I continued my ploy to free camp each night and found some great sites tucked away in the forests. I also utilized some of the designated rest areas for camping, but found that pesky Jehovah Witness folk would prowl around these sites pushing reading material down my throat and wasting my time.
As I rode down the coast I was frequently joined by elderly men on their morning ride. We would begin to chat whilst riding, and they would often extend their trips if we were enjoying each others company. I was amazed by the strength of some of these men, and they relished the opportunity to test my own strength by pushing me hard up hills. A glint in their eye became all too familiar before we would approach a hill and the race would begin. I enjoyed these little games.
To my surprise the country became intensively hilly north of Sydney. I followed the 'old' pacific highway through winding, twisting hills beneath a bird filled tree canopy. The road held almost zero traffic besides the occasional motorbike screaming past.
I was in a hurry to reach the northern suburb of Curl Curl in order to catch up with a good friend Tara that night. I underestimated both the distance and the hills and found myself crippled by a 180km ride in searing heat.
When I finally arrived in the beautiful coastal town of Curl Curl I was in a state of desperate exhaustion. I tried to pull myself together when meeting Tara's family, but my words were jumbled and my handshake was weak. I didn't have the heart to tell them that this day had been one of my hardest to date, after all, how could I be tired now after cycling many thousands of km's? However their house was located on a hill looking out over the ocean, and I soon forgot my worries over a beer, a bbq, and some great conversation in the warm evening air. Tara took me out to a pub where we met some of her friends for a drink and some socializing. I'm quite sure they took me for a mentally disabled patient as I couldn't string more then a few words together. It seemed a veil of fatigue was constricting my brain.
I was offered a comfortable bed to sleep in and a bowl of cereal for breakfast - the ideal start to a tough day of riding through Australia's busiest city.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank Tara and her family for their hospitality and friendship during my time in Curl Curl. Their relaxed, positive nature helped me along and for this I am thankful.
Although the roads into Sydney were pumping with early morning traffic, I quite enjoyed my ride through inner city Sydney. It was with pleasure that I crossed the famous Sydney Harbor Bridge and I journeyed up through the busy CBD. Sadly the weather had once more turned sour and I spent the day sweating profusely under my sticky rain jacket. It was a better alternative than freezing in the cold rain.
Suddenly I was lost. Very lost. By law I couldn't ride along the freeways, and I didn't have a map of the Sydney cycle ways. This was a costly mistake. So I plotted a route that zig-zaged across the map in a most unfortunate westerly direction. I would have to head west until I was clear of suburbia, and then resume a south-easterly until I was back on the coast. Bummer. For this reason I spent a most miserable night camped under the drizzling sky in a playground park in the middle of a very rough suburb. Goodnight Sydney, you may have dampened my tent, but my spirit remains resilient!
Happy in the Drizzle
Sydney Harbor Bridge
Eastern Rosella
No comments:
Post a Comment