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.