Eels, Kayaks, Rain and Fish

I have been nestled at the bottom of the world for a few days now and only because of a study start date looming am I inclined to leave. I made it to Queenstown after a fantastic flight showcasing the beautiful mountain ranges the South Island has on offer.

Mitre Peak, Milford Sound

Not so common although not shocking was the large amount of fresh snow lying on the mountain tops as a result of the cool southerly recently whipping the country. I could hear the murmuring of the Aussie tourists on the plane taking in the view and wondering out loud if the summer weight jumper they brought with them was going to suffice.

I would find it particularly difficult to explain how I feel when I set foot back in Aotearoa so I shall not try as I am sure any returning person has the same butterflies in their stomach when arriving home. Through all of the 28 countries I have traveled some have been flat and some have been mountainous, some have great ocean views and others have large warm lakes. Despite this I could not help but be a giddy school boy when I set out towards Te Anau even throwing an old school fist pump as I mounted Doris (who for some reason did not go back together nearly as well as she came apart in Melbourne). Making it as far as Athol, camp was no more than a farmers field just off the road and it is fair to say it was one of the coldest nights I have had in a long while.

Enjoying Doubful Sound on a cruise boat

There was snow again on the surrounding hills and the valley were Athol resides is a bucket for cold air where even my intense shivering would not warm up the sleeping bag. A quick glance at the temperature gauge just after 8am suggested it was no more than 4 deg so it was no wonder my toes were painfully red in my open toed sandals. Stopping for breaky in Mossburn did not help the cause as my breath was more visible in the café than it had been outside, I can hear a big cheer for Europe’s double glazed windows and central heating as I write this.

It became apparent very quickly there has been a lack of rain in the south. With the fire rating at extreme, the grass looked more like what I had come to expect in Australia than the lush green I know here. I was later told of the 4-5 week stretch of amazing sunshine the farmers had been enduring in this neck of the woods, and saw it for myself as I crossed Lake Manapouri en route to Doubtful Sound as the trees on the lakes edge had turned a rusty brown for lack of water.

Paddling in the rain

As luck would have it the second wettest place in the whole world did not disappoint with 2 inches of precipitation falling over a couple of hours and a wicked wind racing down the Fiord clocked at just over 70 knots, which we enjoyed over a hot chocolate with chocolate fish aboard the Patea Explorer. KT (the kayaking guide) deciding it was a bit sporty to get amongst. Fortunately the wind abated and the rain eased for a paddle in this land of shadows the following morning before we returned to Te Anau for fish and chips on the lake front bathed in beautiful sunshine, another wonder of this spectacular area.

Long finned eels out of lake Te Anau

A friend of mine who once took me up Mitre Peak in Milford Sound suggested we use the strong wind to have a sail on the lake. Although it was sunny there had been another shift in the wind and it was now racing from the North West down the mountains and across the lake. Sounding like a good idea I was given a crash course in sailing as our boat listed to a point where we lost the wind over the top of the sail. When some sizeable waves began to crash over the bow we decided we had endured enough and set a course for home and a bbq on the hill overlooking the lake.

Never one to miss out on the chance for an adventure KT had the truck packed and ready to go one evening, telling me we were off for an eel. Taking our sleeping bags down to where the Upakaroa river meets Lake Te Anau we caught two large slimy eels (one speared and one on a hand line) under a million stars slowly becoming engulfed by another front coming from the south.

KT Awesome with a Jock Stewart

We never made it through the night however, the imminent rain had us racing to get to the house back in town before everything went pear shaped. Still, it was a successful eel adventure. More successful than the following days fishing in Doubtful Sound with Billy, the Deep Cove hostel manager. A few hours on a line and we had a barracuda on board with a small shark and a number of Jock Stewarts thrown back to the sea gods for someone else to deal with. Than night billy cooked us a feed of crayfish and chicken. I could not believe it, not crayfish again!! And we all slept soundly to the sounds of weka picking through the undergrowth for grubs and the shrill squark of keas in the Beach Trees nearby.

Doubtful sound

Unfortunately another front will be coming through this afternoon on this my intended day of departure and as I sit here in bed looking at the rain hit the window and the wind raking branches across the tin roof I may well remain here and hope for a better day tomorrow for which to continue my adventure north. I will be heading to Queenstown then over the Crown range to Wanaka and towards the Gates of Haast and head north along the West coast road. As yet I do not know the final few days route into Nelson but I have plenty of thinking time before I need to make that decision.

Aussie Aussie Aussie

It is fair to say the last week and a half have been as dramatic a change in the environment as any in the previous eight months. I went from the sweltering heat of the Nullarbor plains to the incredibly challenging southerly winds heading towards Adelaide, to torrential rain, hail and freezing winds in South Australia and Victoria. The major difference was the turning of the wind. For the first time in as long as I can remember the wind was at my back and really pumping me along. I kept this heading for the best part of a week and have now arrived via the Great Ocean Road to Melbourne ready to board a flight to Nz in the morning and get the final leg of the trip underway.

 My decision to take the southern most route was based on the continuing praise I encountered for the Great Ocean Road, essentially a make work scheme from after the first world war, and for the most part I was not disappointed. From the point where I first entered it took a little over 20kms to actually see the ocean by which point I was getting frustrated and feeling ripped off. But then, in fairly spectacular fashion the Southern Ocean stretched out in front of me, dramatically churned over by the strong onshore breeze. The pounding of the surf on the steep cliffs roared throughout the day and the riding became a mixture of undulating hills and running for cover as another clearly visible squall rolled off the ocean and spat icy rain at me. The coast itself was truly a sight to view as the road came close to the edge. A steep drop off eroded by years of weather systems battering the limestone walls gave way to the beautiful aqua green of a shallow ocean before the darker blue suggested another shelf beneath the waves. I am sure it would seem a completely tranquil place in calmer weather.

 Because it is a national park I had to make my camping arrangements as hidden as possible to avoid incurring a fine but circumstances led me once again to camp in plain sight at the 12 Apostles viewing area. Just off the trail leading to the cliffs edge my tent sprang up and looked like it could have been part of the scenery if you thought at all to look that direction. Either way I had a peaceful night listening to the waves crashing and the cracking of my tent poles as the wind tried its best to splinter and break my accommodation. The following morning was much of the same with the exception of the cliffs giving way to a more graduated and less dramatic coastline but the sandy beaches were a beautiful distraction from the continuous riding.

I met an English couple in Apollo bay or thereabouts where we sat over peanut butter sammies taking in the nice afternoon sun talking about our respective trips. Two of the most inspiring people I have met on the road they have made the trek from London to Australia and will complete their journey in New Zealand in the coming months. We rode together to the small city of Geelong where they had a place to stay through a cycling website called warm showers. Long story short I ended up staying with them at Maxine’s house and even had the opportunity to ride with her the following morning as I headed towards Melbourne. Maxine is retired and an avid bike rider sporting a lovely trek bike and a shock of grey hair she pushed me as hard as I could manage for the best part of an hour before she decided to turn back. It must have been a sight, a 60 something lady cruising effortlessly with a 20 something chap with a overloaded bike sweating profusely trying, often in vein to keep up to her speed. Never the less we made a trip through the back roads and said goodbye as she turned for home and I made my way to the skyscrapers and towers of one of Australias biggest cities.

Along the coast I past another wildlife sign for Koalas. Not having seen many of these signed creatures I did not have high hopes for seeing this unique animal but as luck would have it I managed to spy one high up in a gum tree swaying with the gusty wind. I thought I should at least have a look around for one and low and behold at that very moment I spied what looked like a furry bum in the trees. After spending some time watching this furry bum eventually it moved and I was rewarded with a great look at its adorable fluffy ears and big black nose and beady eyes. I wandered through the trees for a closer and better look all the while under the curious gaze of the Koala.

On the outskirts of Melbourne I managed to meet with a friend whom I first me in Canada and worked with at an outdoor camp. We learned to canoe together and it has been great to catch up with roo (actual name, I don’t think his parents liked him).

For the final time on this journey Doris has been put in a bike box and had her wheels and peddles removed for another plane ride. Tomorrow afternoon some time we will arrive In Queenstown and begin the relatively short trip home to Nelson to where it all began almost nine moth ago.

It took 29 days with two days off to cross from Perth to Melbourne covering 3600 kms in the process. Most of it was tough riding but all of it was great fun and a beautiful wilderness environment. I take my hat off to the farmers and workers of the land on the arid hot and dusty plains. I am very much looking forward to biking the west coast road and I hope I can convince some people to come and ride with me for a few days. Its been nice to be around people again, something I hadn’t given a lot of thought for a number of weeks.

8 months of my life right there 

Aotearoa here we come, we’ve been missing you.

Norseman-Adelaide

It all started off ok and it seemed the heat people talked about was not going to be the big issue I was concerned about. For a few days I continued on my way largely keeping to myself but for the stops for water and greasy burgers at the Roadhouses spotted infrequently along the way. These stops were frequented by the substantial amount of caravans and RVs travelling the road not to mention the large number of road trains some of which are three trailers long and pushing a substantial amount of wind in front of them as they pass the opposite direction. All in all, the road is in good condition and interesting enough to bike along.

Rooey

The roadhouses along the way are mostly for people to get fuel but most also offer some kind of takeaway food and the beginnings of a convenience store, massively overpriced and low in selection but not one to shy away from high calorie food I was all over it like a fat kid on a cupcake. This is also where I would meet a lot of the interesting nomadic people that are Aussies travelling Australia in their early retirement years, most often with a sizeable RV in tow. High in praise and never short of a helpful tip they were fantastic characters, some of which I saw again throughout the course of the ensuing two weeks.

Nullarbor Plain

I never stayed at the houses, instead choosing to take my chances in the bush and road side pullouts where there was often the luxury of a table and the relief of getting off the ant infested dirt. At one such place I had my bottles filled by a charming camper who gave me some solid wildlife advice. “what” I asked, “should I do if a snake decides to slither on past while I am setting up my camp?” “Easy mate, stamp your feet like this (as he wobbled from side to side from one foot to the other) so they feel the vibrations and they will go away”. “And spiders?” “shouldn’t be a problem mate, just don’t go looking for things and you should’t find em”. I took this advice for a few days until I felt I had encountered a lack of wildlife so I took a long stick and a good torch and went for a wander one night. Turns out spiders of all shapes and sizes are quite readily found and interestingly enough the larger the spider the more likely it is to attack the stick where the smaller ones seem more likely to scurry away.  For better or worse the two snakes I have seen have both been at some distance on the road and not a concern for Doris and me.

Great Australian Bight

The most wonderful thing about Australia is the abundance of many types of birds. Big ones, loud ones (lots of loud ones), colourful ones, chirpy ones, and everything in between. I was sitting under a small bush fighting with the ants for the shade reading a book sometime in the mid morning when a flock of parrots each no bigger than my shoe came to investigate what I was up to. As they came in close and flapped gracefully around me I could feel the slightest touch of feathers as they kissed my face moving in closer as I stayed statue still. One of the birds landed on my head and proceeded to stomp around like a cat would trying to get the best position to have a sit down, which is exactly what this feathered creature did. As its mates continued to fly about me this one sat down and made itself quite at home on my head watching the world as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Doris also had a visit and with the passing of a road train the birds took flight in an impressive explosion of green yellows and reds back to the gum trees nearby.

Great Australian Bight

Against all friendly suggestions I went for a bike into the night. I was determined to see some wildlife and fortunately I managed through this endeavour to spot a couple of cheeky Kangaroos, a fox and what I think was a Dingo so it proved a worthwhile effort. That night also produced the longest ride of the trip, clicking just over 200kms for the days ride. A first for me and something I have wondered if I could do for a while.

There is a plague of mice at the moment and they are certainly not shy about making their presence known at the campsite. As the sun dips behind the western horizon in a blaze of beautiful colours the little pintsized rodents come out to play. They run over my feet and up my legs and if left unattended will continue over my back and head and wherever they like. Entertaining to a point but without an off button they can become a pain. Especially when they latch onto any part of you that is touching the mesh door of the tent at night.

Biking out along the longest wooden pier in Australia I came upon a group of Crab fisherman throwing their nets over the side into the shallow water and pulling up big blue crabs with almost every cast. One young lad could not wait to show me the biggest crab he had caught that day.

Fan to keep the sheep cool

Most people want to know about the water situation on the ride. Its fair to say that I have been carrying slightly more than I need but at the same time I would carry that much again. Over the last three weeks I have almost drank my body weight in water but it seems not to be a problem getting it when I need it. Across the plains I was getting it from campervans who would stop for me on the road side as well as the road houses, although they advised me not to drink as they didn’t. When they failed to give me a good reason I took that to mean they just wanted me to buy it at extortionate prices in the shop. There are a few rain water tanks along the way and a couple of tanks filled up periodically at road side pullouts and I make sure this is a last resort as its possible the water is not great quality. So not too many issues there.

Road signs, classic

As for the temperatures, I have had a couple of scorching days in the last week. The average temp has been around 40deg but in the sun on the road has been even hotter. The local news suggested the road was melting not 5o km from where I had just ridden and with my temperature gague maxing out at 50deg by 11am I was not surprised to hear this. I was a little shocked when I sunk up to my rims in sticky black tar as I peddled across a balding patch of road during the middle of the day. A bit of a far cry from the relative mild summer temperatures in Southern Europe when I was there and the winter temperature of -10deg in Scandinavia.

Blue crab Fisherboy

Original length, damaged by fire or storm. Conflicting Stories

Finally, it was with amazement that I wandered so close to the edge of the Australian land mass and tentatively peered over the edge. The huge cliffs are truly amazing and a breathtaking sight. The Great Australian Bight known well for its whale migrations each year is a beautiful blue and the big waves crashing into the shore make a thundering sound during the star studded night. Signs suggest to keep well back and the fence makes this suggestion even more apparent but the lure of the edge was too much and I had to take a look. Well worth it to see the ocean again in such glory and lucky enough to follow close enough to the edge for the next week or so.

Now in Adelaide I am staying with the parents of a cyclist I met in Paris (thanks Clint) and having a much much needed day off, sorting out some new shoes for Doris and recharging my batteries. Headed for the Great Ocean Road and Melbourne where the Aussie leg will finish.

London-Norseman

Leaving London was meant to be a relatively easy maneuver and it was in the end but for a minor mishap leaving me a few minutes to spare before I would have been left behind by the airline. I was filling in time before I took to the immacuately well planned route to the airport from Sebs apartment on the edge of Londons CBD. It was however a careless moment when I let the self locking door snap shut behind me as I left for what would have been the second last time to put the finishing touches on my bike box that was sitting in the hallway. In one of those moments you simply accept as fate, if or not you even believe in such a thing, I had been given Sebastian's business card as he left for his very important corporate job in the morning.

Dirty red dirt

It was this very card I found in my pocket as I made a credit card call from the nearest pay phone down the road. Fortunately Seb answered and said he would meet me half way on the tube. Unfortunately I was in a light sweater with no shoes and even more unfortunately I had one foot with painted toenails from my stay with Siobhan in East Grinstead the few days before. But as you may have worked out it all ended well and I made the flight landing in Perth where I made my way into the hot and dry plains of the Nullarbor region.

Straight out of Perth the same day I was very excited and full to the rafters with farmbake cookies, snake lollies and fruitcake not to mention the 12 liters of water I had decided to carry just in case. With all this I was as heavy as I have been at any point over the last 8 months and poor Doris really felt sluggish at first but then warmed into her own as the kms ticked by.

Mice everywhere

First the heat and the wind began to wear me out so I took refuge in my tent or better yet under the shade of a big tree during the hottest part of the day. Mornings are a pure joy to be riding and in the evenings as the sun is setting over my shoulder is even more fantastic. The temperature drops to a manageable zone and the cars are all but off the road and its as pleasant as pleasant can be. The first night out of Perth I was feeling a little woozy when I stopped at a pullout to make my camp. Without dinner and a little dehydrated after the excellent London catch up I was suffering and went to bed accordingly. Some time through the long night I woke and exited the tent in barely enough time to avoid puking all over the inside before repeating the exercise until I had nothing left but for the sticky green stuff at the end of it all. I dont really know what happened from this point but I remember having a hell of a temperature and I opened my eyes at one stage to see the sun poping over the horizion as my tent door was facing north east. That was the end of that day as I knew it as the next time I woke it was in the wee hours of the following morning again as the sun was poking over the edge of the earth and warming its edges. 34 hours without leaving the tent and I was good to go albeit slowly, on the road heading east and into the outrageous sun that this area is famous for.

Road train. Note Doris at the front wheel holding her own

Camel made from a roof

I followed the water pipeline originating from Perth and supplying all the outlying towns and mining communities their vital resource as well and making sure the public gardens are kept wonderfully green and lush in the main centres. I had no idea when I entered the state of Western Australia at the scale of the mining industry but it is epic. Over 2000 mines in this state alone was what I am told. At a small mining town called Norseman at the entrance to the Nullarbor Plains I had come in from a long ride and saw to the need to extract cash from a hole in the wall. As I was doing so I got chatting with a couple of 30 something burly lads who were curious to a point about what I was up to. Being that they were shifting from day to night shifts they had the following morning off so it was down to the pub for a couple of cold ones to the soulful sounds of karaoke sliding through the open doors and out onto the street. 


Not letting me reach into my wallet all evening I was impressed that these guys had work the following day and they looked after me well into the night. To that end one of them let me sleep on the floor of their 'dog house' as he called it and took me to the mess in the morning. "just walk like a minor" he said, "if anyone asks just say you are a driller and starting tomorrow" and that was that. All the spread of a well established restaurant with a spot to make a lunch for myself as I left. Needless to say I filled up with as much as I could carry and headed out to photograph the old roof made into a camel.

A very straight, windy and dry section

 The nights are truly amazing here as the light pollution is extremely low. Although I do not have the slightest clue about most of the constellations that make up the night sky, I find myself getting lost in them, staring for hours and loving the fact that they are once again the southern stars. Continually the song seven bridges road by the eagles runs through my head despite the fact the southern stars from the song are in southern California, it still feels like an appropriate song for this time of the trip. 

Fixing another tent pole by torch light

                                                                               With a heavy head I got up from my stay in Norseman and headed into the burning sun, rolling East and beginning the Nullarbor crossing, a journey of which nobody said 'mate that sounds like a great idea' when I told them I was planning on doing it at this time of the year.

Nothing can stop Doris. Perth, Australia

Viva La France

I meandered my way out of the very comfortable stay with Jos in Holland and turned the corner off the high street to be greeted by an old friend. The wind whipped the warmth from my cheeks and did a swell job of holding back the raging Doris the tank engine from chugging too fast down the tracks.

chocolate fondu, camping style

Lucky too as I was trying my best to get some good ks in to maximize my London visit which of course would have been much too straight forward if the conditions were friendly. In fact any day since that point would have been straight forward in friendly conditions. But there were things to do and places to see so I made my way south and west to a smallish town of Breda to connect with some recently met but instantly liked Dutchys. It was all the way back in Mostar,  Bosnia where we chatted over watermelon and dirty dirty plum brandy, casually making a decision to try to arrange a meeting should I come though Holland. It was again a short stay, just the night but when one lives out of a tent then a bed is nothing to scoff at, not to mention the hot shower and the good conversation. Thanks Jos (from the red cliff in Te Anau), Laurens and Natasha for keeping me well.

Sleeping on the decision to head mostly north to London or south and west again to Paris the thought of eating good food in the sunshine beneath the looming Eiffel Tower tagged a note on my imagination and guided me to the French capital. Despite the heavy rain and biting wind during the day it became one of the most memorable and exciting two hours of the entire trip.

Route de Paris

Houses and towns became more frequent as I neared the city as the congestion started to tighten and constrict the streets, people cars, scooters and mopeds all shooting for the same non existent gaps. Somehow everything kept moving with horns blearing and bells ringing from a city alive with the movement of its people. It was a steep learning curve but a fantastic realization emerged when it became apparent the cars would not give you an inch but they are looking out for bikes and will stop at least a few horse hairs before making a mess. With this knowledge it was possible to duck and dart, weave and wiggle, slide and slip my way through the hoards out in the festive atmosphere of a saturday night. Through the heart of Paris I cruised the high end shopping districts before taking in the city lights crossing the canal. It all climaxed when I entered the gritty sculpture gardens outside the Louve and headed straight for the spectacular Arc De Triomphe at the other end of the Avenue Des Champs Elysees. The cars where out en mass and the painted road markings where simply adding to the art nouveau style of the area, not the systematic organisation of cars on a road. It was amazing to be swept up in the people and lights and not become a bug on the grill at the same time. Needless to say I did not venture into the round about but I stood on the corner a long time contemplating the prospect.

Brussels

Meeting some more touring bikers at the camp ground I had a needed day off before pushing the two big days towards the coast and the ferry ride to England's Newhaven port. The idea of sleeping in a bed in a warm house got me through the long day arriving at East Ginstead just after 2 am with my little lights leading the way. England was interesting, off the boat and into the familiar rhythm of spinning my wheels I was struck by a feeling of sorrow that the trip was nearing its end. It was deep in the bottom of my gut, the unshakable feeling that I had come upon the destination of the journey, that soon the fun of being on the road and meeting new friends and seeing sights would be over and real life could take over once again. These thoughts were soon enough eclipsed by the even more disconcerting feeling of biking on the left had side of the road. Thank goodness for light early morning traffic for I may well have been a pancake on the road given the amount of times I ended up on the wrong side of the road out of a habit built up over 7 months.

Found Ya

Arriving at Siobhan's, a friend of a decade and meeting her adorable young daughter was justification enough for the early morning push and it was a sad departure this morning on my way to London. Yay for Jd and coke, m'n'ms, ice age 3 and black eyes.

Excellent Bunji jumping platform

It was supposed to be uneventful, slipping into London under the radar and meeting up with a couple of friends, but then when has Doris ever let me get away with that. 18402 km's wear and tear had finally come to a head and I could no longer put pressure on the peddles without the chain slipping. I had the good fortune of making my way to a brand new cycle and outdoor store that was quiet, fully stocked and had great staff. I explained my issue and what I wanted to do but they suggested I bring it upstairs and get it on the rack for a better look. It was worse than I imagined. I had almost completely worn out the small chain ring on the front to the point where it would no longer grab the chain and drive the bike forward. Hence the slipping.

ET

The de-railer was had it, the jockey wheels almost perfectly round with just small nubs where half centimeter teeth should have been. The chain did not even fit the chain tool, designed to measure stretch because it was like a fat person in a leotard and stretched beyond reasonable lengths. Finally, the brake pads were past worn and the cables could not be removed from the housing for all the grime and scum that had accumulated. The tecs were impressed the bike was even still running in this condition and suggested there was nothing I could have done that I had not already. The bike had worn out all its components.

Now in London, my wallet in feather light but Doris and I are in good health and ready for a couple of days RnR before the next phase of the trip, Australia. So here's me clinking my glass to Europe and the adventure of a life time.

Nelson - Auckland 915 kms (572 miles)
Istanbul - London 17487 kms (10929 Miles)
18402 kms (11501 miles)
27 Countries (NZ, Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania, Serbia, Kosovo, Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Slovenia, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland, Czech Republic, Germany, Lithuania, Lativa, Estonia, Sweden, Danmark, Netherlands, Belgium, France, England)
19 currencies
7 months + 14 days
4 flat tires, broken spokes, cranks, racks, bags, bolts, chains, cogs, cassettes, cables, housing, seat, flag pole, tent pole, Peddle and a bottom bracket. (dont buy a rocky mountain bike)

For every Kiwi who took the effort through the two previous world cups and stayed loyal in 2011!!
This ones for you.

Sooty Old Coal 2 of 2

Wet and wonderful Germany



Its amazing to think back on all the nice people that have given me nice things, let me stay at their houses and generally looked after Doris and I. So much so that I have almost come to expect the best of people and when it does not happen it seems to come as such a shock. Crossing northern Germany I was thwarted by a canal or two. Mostly large ribbons of ocean snaking their way through the very low lying inland areas and fairly easy to work out where the crossings were. One such ferry crossing happened on a rather shitty day. There was some anger in the sky and the rain fell incessantly all through the morning and into the afternoon. The wind drove the soaking rain into my face and never was there a let up throught the struggle to make the kilometers I wanted.



Oh Doris



I waited momentarily for the crossing on the deck of the barge and even took the time to give the old girl a once over and fix something to eat. As I was at the front the two cars and two trucks that made up the front row watched me go about my tinkering. The boat got underway and out of the relatively sheltered cove bay and into the main channel the wind began to tear across the deck reducing visibility and causing me to hunker down behind the leading wall at the bow. As the wind increased the waves that shook the hull sent frozen spray over the wall, over my head and saturated the cars. Still they watched. I thought I could ask to sit in one of the cars but I also thought I would wait and see if one of them asks me to come and join them. Alas there was no luck in this ploy so while the warm drivers of their vehicles continued to watch, the wind and waves soaked Doris and I sending a might chill all the way through to the very bones holding it all together.

Here moosey moosey moosey

People are quick to come and start a conversation with me when I am standing outside a petrol station or a supermarket and the other day as I was doing just that when a man sturck up a conversation about cycle touring. We were chatting about some trivial things like the start of the second world war and the fall of the soviet union when a land dismounted her bike came over with purpose put what looked like donald trumps hair piece in my hand and said "warm in winter cold in summer, have a good trip"?? It wasn't until the man joked that I should not put it on my head that I realised it was a bike seat cover made from sheeps wool.

Furry Wet seat

So here is some of the new plans that are zipping around that little head of mine. It seems that there are changes in the air. It has come about through no real fault of my own that the original idea to get work in Scotland has fallen through and failing any really good reason to stay in the Uk I have decided to continue the bike ride. Given that the very lose original plan was to complete the ride after 6 months and 6000km in the Czech Replubic I see no reason why adding another 2 months to the extra 1 already taken care of to this point couldn't be a good idea. So here is what will happen. In a few days I will reach London where I plan on staying for a few days

The cat wanted to Ride The doris

. I will move from there with Doris (assuming nothing else breaks with her) to Perth, Australia where I will take on the Snakes, Spiders and tree less heat of the plains across to Melbourne where I shall take another jet to the land of milk and honey, landing in Christchurch and make my way to the greastest place on earth. That of course would be Te anau and the gateway to Doubtful sound before taking my leave and heading to the winding, hilly, stunningly brilliant vistas of the westcoast road heading north to Nelson where I shall finish 9 months after starting in the exact same place. I have been accepted to the Nursing Degree Programme at the Nelsom Marlbrough Institute of Technology and thus will be getting home for the start of Feburary.

Very Dutch

 I will be writing a summary of my European adventure upon getting to London so until then keep your toes warm and your tires pumped up and think of me as you are having a nice cold beer in the sun. Unless you are reading this from europe where you will be inside as it is cold as balls outside.

Sooty Old Coal 1 of 2

Riga by night

As I have been pushing my way through the festive streets of Northern Europe I have been thinking about ginger christmas cookies, trees with lights, presents and that sort of carry on. A thought came to mind about the preverbal lump of coal that should one day find its way into a persons stocking. Firstly you would be excited, 'oh, a lump of coal'!! 'I can light it up when the temperature turns chilly outside and warm the house for my friends and loved ones' Then as you turn the carbon brick over in your hands and realise there is a sooty black residue everywhere and accompanied by a nasty smell and acrid smoke as you light it up you think, this isn't that great, infact its not nice at all.

Bay Of Riga

Using this line of thinking I might well be putting Doris in the stocking of a person whom I despise. "oh my goodness, how wonderful, a bike" Somewhat shiny and looking the part the recipient would jump on and feel the wind in their hair until suddenly and for no good reason Doris would become a lump of coal. She would tear, creek, snap, break, bend, buckle and all because you were using her as directed...ish.



Baltic Sea. North of Riga



So there I was out of the saddle and getting myself and Doris with all her winter weight up a small undulation in Sweden that felt like mt Everest after the flatness of the baltics when without warning my right foot gave way and I very closely gave up having children on my top bar. A quick glance behind and I saw the peddle on the ground and initially I thought I must not have tightened it properly when they were replaced a week or so ago. However it did not take me long to realise that I had broken the crank in half, an injury that is neither common or try as I might, fixable in the field. So I walked, scooted and glided the 10km in the pitch black into the next small town where I set up camp and made my way to the bike shop in the morning. Not opening until 12pm I was sitting outside when some old ladies convinced me to move into the small mall where I would be out of the negative temperatures. As I sat there making a hat or two I was inundated with visitors one of which called me crazy and invited me to the soup kitchen right before her partner dropped beer all over my bread. They of course were the local homeless and nutty as a fruit bar and indeed calling me crazy. I left this featureless corridor to the supermarket as they are always good for warming to toes when I was approached by an aging lady of slim build and a healthy demenor. I explainied my problem and you wouldn't have guessed it but she was selling her brand new crank set which we found out later fit my bike less than perfectly but fit none the less. The bike mechanic only had the tools to do the job as this lady, Susan had wanted her crank replaced last season and thus he ordered and used them for the same reason twice.

Baltic Sea

Making my way out of Sweden and into Danmark I was simply shocked at the treatment cyclists get there. There are lanes and lights everywhere and get this, the drivers actually look for bikes when they make turns. It helps that there are almost as many cyclists at a given intersection as there are cars so I suppose a strength in numbers is assumed. In Danmark you just choose the direction you wish to travel and there will be a cycle path along that route. Too easy.

Fancy that. Fixing Diris in the cold

Currently I am in Holland having made my way through the north of Germany, Danmark and Sweden. Joy and I crossed to Stockholme from Tallin having ridden the Baltic Coast through Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia of copurse coming all the way through Poland. A big shout out to Joy all the Way from New York City who was with me for just over 5 weeks and amassed almost 3000km in that time. Pretty awesome for a big city gal. Thanks Joy and thanks for the post you put up last week.

Read on the next blog to see what the plan is from here. I have also posted the photos that Joy added with her post.