the plays wasn't old Shake-y but a nobleman, and bastard son of Queen Liz herself. Really good entertaining stuff, thoroughly recommended, and all the plays were in perfect Received Pronunciation - none of the fun of Aussie accents this time ;0)
capital
That night by the river was peaceful, if again a little chilly. And JD ticked me off (rightly!) for camping under a tree because they have been known to fall and injure or even kill people in stormy weather, and I've certainly had plenty of that while here. I woke up, body clock again, at about seven, and sat and watched the mist on the water for a while, munching on a delicious, ripe mango which I'd bought the day before. Couldn't have had a better breakfast.
Packed up the tent .. travelling light it doesn't take long ... and got back on the road southwards. This was probably the poorest road surface I've deliberately ridden across. Some really very steep sections with twists and bends, but also very rutted, gravelly in places, and, believe it or not, with a notional 100km an hour speed limit. Needless to say I was being ginger ;0) I want to come back from this experience intact, and without losing my deposit on ol' Blue.
Bike's performing really well by the way, I like it a lot now I'm used to it. Stefan rides a big BMW and I know he rates his very highly too. The road I was on took me cross country, through more forests and farmland, most of it very high up still. The wind had eased a bit since yesterday, but it was still blowy in exposed areas. Then, down from Oberon and Taralga, through the first inland city in Australia, Goulburn, and on towards Canberra - the specially created capital city. To get there meant crossing a huge open grassy plain. Fast motorway through another extraordinary landscape... and windy again. Blue, laden down with luggage, is a bit like having a sail on the side of the bike. It catches, the wind and you're constantly adjusting and shifting your weight to stay in lane and moving forward. Not relaxing as such, but diverting - certainly makes you feel alive!
Arrived in Canberra faster than I'd expected, in the early afternoon, and, mainly as I'd run out of clothes again, decided to check into another hostel. This time the big international chain, YHA. Had had enough of grunge for a day or two at least! It's a pristine place, and the room with six beds I was shown to had only one other occupant. I dumped my gear and decided to do the laundry first, so it would all get dry. While that was going, I went for a wander round.
The city is odd. Its layout is very strange, lots of concentic circles, guaranteed to confuse a poor biker or pedestrian. The name Canberra is from the local Aboriginal dialect, and means 'meeting place'. It was created because neither Sydney or Melbourne wanted the other to become Australia's federal capital. The city rivalries are really quite marked - everyone connected with one of the cities plays the game, dissing the other. And they ALL seem to diss Canberra, ha ha. Few seem to have a good word for the place. Even the Canberran citizens I've spoken to were asking me 'why did you come here of all places?' I told them it seemed rude not to, as I'd been passing, but Jackie had also made some recommendations.
In the afternoon sunshine - hottest day for a while, without the humidity of Sydney due to the altitude - I took my shirt off as I wandered along the great grassy lanes towards the Parliament building. Not sure if the car load of young women who wolf whistled and called out to me as they drove past were being ironic. I am nearly 42 ... but they probably only saw my buff bod in the rugby shorts for a second or two, and didn't realise I could have been their father. Ha ha - made me smile for a while anyway, however it was meant. Never had THAT happen to me before.
Got to Parliament too late for a wander round inside, but I did sit awhile outside on the amazing grassed roof. Everything here is so green and well tended. And quiet again, but then the house wasn't sitting, and I'm sure it's not always like that. It was a long walk back to the hostel, and I wandered for a while to get food, then took a ride out on Blue around the city in the growing dark before hooking up with a guy I'd chatted to on Grindr. Good evening with him.
It's the first time I've really ridden at night here. there's always been a genuine concern I'd hit an animal crossing the roads... and on a bike that's bad news for both of us. I'd actually seen another 'roo bounce across the road 100 metres ahead of me earlier today, and there's tons of dead ones - and wombats - along the verges ... enough to let me know it IS a real hazard here. But riding at night, on the big loopy, and now quiet roads, was great. Warm evening and a pause down by the big artificial lake - everything here is man made - then back home to a comfortable bed, and no pile of crap to clamber over to reach it.
Packed up the tent .. travelling light it doesn't take long ... and got back on the road southwards. This was probably the poorest road surface I've deliberately ridden across. Some really very steep sections with twists and bends, but also very rutted, gravelly in places, and, believe it or not, with a notional 100km an hour speed limit. Needless to say I was being ginger ;0) I want to come back from this experience intact, and without losing my deposit on ol' Blue.
Bike's performing really well by the way, I like it a lot now I'm used to it. Stefan rides a big BMW and I know he rates his very highly too. The road I was on took me cross country, through more forests and farmland, most of it very high up still. The wind had eased a bit since yesterday, but it was still blowy in exposed areas. Then, down from Oberon and Taralga, through the first inland city in Australia, Goulburn, and on towards Canberra - the specially created capital city. To get there meant crossing a huge open grassy plain. Fast motorway through another extraordinary landscape... and windy again. Blue, laden down with luggage, is a bit like having a sail on the side of the bike. It catches, the wind and you're constantly adjusting and shifting your weight to stay in lane and moving forward. Not relaxing as such, but diverting - certainly makes you feel alive!
Arrived in Canberra faster than I'd expected, in the early afternoon, and, mainly as I'd run out of clothes again, decided to check into another hostel. This time the big international chain, YHA. Had had enough of grunge for a day or two at least! It's a pristine place, and the room with six beds I was shown to had only one other occupant. I dumped my gear and decided to do the laundry first, so it would all get dry. While that was going, I went for a wander round.
The city is odd. Its layout is very strange, lots of concentic circles, guaranteed to confuse a poor biker or pedestrian. The name Canberra is from the local Aboriginal dialect, and means 'meeting place'. It was created because neither Sydney or Melbourne wanted the other to become Australia's federal capital. The city rivalries are really quite marked - everyone connected with one of the cities plays the game, dissing the other. And they ALL seem to diss Canberra, ha ha. Few seem to have a good word for the place. Even the Canberran citizens I've spoken to were asking me 'why did you come here of all places?' I told them it seemed rude not to, as I'd been passing, but Jackie had also made some recommendations.
In the afternoon sunshine - hottest day for a while, without the humidity of Sydney due to the altitude - I took my shirt off as I wandered along the great grassy lanes towards the Parliament building. Not sure if the car load of young women who wolf whistled and called out to me as they drove past were being ironic. I am nearly 42 ... but they probably only saw my buff bod in the rugby shorts for a second or two, and didn't realise I could have been their father. Ha ha - made me smile for a while anyway, however it was meant. Never had THAT happen to me before.
Got to Parliament too late for a wander round inside, but I did sit awhile outside on the amazing grassed roof. Everything here is so green and well tended. And quiet again, but then the house wasn't sitting, and I'm sure it's not always like that. It was a long walk back to the hostel, and I wandered for a while to get food, then took a ride out on Blue around the city in the growing dark before hooking up with a guy I'd chatted to on Grindr. Good evening with him.
It's the first time I've really ridden at night here. there's always been a genuine concern I'd hit an animal crossing the roads... and on a bike that's bad news for both of us. I'd actually seen another 'roo bounce across the road 100 metres ahead of me earlier today, and there's tons of dead ones - and wombats - along the verges ... enough to let me know it IS a real hazard here. But riding at night, on the big loopy, and now quiet roads, was great. Warm evening and a pause down by the big artificial lake - everything here is man made - then back home to a comfortable bed, and no pile of crap to clamber over to reach it.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
city limits
..... where was I? Oh yeah, distracted by the many attractions of Sydney ;0) Pretty extraordinary couple of days - much debauchery! So, I did touristy stuff.... wandered and took photos which I hope will look great when you come back to mine for cheese wine and the holiday snaps evening. Brace yourself, there's a lot!
"Manly" could be my Grindr tag, ha ha, but it's also the name of a Sydney suburb best accessed by boat. So I hopped on a ferry for the ride, which takes you across the harbour, with stunning views. Caught a bit more sun, and also saw the bats people had told me about. Flying foxes were hanging in the trees.... loads of them, upside down, sleeping. I saw hundreds later that night, flying low over the city's Hyde Park. Their wingspan was well over a metre... amazing sight. Yes, Hyde Park. Those early colonists were either paying homage to home, or were distinctly lacking in imagination. Everywhere has a name from home... lots of Royal stuff too, which seems so outdated somehow. Some Aussies revel in that stuff - for most I think it's an irrelevance.
Then, I went from top to bottom, back on Oxford Street, with my new mate Steven, during a memorable night at various, ahem, establishments. Among the many things we did was go see another drag show which was very different to what we'd see back home. The performers here dance, pretty energetically too, but mime to the songs. They don't actually sing at all. They mouth the words. In parts it was like a badly dubbed karate movie... the lip-synch not matching what you're hearing, ha ha - quite a spectacle with the garish outfits and make-up. Steven was great company, and is hoping to visit UK next year so hopefully I'll get to see him again, and I can return the favour by showing him the delights of The Wynford Arms in Reading. That won't take a full evening then.
Anyway, after drinking and establishment hopping, it was time to creep back to my bed at the hovel... 5am!
Two hours later, I'm awake again, thanks to the girl with the hacking cough just across from me. We were all mumbling, thinking why doesn't she get some antibiotics and sort it. Not much sympathy when you're a bit hung over.
I'd already decided the day before to head out of the city, itching to get back on the road. I've enjoyed the changing locations, and missed riding. Plus I was paying for Blue to just sit there looking pretty. So after sorting myself out, waiting for some rain to pass, and doing various admin things regarding paying road and bridge tolls, I was back on two wheels, and, totally unnecessarily - but unmissably - riding across Sydney Harbour Bridge. Magical.
Making the route up as I went, I was aiming for the Blue Mountains... named because they're covered in dense eucalyptus forests, and give off a grey-blue hue in the sun. The weather had improved hugely... sunny, but also very windy as the altitude increased. Again, the landscape was extraordinary. There's a place called Echo where the land just drops away. Sheer cliffs and all the land ahead for miles and miles is covered in forest. There's a rock formation called the Three Sisters, another of those iconic Oz locations used in all the travel brochures. Yet again I thanked my good fortune in coming at this time of year, because the tourist highlight was mine all mine while there.
Back on Blue, and making for a campsite in the middle of Abercrombie National Park. Passing little isolated towns with extraordinary names... some named after Western places, some possibly Aboriginal, others just plain daft. Amazing, twisty, hilly road, again from my superb biking atlas. Reached the campsite - and there were just two other vehicles there.... I camped quarter of a mile from them, next to a slow flowing river, under the gum trees. A female kangaroo, with a large joey in her pouch(wow!) watched as I put up my teeny tiny tent, then they hopped off as I sat eating my picnic dinner in the fading evening light. Silence again, apart from birdsong and rustling in the trees and undergrowth. At peace with the world... another time to have a little weep, but a smile-y one - and remember just how lucky I am to be alive and doing this.
"Manly" could be my Grindr tag, ha ha, but it's also the name of a Sydney suburb best accessed by boat. So I hopped on a ferry for the ride, which takes you across the harbour, with stunning views. Caught a bit more sun, and also saw the bats people had told me about. Flying foxes were hanging in the trees.... loads of them, upside down, sleeping. I saw hundreds later that night, flying low over the city's Hyde Park. Their wingspan was well over a metre... amazing sight. Yes, Hyde Park. Those early colonists were either paying homage to home, or were distinctly lacking in imagination. Everywhere has a name from home... lots of Royal stuff too, which seems so outdated somehow. Some Aussies revel in that stuff - for most I think it's an irrelevance.
Then, I went from top to bottom, back on Oxford Street, with my new mate Steven, during a memorable night at various, ahem, establishments. Among the many things we did was go see another drag show which was very different to what we'd see back home. The performers here dance, pretty energetically too, but mime to the songs. They don't actually sing at all. They mouth the words. In parts it was like a badly dubbed karate movie... the lip-synch not matching what you're hearing, ha ha - quite a spectacle with the garish outfits and make-up. Steven was great company, and is hoping to visit UK next year so hopefully I'll get to see him again, and I can return the favour by showing him the delights of The Wynford Arms in Reading. That won't take a full evening then.
Anyway, after drinking and establishment hopping, it was time to creep back to my bed at the hovel... 5am!
Two hours later, I'm awake again, thanks to the girl with the hacking cough just across from me. We were all mumbling, thinking why doesn't she get some antibiotics and sort it. Not much sympathy when you're a bit hung over.
I'd already decided the day before to head out of the city, itching to get back on the road. I've enjoyed the changing locations, and missed riding. Plus I was paying for Blue to just sit there looking pretty. So after sorting myself out, waiting for some rain to pass, and doing various admin things regarding paying road and bridge tolls, I was back on two wheels, and, totally unnecessarily - but unmissably - riding across Sydney Harbour Bridge. Magical.
Making the route up as I went, I was aiming for the Blue Mountains... named because they're covered in dense eucalyptus forests, and give off a grey-blue hue in the sun. The weather had improved hugely... sunny, but also very windy as the altitude increased. Again, the landscape was extraordinary. There's a place called Echo where the land just drops away. Sheer cliffs and all the land ahead for miles and miles is covered in forest. There's a rock formation called the Three Sisters, another of those iconic Oz locations used in all the travel brochures. Yet again I thanked my good fortune in coming at this time of year, because the tourist highlight was mine all mine while there.
Back on Blue, and making for a campsite in the middle of Abercrombie National Park. Passing little isolated towns with extraordinary names... some named after Western places, some possibly Aboriginal, others just plain daft. Amazing, twisty, hilly road, again from my superb biking atlas. Reached the campsite - and there were just two other vehicles there.... I camped quarter of a mile from them, next to a slow flowing river, under the gum trees. A female kangaroo, with a large joey in her pouch(wow!) watched as I put up my teeny tiny tent, then they hopped off as I sat eating my picnic dinner in the fading evening light. Silence again, apart from birdsong and rustling in the trees and undergrowth. At peace with the world... another time to have a little weep, but a smile-y one - and remember just how lucky I am to be alive and doing this.
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
slumdog
Bad bad boy - I got back to my hostel VERY late last night, after a good night out. Got chatting to a fella originally from Northern Ireland who's lived in Oz for ten years. We hit it off and ended up drinking in one of the many pubs in Darlinghurst area of city.
But strangely I still woke up at half seven..... and despite forecasts of bad weather, it was hot and sunny in the city, so I decided I would go check out one or two of those beaches. There are loads in and around Sydney ... it's just getting to them. Back on Blue, it was great to be riding again, but navigating my way round the city was tough. You know roughly where you want to go, but the road you're on won't allow a right turn. Two blocks down and one across, and you're into a one way system instead of being able to double back. Not stressful, just frustrating that I couldn't just follow my nose like normal. Eventually ended up going through a toll tunnel - which I didn't need, and which I still need to pay (by phone) - and finally emerged in the sunshine in an area where the road signs made sense.
Spent a couple of hours on isolated Lady Beach, which had great eye candy, plus views of the city skyline, then motored the short way to the famous Bondi Beach. It's a lot like Weymouth, if I'm honest! Same lovely sand. But with bigger waves, which the surfer dudes seemed to be enjoying. Sat and watched 'em awhile, eating chips and avoiding predatory seagulls. Bondi area is geared-up for young teens to mid twenty-somethings.... a lot like that night in Melbourne when I first arrived, with pec flexing himbos and chest jiggling bimbos galore. Not my cup of tea really, as the people watching is a bit dull, and almost voyeuristic when they're all so scantily clad.
Not wanting to be late for my theatre date, I rode back into city centre, which was a breeze compared to finding my way out. Parked up, showered and set off on the half-hour stroll.... oooh, those clouds look a bit dark. Suddenly there's the most incredible heavy downpour of rain. Really fat drops and wind and thunder and lightning. The city went from early evening brightness to dark in the space of a couple of minutes. Everyone was dashing from one shop awning to the next, timing the pedestrian crossings with a slight drop in the wind. Rain went on and on - not just a quick shower like I've seen here before - and it was a lot like in Thailand, Karen... remember that warm heavy rain that, if you had nothing better to do, and knew you could change your clothes, you'd revel in walking through? But I was on my way to the Sydney Opera House, and didn't want to be late or soaked. In the end, I just had to keep going. The rain stopped just in time for me to arrive there drenched through. So I sat through Act 1 soggy and slightly distracted.
Julius Caesar is a nice, straightforward bit of Shakey, easy to follow, and even in this business-suits and office chairs production, pretty powerful stuff. Good, but serious and heavy. And quite funny to hear the famous lines spoken with an Aussie accent too, ha ha! Mark Anthony could have just stepped off the set of Neighbours... "Mates, Romans, Countrymen..."
Fancied an antidote to serious culture, but my Irish mate was working late, and it was raining again, so I trudged back to the hostel to dry off and to find all nine of my dorm-mates had done the same thing. We were all wet and had decided to call it a night early(ish) ... it was about 10.30pm by time I arrived. Interesting bunch here, two other guys, rest all girls, ages range from 19 to 24. And then me. None of them believed I'm knocking on the door of 42 though, so that was good.... they may have just been saying it to keep the codger in the corner happy! They live like total slobs though... it's a human subculture I've discovered. Our room is a complete mess with all their crap on the floor in a pile that they all seem to rummage through like Slumdog Millionaire kids. Quite entertaining to watch, but I keep stepping on stuff I'd rather not... phone chargers (ouch) and used underwear (euck!)
But strangely I still woke up at half seven..... and despite forecasts of bad weather, it was hot and sunny in the city, so I decided I would go check out one or two of those beaches. There are loads in and around Sydney ... it's just getting to them. Back on Blue, it was great to be riding again, but navigating my way round the city was tough. You know roughly where you want to go, but the road you're on won't allow a right turn. Two blocks down and one across, and you're into a one way system instead of being able to double back. Not stressful, just frustrating that I couldn't just follow my nose like normal. Eventually ended up going through a toll tunnel - which I didn't need, and which I still need to pay (by phone) - and finally emerged in the sunshine in an area where the road signs made sense.
Spent a couple of hours on isolated Lady Beach, which had great eye candy, plus views of the city skyline, then motored the short way to the famous Bondi Beach. It's a lot like Weymouth, if I'm honest! Same lovely sand. But with bigger waves, which the surfer dudes seemed to be enjoying. Sat and watched 'em awhile, eating chips and avoiding predatory seagulls. Bondi area is geared-up for young teens to mid twenty-somethings.... a lot like that night in Melbourne when I first arrived, with pec flexing himbos and chest jiggling bimbos galore. Not my cup of tea really, as the people watching is a bit dull, and almost voyeuristic when they're all so scantily clad.
Not wanting to be late for my theatre date, I rode back into city centre, which was a breeze compared to finding my way out. Parked up, showered and set off on the half-hour stroll.... oooh, those clouds look a bit dark. Suddenly there's the most incredible heavy downpour of rain. Really fat drops and wind and thunder and lightning. The city went from early evening brightness to dark in the space of a couple of minutes. Everyone was dashing from one shop awning to the next, timing the pedestrian crossings with a slight drop in the wind. Rain went on and on - not just a quick shower like I've seen here before - and it was a lot like in Thailand, Karen... remember that warm heavy rain that, if you had nothing better to do, and knew you could change your clothes, you'd revel in walking through? But I was on my way to the Sydney Opera House, and didn't want to be late or soaked. In the end, I just had to keep going. The rain stopped just in time for me to arrive there drenched through. So I sat through Act 1 soggy and slightly distracted.
Julius Caesar is a nice, straightforward bit of Shakey, easy to follow, and even in this business-suits and office chairs production, pretty powerful stuff. Good, but serious and heavy. And quite funny to hear the famous lines spoken with an Aussie accent too, ha ha! Mark Anthony could have just stepped off the set of Neighbours... "Mates, Romans, Countrymen..."
Fancied an antidote to serious culture, but my Irish mate was working late, and it was raining again, so I trudged back to the hostel to dry off and to find all nine of my dorm-mates had done the same thing. We were all wet and had decided to call it a night early(ish) ... it was about 10.30pm by time I arrived. Interesting bunch here, two other guys, rest all girls, ages range from 19 to 24. And then me. None of them believed I'm knocking on the door of 42 though, so that was good.... they may have just been saying it to keep the codger in the corner happy! They live like total slobs though... it's a human subculture I've discovered. Our room is a complete mess with all their crap on the floor in a pile that they all seem to rummage through like Slumdog Millionaire kids. Quite entertaining to watch, but I keep stepping on stuff I'd rather not... phone chargers (ouch) and used underwear (euck!)
Monday, 7 November 2011
on foot
Spent the day wandering around the city. It's a lot like New York, but with hills. And beaches, apparently, though I've not checked any of those out yet. After breakfast, went to see Blue was Ok, then set off in blazing heat, to get my bearings, and to see THE iconic view of Sydney... the Opera House with Harbour Bridge beyond.
It's so familiar, that, like Uluru, you feel as if you've been there before. Pretty amazing up close, and I couldn't resist booking up to see something. Opera wasn't on... it was Janet Jackson (!) so decided on a bit of Shakespeare in the side theatre. Seeing that tmrw night - Julius Caesar.... can't beat a bit of betrayal and revenge. Need some highbrow to counteract the grungy places I've been hanging out in the Darlinghurst area of city. Love it here, very chilled and friendly scene.
Then I wandered in the Botanic Gardens which were beautiful - and free - sat in the sunshine on the waterfront to just chill and people watch awhile. All the city workers seem to come and stretch out on the grass on their lunch breaks. It was very hot and humid... and not surprisingly it broke into heavy rain this afternoon. But at least it cleared the air. I've found the house I'd buy if I ever moved here... some lovely streets right in the heart of the city.
And finally this evening I spoke with Kirsty! Timed the call so I'd catch her before school. Lovely to just chat and catch up with her. Missing her and Aidan tons. Not wanting to get maudlin at all, but it would be great to be sharing this part of the trip with someone.... Plenty of people to chat with, and the natives are VERY friendly, but with no biking to do, it's just me strolling for a couple of days. I suppose at least I'm setting my own pace and agenda, with nobody to compromise for..... I suppose that's a good thing.... I AM used to compromislng though, so it feels odd....
It's so familiar, that, like Uluru, you feel as if you've been there before. Pretty amazing up close, and I couldn't resist booking up to see something. Opera wasn't on... it was Janet Jackson (!) so decided on a bit of Shakespeare in the side theatre. Seeing that tmrw night - Julius Caesar.... can't beat a bit of betrayal and revenge. Need some highbrow to counteract the grungy places I've been hanging out in the Darlinghurst area of city. Love it here, very chilled and friendly scene.
Then I wandered in the Botanic Gardens which were beautiful - and free - sat in the sunshine on the waterfront to just chill and people watch awhile. All the city workers seem to come and stretch out on the grass on their lunch breaks. It was very hot and humid... and not surprisingly it broke into heavy rain this afternoon. But at least it cleared the air. I've found the house I'd buy if I ever moved here... some lovely streets right in the heart of the city.
And finally this evening I spoke with Kirsty! Timed the call so I'd catch her before school. Lovely to just chat and catch up with her. Missing her and Aidan tons. Not wanting to get maudlin at all, but it would be great to be sharing this part of the trip with someone.... Plenty of people to chat with, and the natives are VERY friendly, but with no biking to do, it's just me strolling for a couple of days. I suppose at least I'm setting my own pace and agenda, with nobody to compromise for..... I suppose that's a good thing.... I AM used to compromislng though, so it feels odd....
Sunday, 6 November 2011
bright lights
Another day in the saddle, but I'm now sat with a large cold beer in a bar in the centre of Sydney. I've earned it. Been a long journey, mainly because for the first time I've had to deal with traffic. LOTS of it.
Left Eden in the early morning mist, after a quick dip in the sea. It wasn't nearly so cold overnight, and a swim in the sea on my 'private' beach was a great way to start the day. The ride took me quickly back into deep forest, and more of the rollercoaster tarmac I'm becoming accustomed to. Followed the famous A1 road - which runs around the circumference of the whole of Australia. I've just been reading a book by two Irish biker journalists who did the whole route couple of years back.
The closer I got to Sydney, the heavier the traffic became. Being a Sunday, just as in UK, the motorcyclists were out in force, and enjoying the hot ride. Bikers are a friendly lot, and it's great to share all the nods, waves and smiles... again, just like back home. A biker girl gave me some helpful advice about how to get into the city centre without getting distracted by the flow of traffic towards ring roads. Signage isn't great, like most big cities, but not scary, and I managed to find my hostel in the heart of the city, park up, check in, shower and head out.
Currently at Stonewall pub where there's a terrible drag show on. Not my cup of tea... but there's lots else to see ;0) But am only getting my bearings tonight, and tmrw I'll hope to see the sights. For now though, I want another large beer.... the first slipped down ever so well
Left Eden in the early morning mist, after a quick dip in the sea. It wasn't nearly so cold overnight, and a swim in the sea on my 'private' beach was a great way to start the day. The ride took me quickly back into deep forest, and more of the rollercoaster tarmac I'm becoming accustomed to. Followed the famous A1 road - which runs around the circumference of the whole of Australia. I've just been reading a book by two Irish biker journalists who did the whole route couple of years back.
The closer I got to Sydney, the heavier the traffic became. Being a Sunday, just as in UK, the motorcyclists were out in force, and enjoying the hot ride. Bikers are a friendly lot, and it's great to share all the nods, waves and smiles... again, just like back home. A biker girl gave me some helpful advice about how to get into the city centre without getting distracted by the flow of traffic towards ring roads. Signage isn't great, like most big cities, but not scary, and I managed to find my hostel in the heart of the city, park up, check in, shower and head out.
Currently at Stonewall pub where there's a terrible drag show on. Not my cup of tea... but there's lots else to see ;0) But am only getting my bearings tonight, and tmrw I'll hope to see the sights. For now though, I want another large beer.... the first slipped down ever so well
Saturday, 5 November 2011
there's lovely
Yes, the stars DO twinkle. But I paid the price for experiencing that, because last night was bitterly cold. Then again, as the Southernmost tip of the country, I guess the next land mass is Antarctica. Certainly this was the closest to the South Pole that I'm ever likely to go. Woke up damp again too, as tent was under trees and the dew was slow to evaporate in the temperate forest.
Wilson's Prom WAS lovely and I could have stayed longer, but my sights are now firmly set on Sydney. Weather today has been the best so far, sunny and warm, with dry roads, and again, very little traffic on them. I decided to have a day's riding, rather than beach, to make headway in the decent conditions.
Victoria is a lot like England, in this coastal part at least. Green, grassy hills, lots of trees and ordinary looking farms. At times I could have been riding in the Berkshire Downs. Made various stops at towns along the way. Strange but familiar look and feel to them. A bit like Pangbourne with Wild West touches.
I've mentioned my motorbike map book before, listing the top 200 rider routes in Oz. Well today, by being a little round-the-houses, I managed to plan a route that took in three of them, and part of a fourth. This country really is amazing by motorbike, with scenic, traffic-free and entertainingly twisty roads. Stefan, you'd be in your element - I've been picturing your graceful line and doing my best to emulate it. The last 100+ miles were like a switchback rollercoaster through a forest of tall trees up to the tarmac edge. Yes, honestly, more than 100 unbroken miles through the hills and trees, in and out of sunshine and shade. I had to stop four times to clean my helmet visor of a greeny-yellow sticky substance, maybe pollen, and kamikaze bugs. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to see at all, they were so thickly encrusted.
And then I crossed another state boundary, into New South Wales... which is nothing at all like old South Wales if what I've seen so far is typical. Am camped up at a seaside town in the Southernmost corner, called Eden. It is lush (Michelle's favourite word!) and tranquil. Tent is just 20 metres from the sea, behind a thin line of trees and scrub. I'm listening to the waves as I type. Have just had the surpringly tasty veggie option at a nearby pub, and am turning in for the night shortly. Hopefully tonight won't be quite so cold, though it IS clear and starry again. It's just under 500 kilometres to Sydney now.... maybe tmrw I'll be gazing at another of those iconic Australian landmarks?
Wilson's Prom WAS lovely and I could have stayed longer, but my sights are now firmly set on Sydney. Weather today has been the best so far, sunny and warm, with dry roads, and again, very little traffic on them. I decided to have a day's riding, rather than beach, to make headway in the decent conditions.
Victoria is a lot like England, in this coastal part at least. Green, grassy hills, lots of trees and ordinary looking farms. At times I could have been riding in the Berkshire Downs. Made various stops at towns along the way. Strange but familiar look and feel to them. A bit like Pangbourne with Wild West touches.
I've mentioned my motorbike map book before, listing the top 200 rider routes in Oz. Well today, by being a little round-the-houses, I managed to plan a route that took in three of them, and part of a fourth. This country really is amazing by motorbike, with scenic, traffic-free and entertainingly twisty roads. Stefan, you'd be in your element - I've been picturing your graceful line and doing my best to emulate it. The last 100+ miles were like a switchback rollercoaster through a forest of tall trees up to the tarmac edge. Yes, honestly, more than 100 unbroken miles through the hills and trees, in and out of sunshine and shade. I had to stop four times to clean my helmet visor of a greeny-yellow sticky substance, maybe pollen, and kamikaze bugs. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to see at all, they were so thickly encrusted.
And then I crossed another state boundary, into New South Wales... which is nothing at all like old South Wales if what I've seen so far is typical. Am camped up at a seaside town in the Southernmost corner, called Eden. It is lush (Michelle's favourite word!) and tranquil. Tent is just 20 metres from the sea, behind a thin line of trees and scrub. I'm listening to the waves as I type. Have just had the surpringly tasty veggie option at a nearby pub, and am turning in for the night shortly. Hopefully tonight won't be quite so cold, though it IS clear and starry again. It's just under 500 kilometres to Sydney now.... maybe tmrw I'll be gazing at another of those iconic Australian landmarks?
Friday, 4 November 2011
big blue
Sat on the beach, watching the sun going down and listening to the sea. Great big crashing waves - not safe for swimming really, but fab to just lazily look at. I did have a paddle. It's a gorgeous evening, made all the better after a ten minute natter with Aidan just now. He's just getting ready for school, but knows it's sixteen days til I'm home. He's counting them, bless him. But then, so am I. Amazing the way technology has shrunk the world, that I can just call him on my mobile from here, and get a quick fix. I missed Kirsty though as she sets off for school much earlier now, to catch her bus.
Here, by the way, is Squeaky Beach, one of the sights at Wilson's Promontory National Park. The sand grains are peculiarly shaped, and do squeak as you walk along. It's only a couple of hours from Melbourne, and is the most Southerly part of mainland Oz. It's also very quiet now as tourist season is only just starting up. I had beach all to myself til two surfer dudes arrived. But even they're quarter of a mile away. Just warm enough to bathe in the evening sunshine.
Ride down was good - on board the new bike, which I'm calling 'Blue'... mainly as it IS blue, but it also seemed suitably Aussie sounding. Much lighter, nippier bike. Glad I had heavy Russell for road train routes, but Blue is a city boy. Which is just as well as I'm aiming to be in Sydney in next couple of days, to make sure I have time to really soak it in. Again, though, there's no rush.... as Aidan reminded me it's still more than two weeks to go.
Finally saw wild kangaroos! Two of them, as I rode into the park. I've set up camp next to a tidal river.... and the National Park warden has warned me that there are lots of wombats in this area. They come out at night hunting for food, and will apparently tear open a tent if they smell something inside that they fancy. If only I hadn't washed all my stuff at Jackie's yesterday.... some of those socks would have been an ideal deterrent. Although I fancy seeing a wild wombat so it's almost worth leaving out a goody bag, just in case one comes calling. The kids have a picture book about a wombat which I've read to them both loads of times at bedtime. One of our shared favourites. And in that, they're SO cute!
LATER UPDATE: It was dark as I walked back to tent. Someone's dog was walking towards me as I crossed the little footbridge.... although, hang on! That's not a dog. It was a wombat! Ambling along just a couple of metres from me. I took a hurried couple of pics, and suddenly there was a second one. I watched them in the gathering dark snuffling about by the water, then something spooked them and they scampered off. Amazing, magical moments. It's utterly quiet here. And cold and clear. I may be able to get some stargazing in tonight too. With no light pollution the stars are meant to twinkle, Kirsty. I'll let you know if I see that.
Here, by the way, is Squeaky Beach, one of the sights at Wilson's Promontory National Park. The sand grains are peculiarly shaped, and do squeak as you walk along. It's only a couple of hours from Melbourne, and is the most Southerly part of mainland Oz. It's also very quiet now as tourist season is only just starting up. I had beach all to myself til two surfer dudes arrived. But even they're quarter of a mile away. Just warm enough to bathe in the evening sunshine.
Ride down was good - on board the new bike, which I'm calling 'Blue'... mainly as it IS blue, but it also seemed suitably Aussie sounding. Much lighter, nippier bike. Glad I had heavy Russell for road train routes, but Blue is a city boy. Which is just as well as I'm aiming to be in Sydney in next couple of days, to make sure I have time to really soak it in. Again, though, there's no rush.... as Aidan reminded me it's still more than two weeks to go.
Finally saw wild kangaroos! Two of them, as I rode into the park. I've set up camp next to a tidal river.... and the National Park warden has warned me that there are lots of wombats in this area. They come out at night hunting for food, and will apparently tear open a tent if they smell something inside that they fancy. If only I hadn't washed all my stuff at Jackie's yesterday.... some of those socks would have been an ideal deterrent. Although I fancy seeing a wild wombat so it's almost worth leaving out a goody bag, just in case one comes calling. The kids have a picture book about a wombat which I've read to them both loads of times at bedtime. One of our shared favourites. And in that, they're SO cute!
LATER UPDATE: It was dark as I walked back to tent. Someone's dog was walking towards me as I crossed the little footbridge.... although, hang on! That's not a dog. It was a wombat! Ambling along just a couple of metres from me. I took a hurried couple of pics, and suddenly there was a second one. I watched them in the gathering dark snuffling about by the water, then something spooked them and they scampered off. Amazing, magical moments. It's utterly quiet here. And cold and clear. I may be able to get some stargazing in tonight too. With no light pollution the stars are meant to twinkle, Kirsty. I'll let you know if I see that.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
deja vu
Back in Melbourne tonight, and with a new bike.... a BMW 650 this time - exciting! Flew back with Quantas from Alice Springs, with the journey taking just under three hours, as opposed to the four solid days riding it would have taken on the road. Quite a relief to be able to move on again, after my few days limbo.
Met up with Jackie in the city to help celebrate some exciting news for her. A research project she'd put forward has had funding approved. The subject matter is right up her street, and it'll be keeping her out of mischief for three years. So she treated me to another yummy dinner at another great restaurant.
Now my laundry's in the wash, and once that's sorted tomorrow, I'll be resuming the road trip, although this time heading Eastwards. Weather here is promising to be sunny and headed towards 30s again. Hopefully I'll have started working on the tan before I arrive at Bondi Beach. Can't join the posing masses all white and pasty!
My new wheels need a name.... mulling on that one. Another Aussie bloke, or do we go all vorsprung durch technic, acknowledging it's a BMW? I'd considered 'Bruce' ... but Jackie's mate is a Bruce, and he's taking me out gay clubbing in a couple of weeks... don't want to have any embarassing confusion in future posts about me riding Bruce, do we?
Met up with Jackie in the city to help celebrate some exciting news for her. A research project she'd put forward has had funding approved. The subject matter is right up her street, and it'll be keeping her out of mischief for three years. So she treated me to another yummy dinner at another great restaurant.
Now my laundry's in the wash, and once that's sorted tomorrow, I'll be resuming the road trip, although this time heading Eastwards. Weather here is promising to be sunny and headed towards 30s again. Hopefully I'll have started working on the tan before I arrive at Bondi Beach. Can't join the posing masses all white and pasty!
My new wheels need a name.... mulling on that one. Another Aussie bloke, or do we go all vorsprung durch technic, acknowledging it's a BMW? I'd considered 'Bruce' ... but Jackie's mate is a Bruce, and he's taking me out gay clubbing in a couple of weeks... don't want to have any embarassing confusion in future posts about me riding Bruce, do we?
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
ripper
Shed a tear, friends, for Russell is dead! He was simply too crook. Had no oil inside and collapsed under the pressure, apparently. His heart simply gave up. RIP mate, you were great. You got me where I most wanted to go, and though our time together was brief, I'll never forget it. (Inquest on 'why' the bike had no oil is for the service engineer back at the hire firm, and his boss.)
So, what now? Well, the hire firm - bless 'em - is flying me back from Alice Springs to Melbourne tomorrow morning, and they're prepping me a new bike for collection in the afternoon. I SHALL make it to Sydney on two wheels! And hopefully on a newer bike too.
Sad as I am at Russell's demise, this means I don't spend five or six days on the road in 'less interesting' country, simply putting in more miles. The down side is that I HAD hoped to visit my old Westcountry TV and South Today workmate Lisa Batty, who emigrated to Brisbane a couple of years ago. It's still possible I'll make it as far as Brizzy for her promised barbecue... but the original route would have made her house a perfect halfway stop from North to South of the country.
My day in Alice Springs has been uneventful... apart from retrieving my stuff from the Desert Bikes garage, I wandered round town, went to cinema to see 'Warrior' - not bad - and did some shopping. Saw a few of the local landmarks, and took a few snaps, but Alice isn't an exciting city destination - it's a small, hot and dusty town, with bland shops and not an awful lot going for it. It's just a convenient 'somewhere' in the middle of nowhere. Harsh but true.
Back at hostel now and preparing to cook myself an omelette for tea and settle down for evening. Less of a make-do-and-mend place, this one, but ok. Nice friendly people in my dorm last night, including a South Today viewer who recognised me as soon as we started chatting.... 'aren't you on tv?' She lives in Chichester! Watched Avatar in the communal tv lounge, and it had strange parallels with here - the white man comes to Australia and shunts the Aboriginals aside to take advantage of the mineral wealth, mirrored what Sigourney Weaver and the gang were up to on Pandora. Or am I reading too deeply into James Cameron's 'smurfs in space' epic?
So, what now? Well, the hire firm - bless 'em - is flying me back from Alice Springs to Melbourne tomorrow morning, and they're prepping me a new bike for collection in the afternoon. I SHALL make it to Sydney on two wheels! And hopefully on a newer bike too.
Sad as I am at Russell's demise, this means I don't spend five or six days on the road in 'less interesting' country, simply putting in more miles. The down side is that I HAD hoped to visit my old Westcountry TV and South Today workmate Lisa Batty, who emigrated to Brisbane a couple of years ago. It's still possible I'll make it as far as Brizzy for her promised barbecue... but the original route would have made her house a perfect halfway stop from North to South of the country.
My day in Alice Springs has been uneventful... apart from retrieving my stuff from the Desert Bikes garage, I wandered round town, went to cinema to see 'Warrior' - not bad - and did some shopping. Saw a few of the local landmarks, and took a few snaps, but Alice isn't an exciting city destination - it's a small, hot and dusty town, with bland shops and not an awful lot going for it. It's just a convenient 'somewhere' in the middle of nowhere. Harsh but true.
Back at hostel now and preparing to cook myself an omelette for tea and settle down for evening. Less of a make-do-and-mend place, this one, but ok. Nice friendly people in my dorm last night, including a South Today viewer who recognised me as soon as we started chatting.... 'aren't you on tv?' She lives in Chichester! Watched Avatar in the communal tv lounge, and it had strange parallels with here - the white man comes to Australia and shunts the Aboriginals aside to take advantage of the mineral wealth, mirrored what Sigourney Weaver and the gang were up to on Pandora. Or am I reading too deeply into James Cameron's 'smurfs in space' epic?
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
press pause
As places to break down in the Australian Outback go, it COULD have been a lot worse. Yes, Russell is crook! We conked out about an hours ride from Uluru, in driving rain, two days ago. Thankfully I'd just passed and filled-up with fuel at a roadhouse in the back of beyond, called Curtin Springs. Little did I know just how familiar I would be getting with the place!
I was riding along quite happily a few minutes later when there was a sudden loss of power, and I gently slowed to a stop. I had no idea what was wrong, and quickly realised I needed help, so I turned round and pushed Russell about 7 kilometres back to the roadhouse. I realise how lucky I was to be so close - there are 100km distances between these stops! Pushing the beast was hard work, and I was knackered when I got there. And very wet. And it was really cold. THIS was the arid Outback which was supposed to be bone dry and blisteringly hot, remember.
Quick description, of a stone built single storey building, with a counter inside. Four fuel pumps out front. Coffee for $3 was a spoon of Nescafe and splash of milk - JD, you would NOT be amused! To the side was a home-made timber and grass shaded seating area, and around the outskirts were some ramshackle buildings, many looking as though they started life as shipping containers. The roadhouse was one side of a family business which is mainly focussed on cattle. They have a one and a half million acres... I think larger than some European countries! We're 100 kilometers from mobile phone signal, though they did have a pay phone ... you buy special cards for it. But it was a Sunday afternoon and nobody was answering the bike hire firm's out of hours emergency number. Hey ho, no big drama I thought, I'll leave a message on the machine. Three hours later I left another. Two hours more, I called again. Trouble is they couldn't call me back on my mobile OR the payphone... only the number to the roadhouse itself which I carefully repeated each time I called the machine.
Every time the phone rang I thought, "it's them". Finally, eight hours after I arrived, they DID call back, to say sorry but there was nowt they could do now. I'd already realised that was likely, so checked into one of the 'budget' rooms ... inside one of the converted trailers .... and collapsed into bed, having spread all my wet clothes around the place and turned the air-con onto heating, and up to full blast. I was chilled to the bone. Anyway, tired I hit the sack. We could sort it tomorrow.
Tomorrow came, and being a Monday I could finally speak in real time with the bike hire firm, who, unsurprisingly, seemed reluctant to go to the expense of getting help to me, being that they were five days away by road, and the nearest motorbike garage was at Alice Springs, four and a bit hours away. So, using more pricey phone cards I made a series of calls back and forth, getting tips on things to try, going away to try them, failing, and calling back for the next helpful bit of advice. I got guys from the bar to try to push start me. It was raining again heavily, and their hearts weren't in it. Didn't work. I got one of the cattle ranchers who rides bikes to help me access the battery and try a jump start. Didn't work, though, bless him, Jim, who was monosyllabic, at least brought his tool kit out and gave it a go.
Eventually, it dawned on the hire firm they WOULD need to send help. But 'Sorry mate, it's a bit late in the day now, we won't be able to get anyone to you til tomorrow'. Again, I'd anticipated that, and checked into the luxury room for a second night. The one reassurance was that the breakdown guy would arrive at 11am the next day, and would either fix Russell, OR at least transport both of us to Alice Springs and a fully-equipped workshop.
Over the course of my 54 hours at Curtin Springs roadhouse, I wandered round approximately 44 times, looking at the collection of horned cattle skulls - some still with peeling skin - decorating the walls. And they also had a semi tame emu wandering about to scare the tourists. And a bite-y mongrel dog. But with me becoming a long-term fixture, the property owners did become very chatty and friendly. "You still here?" (obviously!) "Not gone yet, mate?" (Errr, no) "Any news then?" (nothing concrete). I was a nice little earner for them of course ... eating and sleeping and drinking at inflated Outback prices. Hey ho.
To be fair to them, because I was chilled and not getting stressed, I think they quite took to me, even though I was a Pom. They'd experienced enough people passing-through over the years to form quick judgements. And when I finally started to have proper sit-down conversations, they were salt-of-the-earth types, rough round the edges from a hard life, but with some fascinating stories to tell about their lives and trials in such a remote place.
The guy who founded Curtin Springs, Pop, is 84 and struggling around with a hip needing fixed, but soldiering-on. We shared a chat and banter, and I think the rest of the family and staff saw that we were getting on well, and came to join us. Suddenly I was part of the family. We even sat down together and watched the Melbourne Cup on tv in their home, round the back of the roadhouse.
1pm the next day, and young Stevie turned-up from "Desert Bikes". Again, bless him for trying, but he couldn't find what was wrong. We had taken Russell apart and tried for several common faults before he finally conceded defeat, and we packed-up and hit the road for the drive to Alice. So tonight, I'm here, in another hostel, a little sunburned from the drive, and not knowing when Russell will be back on the road. It was 6pm by the time we arrived here, and the workshop closed at 5.30, so nothing's happening until tomorrow. Curtin Springs was an unexpected, unwanted pause. But ultimately I think I got more of a taste of the Outback with my enforced stay there, and I'll certainly remember it well..... Fingers crossed for Russell's return
I was riding along quite happily a few minutes later when there was a sudden loss of power, and I gently slowed to a stop. I had no idea what was wrong, and quickly realised I needed help, so I turned round and pushed Russell about 7 kilometres back to the roadhouse. I realise how lucky I was to be so close - there are 100km distances between these stops! Pushing the beast was hard work, and I was knackered when I got there. And very wet. And it was really cold. THIS was the arid Outback which was supposed to be bone dry and blisteringly hot, remember.
Quick description, of a stone built single storey building, with a counter inside. Four fuel pumps out front. Coffee for $3 was a spoon of Nescafe and splash of milk - JD, you would NOT be amused! To the side was a home-made timber and grass shaded seating area, and around the outskirts were some ramshackle buildings, many looking as though they started life as shipping containers. The roadhouse was one side of a family business which is mainly focussed on cattle. They have a one and a half million acres... I think larger than some European countries! We're 100 kilometers from mobile phone signal, though they did have a pay phone ... you buy special cards for it. But it was a Sunday afternoon and nobody was answering the bike hire firm's out of hours emergency number. Hey ho, no big drama I thought, I'll leave a message on the machine. Three hours later I left another. Two hours more, I called again. Trouble is they couldn't call me back on my mobile OR the payphone... only the number to the roadhouse itself which I carefully repeated each time I called the machine.
Every time the phone rang I thought, "it's them". Finally, eight hours after I arrived, they DID call back, to say sorry but there was nowt they could do now. I'd already realised that was likely, so checked into one of the 'budget' rooms ... inside one of the converted trailers .... and collapsed into bed, having spread all my wet clothes around the place and turned the air-con onto heating, and up to full blast. I was chilled to the bone. Anyway, tired I hit the sack. We could sort it tomorrow.
Tomorrow came, and being a Monday I could finally speak in real time with the bike hire firm, who, unsurprisingly, seemed reluctant to go to the expense of getting help to me, being that they were five days away by road, and the nearest motorbike garage was at Alice Springs, four and a bit hours away. So, using more pricey phone cards I made a series of calls back and forth, getting tips on things to try, going away to try them, failing, and calling back for the next helpful bit of advice. I got guys from the bar to try to push start me. It was raining again heavily, and their hearts weren't in it. Didn't work. I got one of the cattle ranchers who rides bikes to help me access the battery and try a jump start. Didn't work, though, bless him, Jim, who was monosyllabic, at least brought his tool kit out and gave it a go.
Eventually, it dawned on the hire firm they WOULD need to send help. But 'Sorry mate, it's a bit late in the day now, we won't be able to get anyone to you til tomorrow'. Again, I'd anticipated that, and checked into the luxury room for a second night. The one reassurance was that the breakdown guy would arrive at 11am the next day, and would either fix Russell, OR at least transport both of us to Alice Springs and a fully-equipped workshop.
Over the course of my 54 hours at Curtin Springs roadhouse, I wandered round approximately 44 times, looking at the collection of horned cattle skulls - some still with peeling skin - decorating the walls. And they also had a semi tame emu wandering about to scare the tourists. And a bite-y mongrel dog. But with me becoming a long-term fixture, the property owners did become very chatty and friendly. "You still here?" (obviously!) "Not gone yet, mate?" (Errr, no) "Any news then?" (nothing concrete). I was a nice little earner for them of course ... eating and sleeping and drinking at inflated Outback prices. Hey ho.
To be fair to them, because I was chilled and not getting stressed, I think they quite took to me, even though I was a Pom. They'd experienced enough people passing-through over the years to form quick judgements. And when I finally started to have proper sit-down conversations, they were salt-of-the-earth types, rough round the edges from a hard life, but with some fascinating stories to tell about their lives and trials in such a remote place.
The guy who founded Curtin Springs, Pop, is 84 and struggling around with a hip needing fixed, but soldiering-on. We shared a chat and banter, and I think the rest of the family and staff saw that we were getting on well, and came to join us. Suddenly I was part of the family. We even sat down together and watched the Melbourne Cup on tv in their home, round the back of the roadhouse.
1pm the next day, and young Stevie turned-up from "Desert Bikes". Again, bless him for trying, but he couldn't find what was wrong. We had taken Russell apart and tried for several common faults before he finally conceded defeat, and we packed-up and hit the road for the drive to Alice. So tonight, I'm here, in another hostel, a little sunburned from the drive, and not knowing when Russell will be back on the road. It was 6pm by the time we arrived here, and the workshop closed at 5.30, so nothing's happening until tomorrow. Curtin Springs was an unexpected, unwanted pause. But ultimately I think I got more of a taste of the Outback with my enforced stay there, and I'll certainly remember it well..... Fingers crossed for Russell's return
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