Australia Blog 10

Firstly, an apology. It has been brought to my attention that I may have caused offence by using Anglo Saxon to describe my buttocks (and the incendiary condition to which they had temporarily progressed) in Blog 9. This coarse lapse has caused distress to parts of Manchester and I worry this contagion may have spread further (even around the globe).

Anyway, I woke slowly and planned to get an early start. As I am busying myself around the tent the Heaven’s opened. I managed to remove the tent pegs quickly and move my small tent under shelter. However my ‘drying’ laundry about 100 metres away got very wet (again) despite my sprinting to recover it. In the shelter I packed things slowly waiting for this sudden and serious downpour to pass. It was early and few Aussies were around (probably still avoiding giving me a drink).

Whilst waiting one of the site cleaners sat with me, also awaiting a cessation. He rides a Harley and commented that he wouldn’t ride it in this weather! He also noted that the Pacific Highway not only provided faster travel up the coast but it was the only link between many of these settlements. It wasn’t possible to access all these small coastal towns any other way. That set my mind at rest that I was pursuing the correct routing option.

When it did stop I left the campsite and found a cafe for a bit of cooked breakfast in Forster. From here to a modern Woolworths for sustenance. Woolies in Oz is a supermarket chain and not the former beloved UK mecca where I bought LP’s and pick n’ mix.

The route to the Pacific Highway revealed the first casualty of the bush fires. You can see the burnt bark on these trees but you’ll also note the new growth. Also all the countryside was greener as I progressed north. This was in stark contrast to the parched and scrubby farmlands of Victoria.

The skies opened and I got very wet again. I got maybe wetter than I need have. I’d taken off my rain jacket between showers as it was too hot to ride in. When the rain started again I was simply in the wrong situation to stop, find the jacket, put it on and proceed. One of the benefits of the rain is a fall in temperature from the late 20°s to the late teens. This made cycling much easier and my average speed was over 13mph. Another implication was the need to drink less water and the restoration of my appetite. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Forster to Port Macquarie – 64 miles & Port Macquarie to Nambucca Heads – 75 miles →

Australia Blog 9

Hawks Nest looked a beautiful spot when I rode in the night before. Slightly cut off on a peninsula but an attractive small community with shops and facilities. All single storey buildings and close to a coastline that was unspoilt and a little wild. This also applied to the other local settlement called Tea Gardens. This looked even more up market with its moorings for boats.

After waking the next morning I strolled to the beach. The sound of the waves crashing last night had been my lullaby. Not that I needed singing to sleep as I was in the ‘Land of Nod’ in next to no time and didn’t wake for over 9 hours. That morning there were few people about and I can imagine living here on retreat.

I packed my tent slowly and then went across the road from the campsite for breakfast. I sat a while writing a blog and then returned to Reception to announce myself and make reparations for last night’s stay. No aggravation or kerfuffle, just a calm catch up on my details, took the money and I was away.

I went onto WikiCamp and left a review:

“Just sublime. Arrived as a cycle toured. Tremendous cook area for sorting out panniers. Terrific pitches. Great cafe opposite the site for breakfast. I may ask to be buried here.”

The long straight minor road north gave me little other than a vista of trees but every once in a while I’d note signs on my right for the beach. This was one such openings and the view was remarkable. Surely Australia (so far) at its most pristine and intoxicating. However I had places to be and and pedalled on to find the road ended abruptly with water and a ferry mooring. The craft was a small one with no distance of a crossing to make. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Hawks Nest to Forster, NSW – 54 miles →

Australia Blog 8

So after the fitful night of worrying about my misplaced passport I awoke to rain. (No change there then). I kicked my heals until Reception opened (7.30am). I strode to the office like a schoolboy approaching a notice board with newly posted exam results. I was anxious and the wrong news would be calamitous.

The new Receptionist caught my anxiety and looked all around the office including within the safe. She found nothing. She then said she’d ring Charlene (honestly this was her name!) It was early but she rationalised that’s as she had a baby then she’d be up. Ring, ring. No, she remembered handing it back to me and in any case had I left it in Reception she’d have come to my pitch with it.

I was crushed. They saw it. One member of staff said she’d check the bins in case the plastic bag containing the passport had been thrown away. Another chap promised to look at the flower beds and around on the grass. The way he shook my hand and the look in his eyes showed a lot of sincerity and empathy at the world of pain and cost I was about to embark on.

I slumped off and rang Anna. I’d not wanted to have her worry but I needed her help to establish what I needed to do to get a travel document. She got down to it.

I cycled back up to the fish and chip restaurant. Surprisingly there was someone in cleaning and preparing for the day. It wasn’t a member of staff from the night before. The place wasn’t open but she let me look around including peering into a bin full of left over chips, cartons etc. There was no record about something being found. I asked if she might ring someone and she refused. It was just that she was a junior helper and didn’t feel she could. She said she’d leave them a message. The shop was to open in a couple of hours and hopefully they’d be in then. I wasn’t encouraged. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Budgewoi to Hawks Nest 84 miles →

Australia Blog 7

I was glad to get back on the road but I’d enjoyed Sydney. Of course I’d hardly got under its skin but what I saw was attractive. Setting off from a hotel means that you can be packed from the night before and so I was on the road not long after 7am.

The exit from the city going north involved crossing the iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge. It was very convenient but in reality the path was closed in to to stop people throwing themselves off it and so netting and barbed wire accompanied me across.

I passed a few cyclists going in the opposite direction. None acknowledged me but ploughed on with steely stares on the road ahead. In fact this was the situation with most Australian fellow cyclists throughout my ride. Anna had asked if I’d come across any other cycle tourers. No, not a soul. I expected as I got up the coast I might come across some bedraggled fellow spirit. I must add that the campsites can be expensive in Australia (about £21/night for a good one) and I wondered whether they might avoid the large sites with lots of amenities and attendant cost. I liked all the facilities and so broke the bank! Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Sydney to Budgewoi, NSW – 63 miles →

Australia Blog 6

Gungarai to Sydney – Bus

About 30 minutes late the bus swung into view and collected me off the deserted streets. The fare was $75 and I was instructed to give the driver another $30 cash for the extra luggage of the bike. He did pose the rhetorical question, as he pocketed the notes, “you don’t want a receipt for that, do you?” No I didn’t.

So this big swish bus returned to the Hume Freeway and ate up the miles to Sydney. The weather was so rainy that the bus had proceeded with prior caution and got to it’s final destination 30 minutes late. I tried to sleep but if I did I dozed an hour at best.

There were a couple of stops beforehand. At the stops the driver had called up the bus exhorting those who’d booked for these stops to wake up (it was early) and go. Not all got the message.

The driver, buried in rush hour traffic a few miles from the centre, received a request from a blurry eyed passenger for “Liverpool”. This stop had been an earlier stop 20 minutes ago. The driver looked straight ahead at the road and just said “Liverpool’s done mate!” The passenger stayed on his haunches next to the driver as if by his presence attempting to appeal to the driver’s better nature to turn round the large bus in this near traffic jam and head back. Obviously he didn’t.

It was 7am. I thought I’d take the bike to the hotel and try and leave it there until my return at the official check in time of 2pm. Before I got through my request the Receptionist said I could check in early ie. now. I was delighted not least because I could extract my wet tent from their bin liners and hang the tent and fly sheet up in the shower cubicle. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Sydney →

Australia Blog 5

Wangaratta to Walla Walla – 64 miles

Walla Walla to Wagga Wagga – 79 miles

Wagga Wagga to Gundagai – 51 miles

After the ride up the motorway to Wangaratta I thought I should abandon this easy and boring route and see something of Australia. So the next morning after following Master Blake’s instruction to take on board some protein I headed north again.

I left the M341 and pointed my chariot at Rutherglen. You may know this name from the red wines we quaff back in Blighty. It was an easy ride with the wind at my back; I started to witness a vista I was about to see for another two days. Large flat fields all rather baked and either containing stubble or odd pockets of sheep or cattle. In fact cattle are the major agricultural activity in this part of Australia. When I cycled past the sheep would scatter frightened. The horses more often stood their ground and peered at me as if I was the most interesting sight they could behold on this dull yet hot day (on this basis I’m not being reincarnated as Dobbin). Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Wangaratta to Gundagai, NSW →

Australia Blog 4

Melbourne to Seymour, Victoria – 73 miles

Seymour to Wangaratta, Victoria – 94 miles

The good news was that through literal exhaustion I cracked the jet lag problem and slept over 9 hours. The bad news was that I overslept and set off north about an hour and a half later than hoped! As it happened being Saturday the Melbourne traffic was reasonable with fewer trucks and vans. In the 22 miles it took me to leave the metropolis I obviously saw more of the city.

Just above the Central Business District the housing is mediocre in architecture (and upkeep). To add to this vista there are many empty unlet shops resplendent with graffiti. My route out of town was via my Garmin 830 Sat Nav. Like the town planners the routing it selects is to avoid cars and trucks wherever possible. This is sensible but tedious.

You are continually steered toward leisure bike trails and the number of crossings and traffic lights are innumerable. When you’re not bouncing up a kerb then you could be stood for 5 minutes at a busy junction whilst the cars filter through. Eventually the housing got more attractive, the neighbourhoods more cared for and the roads wider.

Predictably the road system was now about moving people between cities rather than suburbs. This meant a ring road, flyovers and faster movement. It still wasn’t pleasant but I was delighted when I eventually escaped the ‘stop and start’ and could make some progress. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Melbourne to Wangaratta, Victoria →

(Blog 3 – February 28)

It’s a long way to Melbourne. I feel you may know this fact.

Two ‘back to back’ flights of 7 and then 12.5 hours respectively in Economy, through several times zones, is hard work. The Etihad baggage allowance of 35kg is excellent but it’s split over 23kg in the hold and the 12kg two in the cabin. To my relief I managed to get all I wanted to take into this quota but I did spend literally hours, back in York, weighing things and agonising whether to take it or leave it.

The flights were generally fine (about two hours of turbulence on the second flight, however, prevented any attempt at dropping off to sleep) but on the first flight I had talkative neighbours and on the second flight the art of communication was abruptly curtailed by a chap wearing a face mask and his wife wearing a burka. I learned a lot off the noisy neighbours on the first flight. One was heading to India for four weeks with his family to see relatives and escape the British weather. He regaled me with his wife’s need for a stent to be fitted on one holiday trip to the country of their birth. He talked of the stress of sorting this out at an Indian hospital. The practises and quality are variable. We both agreed how brilliant our NHS was. He’d come to Blackburn 58 years ago as an immigrant and worked for Phillips in the town.

The other chap was heading to Islamabad for two weddings that both lasted six days each. The six days I also surmise, due to religion, were without alcohol. How would you cope? This chap was an entrepreneur and we went through his Sheffield property empire, his former Indian restaurant project and his furniture shop. The chap was very modest but I think he enjoyed a conversation about business. My voicing that he might be viewed, by his Pakistani relatives, as ‘Mr Big’ and worth tapping up for a bob or two led him to quip “oh, I don’t tell them about all that!”

I learned nothing from the guy in the face mask other than the fact that he eventually took it off. In reality the chances of getting coronavirus, if it’s in the air, on a flight are as likely as that of being cooped up on a Japanese cruise liner. You have no chance of avoiding it.

Much to my relief the bike box appeared confirming that my steed had also made it Down Under.

We’ve all seen the Australian Border TV ‘fly on the wall’ series where various unfortunates and miscreants are stopped at Customs for having the wrong visa, importing half a succulent dead lizard or planning to convert an everyday package into its probable street value, as drugs, of c£100k. I was concerned that my oat energy bars might be deemed as dangerous and toxic or specks of mud on the underside of my mudguards would be identified as a bio hazard. Anyway there was no such problems and I proceeded through all the steps of Immigration and was soon sat in a taxi. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Melbourne →

(Blog 2 – February 22)

My bike rides in the USA were such life defining events that still today not a single day goes by without something coming to mind about a person met, a hill climbed or a sight seen. I wanted to have one more epic ride.

Australia offers such an adventure. I’ve never been to Australia but have genuinely loved the country and people from afar. It seemed time to get acquainted.

I booked flights to go in January and even managed to work in some fabulous warm weather bike training in South Africa in November. Even better was that I contacted Louise Sutton at Leeds Beckett University about some proper nutrition for the 40 days away. Louis is a sports nutritionist/practitioner, as well as lecturer, and was interested to help. She set an MSc student, Cameron Blake, on working up a regime. All good? Not quite.

However back to South Africa. On our holiday Anna also cycled, she was having a ball (maybe seeing what my addiction was about). One day after an unbelievably windy stretch, which meant she was working hard, she clambered back onto the bus and looked out of the window. She saw wildlife but the number was doubled. She had double vision. We shortly found out it was Sixth Nerve Palsy and the prognosis was that it would eventually heal but it could be in a few weeks or a few months time. Anna was left to wear glasses with one lens frosted and instructed not drive. In every other respect she was absolutely fine. Obviously I couldn’t leave Anna without a chauffeur and so my plans and flights were cancelled. She described my decision and subsequent demeanour was like living with someone who was grieving!

The present Mrs Ives looking cool in Franschhoek, South Africa about to climb a very steep hill out of the town.

As if by magic on one day in February the nerve started working and the double vision went! The hospital confirmed that all was well on February 13^th and I’m now booked to fly to Melbourne on February 25^th. The University has continued to offer help and I’ve had some brilliant guidance given and explained to me by Cameron. A tremendous boost. I will elaborate on this regime in future blogs as it can help all endurance cyclists. Continue reading Australia Bike Ride – Prologue →

(Blog 1 – February 19)

They say you should never meet your heroes. I’m anxious because Australia is one of mine.

I’ve spent a lifetime enjoying the people, the sports competition, the apparent relaxed lifestyle, their humour, their music and many images of a beautiful country with often stunning scenery. However not least is my gratitude and admiration that so many have fought and died in wars for a freedom and way of life that I enjoy today in Yorkshire.

So what’s the plan? I exit Melbourne on February 28^th and start my bike ride of  2,500 miles to Cairns. I’ll trundle through Sydney and Brisbane before coming to rest quite near the top of the country. That’ll be in early April. I will be riding solo – the Grey Nomad Goes Down Under! – and camping most of the way.

I expect I will find that but also a drifting ship that is slowly but inexorably moving away from Britain and our former Commonwealth. I’ll find a multiplicity of ethnicities, a tilt toward Asia and maybe the USA in its culture, cuisine and language. I’ll find some coastlines to die for and maybe some busy roads nearby that I will have to be careful to avoid dying on.

Continue reading Australia Bike Ride 2020 →

Day 1 & 2  

After spending a lot of money on an American Express credit card (in a previous calendar year) we earned a free flight, providing you paid for one. It seemed too good a deal not to fly far away and maximise the benefit. So we booked the flight in and out of South Africa but no other arrangements until my bride amazed me. This amazement was her desire to do a supported cycle tour around Cape Town. By supported we got given the bikes and a route. Our bags were hauled from one set of lodgings to the next. 

Continue reading South Africa – November 2019 →

August 19, 2019

‘The Grey Nomad Goes Forth‘

When Anna suggested a European jaunt to Vienna in August she thought about amazing cake, enormous history, wide vistas of a beautiful city etc. and I immediately thought I could ride my bike there! In fairness one of my favourite films is The Third Man set in post war Vienna with Orson Welles and I note there is a walking tour of the famous images in the city from that 1949 classic. From Vienna we’re planning to get the train to Bratislava for a day trip. This will be my first visit to Slovakia. (They must be excited, I know).

Continue reading York to Vienna by Bike – 2019 →

August 12, 2019

After a 16 day bike ride, mainly camping, to Vienna I met Anna at Vienna Airport to spend seven days exploring the Austrian capital with a brief day trip to Slovakia. My bike ride is covered under a  separate post, please seek it out.

There really is a lot to like about Vienna and, as I thought, it is one of the most delightful capitals in the world. I’ve been here twice before – once as a teenager with my parents and then in the early 80s I drove here with two pals in a Morris Marina Estate. On the second trip we also took in the Austrian Formula One Grand Prix. Holidays with friends live long in the memory even when, with no little heartbreak, one of them recently died at 59 years old.

Continue reading Vienna (and a short visit to Bratislava) →

When Anna suggested a European jaunt to Vienna in August she thought about amazing cake, enormous history, wide vistas of a beautiful city etc. and I immediately thought I could ride my bike there! In fairness one of my favourite films is ‘The Third Man’ set in post war Vienna with Orson Welles and I note there is a walking tour of the famous images in the city from that 1949 classic. From Vienna we’re planning to get the train to Prague for an overnight stay and then later another train day trip to Bratislava. This will be my first visit to Slovakia. (They must be excited, I know).

It’s only about 900 miles from York. And my plan was hatched via maps being perused and another spreadsheet being created (with the daily mileages, elevations to be climbed and camping stops identified). It’ll take me 17 days of around 60 plus miles a day with a couple of rest days thrown in. This is quite a light schedule for me and I may change the route.

The route is from Zeebrugge (and Belgium) into Luxembourg. This small country does have some rugged hills and after those undulations I’ll be in South Germany. Last year I spent a long time here but further east and well south beneath Munich. I must admit it wasn’t inspiring and in someways for all that Germany is ‘switched on’ and ‘happening’, albeit industrial, then what I saw wasn’t. However this is a different part of the south and one route has a stop at my favourite record store in Stuttgart which would be a highlight before finding the Danube and trundling into Vienna. Germany has some interesting laws, the most worthy being the prohibition of trucks on the roads on Sunday. In fact our 24/7 retail life hasn’t afflicted the Teutons yet. Power to their elbows.

My mission, as I trundle through their land, is to get one person to smile back.

Our Summer has been pants and apart from one freak day it’s been fleeces and umbrellas even into July. I hope I haven’t missed the European heat wave. I am looking forward to something sizzling.

As I set off I’ve amassed nearly 2,000 miles year to date and much of that has been dragging myself up and down the Yorkshire Wolds. I should be in reasonable nick. I post the following snap: I once did a presentation of my expedition across the USA and someone, only half in jest, commented that they never saw a picture of me riding a bike!

Grey Nomad? This phrase apparently is quite common for over 55 independent Australian travellers but it came to my attention from a millennial who’s blog I read about a ride down the east coast of Australia. She was put out that whilst singing along to a bearded pal playing a guitar at an early hour of the morning on a campsite; an elderly  male clambered out of his tent to tell the player to stick the said instrument up a place where the sun wouldn’t shine the next day. I feel I was that man. She named him and others as ‘Grey Nomads’ for this outrage. I shall wear the badge with honour.

The first day sees me depart Acaster Malbis and cycle to the ferry in Hull. (Memo to self: do not be rude about Hull as Steve will be unhappy).

May 25, 2019

A quick trip to Spain for some warmer weather was devised by the present Mrs Ives. How could she resist Northern Spain with Ryanair offering tickets from Newcastle at £28 each? 

Maybe a clue as to whether the airline passengers were cultured and interested in the history of this town of 100,000 was clear when the amount of blue on the vast selection of tattoos was only matched by the paint on the carrier’s fuselage. Another clue came when I noted that the destination airport was called ‘Girona – Costa Brava’. 

Newcastle Airport was awful. The toilets were a health hazard (why?) and there wasn’t a coffee shop open on Saturday night. You could join the well oiled Geordies at one of the bars and ask for a coffee but somehow you’d not be convinced about the quality unless it had a Bailey’s in it. The flight was noisy and badly managed. The safety briefing was inaudible (yet the later announcements on selling booze, food and duty free items were crystal clear). One mother with what appeared several children taken out of school (the following week) was peripatetic up and down to the aisle with the task of taking her flock to the toilet. This caused regular havoc with the trolley as it slowly edged up the plane dispensing refreshments but in effect blocking the aisle. Folk wandered around and squatted in the aisle to talk to friends. This was necessary as Ryanair make you pay extra to sit next to friends and relatives. If you don’t it is random seat allocation. A group of men shouted to each other on the plane as two twins, less than a year old and bewildered not to be in a bed at this late hour, bellowed their lungs out with blood curdling yells. Finally when landing the men sang ‘Wonderwall’ at volume 11?

Continue reading Girona, Spain – May 2019 →