Perth - Geraldton

And so it came to pass that I left the creature-comforts of city living behind to venture further still up the road. It began with a comfortable ride along bike paths that snaked along the coast line on a calm blue-skied day. People were walking, jogging, snorkelling, canoeing and relaxing on the beaches. It was a lively sight, and the commotion stole my attention away from my sluggish legs, who were clearly under the impression that Perth was the end of their undeserved torture.

It was not long before city gave way to housing, housing gave way to farms, and farms gave way to open scrub. Before I knew it my attempt to ride around Aus was back in full swing.

I had been told that Lancelin had "the best pub in Australia" by an untrustworthy source, and living up to the name I like to call my bike trip : 'the 18,000km pub crawl', I felt it imperative to test this bold claim. It was not the best pub in Australia. It had a great beer-garden with amazing views over the ocean, but the people were a little unfriendly, and I was asked to move my bike from where I had placed it (a little in the way so that I could watch over it) and I disliked this interruption. I would have liked to be there on a busy night though. 

Without too much difficulty I climbed the map through Cervantes, Green Head, Leeman, Dongara and Geraldton. The only real point of interest during this time was a nasty run-in with some questionable fruit cake (1.5kg's of it). 

It all started with a great little camp spot I found in a quarry out in the bush. I nestled in early and had a pot of steaming noodles ready in no time. To wash down my mains, I looked to the fruit cake for dessert - and murdered all 1.5kg's of it within minutes. It hurt my stomach a little but this was not uncommon. This was not my first dealing with fruit cake ($4.50 Black & Gold). It began to rain. The sky was black and so I took shelter in my tent. The rain fell heavier. The sound of droplets hitting my tent became hypnotic, I fell asleep. Still the rain came down. Eerie dreams haunted my tired mind. I dreamed of lavish food and shameful feasting. My tent began to leak. I dreamed of eating until my stomach swelled. The rain was pounding. I dreamed I could not contain my food... it was too much... it hurt my stomach... it had to come out... It had to come out now..........
 And so it was that I woke in the pouring rain to a tent full of vomit. My mattress was soaking in it and my sleeping-bag was full. It was night, I was in the middle of no-where, it was raining, I was tired from a hard days ride, and my possessions were covered in vomit. 

The next day was spent lying under a tree in the rain being sick. 

Oh the joys of cycling.  

Perth City - Part 3 (Final)

The last four days of my Perth experience were graced by the company of two special guests... Mum and Dad!
Mum and Dad had taken time from work to fly over to Perth to spend some time with me and see some of the country along the way. For me it was a chance to really relax in the company of loved ones whom I had no need to act polite with. I could just be myself.
The truth is that I was spoilt. We visited great places, ate tasty food and stayed in nice accommodation.
We visited King 's Park for a walk, and although I had already been there, this time it was all about the flora - a subject that mum in particular has a great knowledge.
Mum and Dad had hired a car, and so we spent the next few days driving south towards Margaret River, where I could give some direction in places worth visiting. We visited some friends of my parents for dinner and drinks, we took scenic walks, we visited wineries and I was once again soaked to the bone walking down Busselton jetty. Unfortunately Perth decided to dump some of its worst weather during our short stay. But I felt very very lucky to have a dry area to store my luggage and a roof over my head to sleep warm and dry. Luxuries I was living without.
But eventually all good things must come to an end, and before I knew it, it was time to say goodbye. Mum, Dad myself and Joy had a final dinner in Scarborough before they dropped me back at Joy's house for my last night in Perth.
I was sad to see them leave, and had also managed to stray a little out of shape in my time in the city, which left me feeling uneasy about hitting the road once more.
I would like to thank mum and dad for coming out to spend time with me on my adventure. It meant the world to me and I hope they realise how much I appreciate their effort.
As I peddled off the next morning, I thought about the difficulties lying ahead. The worst was still to come.  

Perth City - Part 2

A few weeks before I entered Perth, at a time when I was soaring down a steep hill in the Margaret River region, I found a fellow cyclist walking his bike in the opposite direction. We stopped to exchange stories and discovered that we were both cycling around Australia. His name was Grant and he wore a particularly warm, friendly smile. After a chat he offered me a room in his house in a beautiful suburb of Perth, called Scarborough. His girlfriend Joy was living there and he was going to warn her that a grubby, smelly boy would turn up on the door-step sometime soon. He also gave me his mothers phone number to call on arrival.
So after my time staying at Kirsten's house, I made my way over to Scarborough to anxiously find the address. I called the phone number that Grant had given me and was invited to visit Grant's mum - also living in the area. She was a lovely lady and insisted that I eat a mountain of her delicious cooking. It was an amazing meal and I was absolutely stuffed full of food. I was then introduced to Joy, and a friend of hers Tim. Joy had an exceptionally bubbly personality, and was instantly welcoming and friendly. Tim was working in the mines (in the Pilbara) and was spending his week off keeping Joy company. He works four weeks on, and one week off. A physically and mentally challenging task. But the stand-out personality trait of Tim was his relaxed nature. Nothing seemed to fuss this enormous kiwi.
The three of us spent the next few days relaxing and took the ANZAC public holiday as an opportunity to visit King's Park and swim in the beautiful beaches. King's Park offered stunning views of the city and was alive with people paying their respects to the Anzac's. The sun was out and I thoroughly enjoyed walking and laughing with Joy and Tim. We even went to a sea-side bar, to order the most expensive pints of beer I had ever paid for (well... Tim paid for), at $12 each.
During my time searching for the correct house a few days prior, I had met a lively French fellow named Harvey. He invited me to join him and his friends to go out on the town that night which I was unable to do as I was meeting Joy that night. However, we exchanged phone numbers and he later called to invite me to a meeting that he was hosting in regards to achieving personal goals. The address was close by, and so I attended, meeting many French people from many walks of life. I cannot pretend that I was not a little nervous walking into a strange building full of people I did not know to express my personal feelings. However, Harvey was as friendly as ever, and I enjoyed leaning about other people and sharing my stories with the group. It was a great evening.
On my last night in Scarborough, which also happened to be Tim's last night in Perth, we headed out for dinner and drinks. I had not partied since Albany, and really loved the opportunity to be a little silly and relax in a busy bar.
It had been a great night out, and I awoke the next morning feeling a little dusty, to prepare for my final stay in Perth.
I would like to take the time here to thank Grant for the opportunity to stay free-of-charge in an amazing house-hold within Perth. Further more, I would like to thank Tim for taking me out drining and also for buying me a pie during my time of need. Last but not least I would like to thank Joy for being so welcoming and a 'joy' (sorry) to be around. I hope that in the future we remain friends and stay in contact. I best not forget to thank Grant's dog Pearl for farting next to me before walking away repetitively.      

Perth City - Part 1

It was only a short, leisurely ride along a great cycling track into the heart of Perth. 

The ride in offered beautiful views of the city over the Swan River, and I instantly liked the city on arrival (unlike Adelaide). I spent some time sitting with my bike and a meal in the heart of a busy street, just to soak up the lively atmosphere. 

I then headed back over the river to meet my friend from home, Kirsten, who is now living in Perth to dedicate her life to destroying this country (as a geologist in the mines).

I had not talked to her in five or so years and it was fantastic to catch up again. She offered me a mattress to sleep on and I was lucky enough to spend three nights with her and Johnno, her house mate. 

We visited the local pub that night for a proper chat, and she even took the next day off work to show me around. It felt amazing to relax and completely forget about the bike left purposely in the backyard.

We did some sight-seeing, took the dog on walks, and even joined in her house mates birthday celebrations with a few beers. A great way to unwind.

On the third night Kirsten had to fly out of Perth, and I was a little sad to say goodbye. She had changed a lot since school, and I had enjoyed the company. I did sneak into her room when she had left to play a few songs on her expensive piano. Ace.

I would like to take this chance to thank Kirsten for her hospitality and friendship throughout my time in Perth. It was much appreciated.  

But now it was time to keep moving, and so I was headed to the coastal suburb of Scarborough to stay with somebody I had never met. I was feeling a little nervous.

Margaret River - Mandurah

From Margaret River the ride into Mandurah (just south of Perth city) was a breeze.
I first rode a short 40km to the tiny coastal town of Yallingup. I had been told many great tales of the beauty of the town, and was keen to drink my bottle of wine on the famed beach. After paying a rather steep camping fee, I was able to set up quickly and relax at a pick nick table overlooking an angry ocean. The waves were battering the rocks with such force that I had no trouble understanding how the elaborate formations had formed. Earlier that day I had visited the 'Canal Rocks', just south of Yallingup, which were utterly spectacular. I will upload pictures of these rocks when I find the chance. A small road sign and a short track were all that advertised this marvel. If such rocks existed in Victoria, I am sure they would become an iconic attraction, scamming tourists of their money - in much the same way the 12 apostles do. But here they sat quietly in W.A, barely noticed by the passing masses. I thoroughly liked this.
So I sat at the table overlooking the ocean and drank my expensive wine from a plastic water bottle cut in half and talked to passing tourists. It was lovely.
The next day I awoke to a tent swaying in the gusty wind. I peered out nervously only to find that the wind was finally playing fair. So I packed up swiftly to cast my sails into the breeze and fly the 130km's towards Perth.
It was a great day in the saddle, spoiled only by a $2.50 fee to walk down the Bussleton jetty in the rain. The jetty was just shy of two km's, and boasted an aquarium view under the water (too expensive for me) and even a train to take you to the end and back. The atmosphere was terrific despite the wet weather.
After the days ride I stopped to sleep at a rest stop beside the main highway, which made for a very noisy camp. A young German couple were also stopped there and invited me to join them for dinner and a chat. They were very friendly and I was happy to be in such good company.
The next day was a fairly easy going 80km's into Mandurah, where I was to meet my friends from Lucky Bay, Ross and Jo. They had invited me to stay at their house and I was thankful for the chance to shower and sleep in a bed once more.
When I arrived in their estate, I was blown away by the scene before me. A Mediterranean style housing estate overlooked a canal system running right to the backyard of each house. Ross and Jo's house was exceptional. They had two boats sitting in the calm waters of the canal, which in itself was alive with crabs, fish and other marine life. Although the estate felt very upmarket, Ross and Jo's house was full of character and had a great homely feel within. I was spoiled rotten with lavish food and terrific company.
The next day Jo drove me into Fremantle to look around and we had some great conversations along the way. Jo is studying psychology, and she offered insightful views to the workings of society. That night I watched as Ross cooked a mean curry (that's right I sat and watched), and we sat up to watch the footy with a few beers. It was nice to have a few beers in front of the T.V, something I had not done for rather a while.
I would like to take the opportunity to thank Ross and Jo for two amazing nights of hospitality and company. I had an unforgettable experience in a town which I would have otherwise passed through without a second thought.
It was now time to hit Perth city.  

Albany - Margaret River

Cycling along the coastal roads from Albany to Margaret River was spectacular. It was almost exclusively national park forests, or at the very least farm land with native vegetation intact. My legs were rejuvenated and I flew through the towering Karri forests (Eucalyptus diversicolor), Jarrah forests (Eucalyptus marginata) and ancient Tingle tree forests (Eucalyptus jacksonii). I stopped in at the tree top walk just near the township of Walpole to admire the enormous old Tingle trees with hollowed out bases from years of fungal and insect attack. The road was perhaps as hilly as I had yet encountered, but my mood was soaring and I relished the climb in order to fly down the other side. I loved waking in the mornings weary-eyed only to be truly wakened by the rushing cold air of a descent bringing water to my eyes. It was invigorating.
Camp spots were only too easy to find throughout this stretch, and I found myself waking to stunning views everyday. I found no need to pay for any accommodation and did not miss the luxuries of everyday life in the slightest. To add to my soaring mood, I was offered at least one beer each day by passing tourists. People were so friendly and I scored food and company to boot.
The tiny towns along the way were full of character, and I spent the time to nose around talking to locals. By this stage my budget had tightened necessarily and so I kept a safe distance from the pubs at all times to ensure the safety of my hard earned money. This decision closed the door to one of my favourite social outlets, but I managed to make friends all the same.
By the time I was nearing Margaret River however, my mood was starting to fall. I was becoming tired of the road and sore from the seat. By the time I entered Augusta I barely looked up to enjoy the scenery. I satisfied my hunger, visited the toilet and I was off.
My plan in Margaret River was to follow the trend and buy a bottle of red wine, find a caravan park, shower and finally relax.
It was still relatively early in the morning as I rode up the driveway of a picturesque winery to pretend I had half a clue about wine. The gentleman offered me some tastings and soon we were deep in conversation. His name was Guy (pronounced 'Gi'), a french man and his wife operating the vineyard for nearly 30 years. He was an avid traveller and took an instant liking to my bike journey. He gave me a discount on the bottle and at the last moment decided to provide me with accommodation in his guest house on the winery. The guest house was exceptional. That night we pulled the cork from several bottles of extremely expensive wine, enjoyed a tasty hot meal (my first hot meal for many moons) and plunged into heavy conversation. Although Guy was a little blunt with his opinions, he was very well educated, and I learned many new things that night.
In the morning I was showered, powered and ready for the next leg into Perth.
That expensive bottle of wine was like buying magic beans, and I had climbed the beanstalk to stand on top of the world again. What luck.

The Albany Rest - Part 2

Agh, here we are again, this time typing from within a small tin shed in the bush - free of insects... well almost...
Now where was I? Oh yes my rest stop in Albany!

 I spent the next day walking around the surrounding bush land, where trails were marked to scenic lookouts from various hills. The sun was out and the views were stunning. I found King Skink's to play with and people to talk to.
My accommodation at the caravan park had been outrageously over-priced, at nearly $40 per night for an un-powered stretch of grass (I only had a tiny tent and a bike!). The prices were inflated for the Easter break. For this reason I decided to stay at the back-packers in Albany which was cheaper and had an actual bed to sleep on... A BED to sleep on... A BED TO SLEEP ON! A real luxury from the confines of my tent and the lumpy quality of my deflated mattress. That night I met many people from many countries. I may have enjoyed the conversations more if they were not all about the apparent lack of money within the back-packing community. Their complaints went on and on and I wondered if they had considered the cost of travel or maybe getting a job?? Some of these characters seemed a little desperate and this made me feel a little uneasy with my expensive possessions on show (computer, camera, GPS etc.). However I had a top bunk in a second story room with beautiful views over the ocean. I was sharing the room with an English computer freak know-it-all, a deadly quiet American, a British gangster and a quirky lively Korean. Everybody got on well and we were all reduced to fits of laughter whilst watching the Korean 'Rey' working-out listening to the Spice Girls. He was just too funny. He had lathered copious quantities of deep-heat onto his skin, and the smell lingered in the air until morning.
That night as I lay staring at the unfamiliar roof, breathing air heavy with deep-heat, listening to the sounds of other people sleeping, I couldn't help but feel a little home-sick for the safety of my tent. Somehow I was missing the earthy smells of the grubby canvas, the quiet of a sleeping forest, the lumps and bumps of my well worn mattress and the confines from which I had wished to escape. Was I becoming a hermit?
So the next night with my bike still at the shop I hurried back to the caravan park to sleep in the 'comfort' of my tent once more. I met Ray and Deb, a couple who worked at the park, whom insisted that I eat dinner with them. Ray and I connected very fast and we both enjoyed a few beers and long hours in conversation. I dedicated the remainder of my time in Albany to resting, cleaning my gear and relaxing with Ray and Deb. Ray cooked me an extraordinary breakfast the morning of my departure, and had me promise to keep in touch. I would like to take this chance to thank Ray for all his generosity, honesty, company and cooking. He was an inspiring character.
It was time once again to move on.

The Albany Rest

And rest I did. 

Albany town was swarming with people for the Easter break. I found myself overwhelmed by masses of holiday makers and locals alike. The restaurants were full, the streets crawled with pedestrians, the roads were thick with noisy angry motorists, and there I stood with my broken bike - bewildered by the sudden life of a town filled to capacity.

I walked to the bike shop to book a re-build for my back wheel. Unfortunately due to the public holidays and the high demand at the shop, it was going to take about five days. But the sky was blue and the town was beautiful so I was happy to put my feet up and take a break from the road. 

The caravan parks were all full, but after a theatrical display of desperation in the office at my last possible chance, I was able to persuade the lady to allow me a small patch of grass next to the emu enclosure - and yes, the emu's kept me awake with the loud, booming drum that seemed to come from deep within their chests.

After I was all set up and organised it was time to hit the town - after all, it was a Friday night and I was parched. I walked the streets for a while, camera in hand to take a few pictures from the jetty. The city lights looked magic from the water. 

But soon I was once again in the pub meeting a group of young folk from Perth. We played a few games of pool, had a few beers and had a memorable night out. We even went into the local 'club', rated the worst club in Australia. I felt very out of place wearing my riding shorts and cleats surrounded by guys in jeans and shirts and girls in fancy dresses. None-the-less I was a force on the dance floor. After all - I had several years of modern dance moves to teach those backward Western Australian's in a very short time. Yes, I played quite the fool. But in the company of my new friends and the comfort of doing normal 24 year-old activities again, I regretted nothing. I walked back to my tent that night satisfied that I had once again been lucky to have met lovey people and enjoy a wild night out. 

          

          -   Due to a heavy load of insect activity on my computer screen obstructing my view as        I sit to write this out in the bush at night, I will continue 'The Albany Rest' when I next have the opportunity.