Wheely Good Day/Wheely Bad Day

It would be tediously dull (yes, even more tediously dull than this) were we to describe exactly where we went (look at the map on the previous post), when we went there(beginning of March till end of April) and what we did (cycled lots). But, to give a brief insight into the tough daily grind of 9 till 5 life on the bikes, we've condensed the 2 months into one good day and one bad day.

GOOD DAY











7.15am - Awake feeling healthy and refreshed, spring out of bed on good, strong legs. Open the curtains and watch Hectors dolphins frollicking in the surf.

7.30am - Breakfast - dine on liberal helpings of porridge, buttered and jammy toast, fried eeeeeeegs, sticky buns, steak pies and steaming mugs of tea.

8.30am - Pack pannier bags - a place for everything and everything nicely in its place.


9.00am - Hit the road - cruise downhill in the wam morning sunshine, a gentle wind on our backs. Soak up the beautiful alpine scenery - snow dusted peaks surrounding glacial streams rushing into idyllic, shimmering turquoise lakes.









10.00am - Morning pee - hugely enjoyable roadside pee with gorgeous 360 degree panoramas and blissful silence (bar the sound of happily gushing pee).










10.30am - Stuff our necks with massive ice-creams, chocolate and fruit cake at one of the many exotic,palm-fringed, golden sanded beaches we happen upon.










11.00am - Take a stroll on a big glacier. Explore ice caves, stacks, crevices and moulins

11.30am - Back on the bikes - cycle through cool verdant rainforests, alive with an abundancy of diverse, indigenous flora and fauna and echoing sweetly with melodious birdsong.

1200hrs - Lunch - Pull over at a perfectly located picnic table offering fine views over a bush-fringed, reflective lake. Sausage sarneys, salmon tails, crisps, nuts, chocolate cake and coffee.


1300hrs - Back in the saddle - drift along at one with the bike and the beautiful surroundings. Plenty time for deep thoughtful introspection and the pondering of lifes great unanswerable questions such as, "is a horse with two heads the same as two horses with one body?"

1301hrs - Stop at a local dairy farm to lend a hand bringing in the cows for their afternoon milking. While we´re at it, hang around to mow the lawn and bring in the sillage.







































1400hrs - Cycle another few kilometres, alongside beautiful, rugged, windswept coastlines before stopping for ice-cream and a chat with some friendly natives.
















1430hrs - Jump out of a plane at 12,000ft strapped to a crazy Dutchman, enjoying 30 seconds of delirious freefall before drifting serenely down under parachute admiring the jagged snowy mountains and deep blue lakes unflolding below.








1500hrs - High on adrenalin, get back in the saddle and power the remaining few kilometres, passing scenic wetlands teeming with long legged and necked birdlife.










1530hrs - Stop for a snooze in the warm sun amongst a menagerie of autumnal colours

















1600hrs - awaken to find Ive grown a fearsome looking autumnal ginger beard

1700hrs - Arrive at our destination for the night. Enjoy a lovely hot shower. Admire fearsome looking ginger beard in the mirror. I look totally fearsome by the way.







1730hrs - Dinner - Kev on cooking duty. Fush and chups, beer and icecream













1800hrs - kiwi spotting excursion













1830hrs - Visit The House of Pain to take in a super 14 rugby match. Perch contentedly on the terrace supping tins of Speights, eating battered sausages on sticks as the Highlanders take on the Bulls. Laugh heartily at the mock-Scotsman running around in an indecently short mock-kilt waving a large mock-sword.







2000hrs - Pop down to the local beach to watch the cute yellow-eyed penguins waddling comically ashore for the night.
















2030hrs - Soak up the deep crimson, orange and red hues of the evening sun as it gracefully dips below the horizon.


2100hrs - return to our palacial lodgings for varied and interesting chats with a variety of interesting travellers and locals. Sup on tasty local wines and nibble mature cheeses and grapes.

2200hrs - retire, contented to the luxurious environs of the presidential suite.


Bad Day

0715hrs - Don´t awake cos never got to sleep in the first place due to drunken snorers in the dorm. Feel generally grumpy and shitty - blocked nose, sore throat and leaden legs.


0730hrs - Breakfast - out of porridge, toaster broken and no sign of a kettle.Eat dry bread and drink stale water.


0800hrs - Pack pannier bags - realise once fully packed that cycling gloves are missing. Find them at the bottom of the 2nd bag after emptying both.

0830hrs - Re-pack pannier bags.


0900hrs - Hit the road - Slog up the steepest hill in the world (ever) in the cold morning rain into an ever strengthening headwind. Stalagtites of frozen snot form from nostrils. Cloud sitting around ankle level so no views whatsoever except the occassional piece of decomposing roadkill.







1000hrs - Morning pee - rushed roadside pee by a busy main road overlooking a scenic sewage works. Busload of Japanese tourists idle past whilst in full flow. Distracted by the grinning, camera-happy tourists, allow a sandfly (NZ midge) to nibble on my peeing apparatus and inadvertendly step on a festering piece of roadkill in the rush to escape, catching said peeing apparatus in zip in the process (i killed the wee $$$$$$ though)




1030hrs - running low on snacks and no sign of any shops. Eat the sand-encrusted liquorice sweets that´ve been overlooked for the past 7 weeks

1100hrs - Breakdown - puncture, cracked hub, broken spoke and buckled wheel. Shelter from the torrential rain and blustery winds behind a bare, pencil thin tree whilst using our extensive lack of bike maintenance knowledge to make things worse.


1130hrs - Back on the bikes - probably cycling past lots of cool shit if we could only see it through the driving rain and thick mist.

1200hrs - Lunch - Wet and cold with no shelter in sight. Huddle together eating limp cheese sarneys as timber lorries thunder past.





1205hrs - Back on the bike. Cold, miserable and shivering uncontrollably. Dream about steaming bowls of hot soup





1300hrs - Rain becomes even heavier. Still no shelter, push on.



1400hrs - Pull up at a roadside cafe for a much needed hot drink. It´s Tuesday and the cafe is open Wednesday to Monday. Curse loudly. Rain strengthens and turns to sleety snow.



1430hrs - Rain stops briefly. Chain bikes separately to sturdy looking posts and head off for a short, scenic stroll through the rainforest. On our return, key snaps in Jools´padlock. Cycle 100k (OK, it was only 5) to the nearest town, borrow a hacksaw from the local garage and cycle back to liberate the other bike.







1600hrs Rain rain rain,wind wind wind, rain, wind, windy rain, rainy wind, roadkill.





1700hrs - Arrive at our destination for the night. A nothing little motor park in a nothing little town in the middle of nowhere with no facilities except a TV showing nothing but Coronation Street re-runs. Enjoy a cold, wet shower for $2

1730hrs - Jools on cooking duty. Feast on a horrendous sloppy concoction of rice, courgette, onion and mushroom soup slurry

1800hrs - For the 200th evening in a row, forced to put up with each other´s banale chat. As usual, the conversation eventually turns to the subject of jobbies before petering out altogether.

2200hrs - Huddle together for warmth on a dirty, poorly sprung single bed in a rickety, drafty old cabin in the depths of a spooky, deserted sports field on the outskirts of a rural, redneck town. Woken sporadically by bogans (NZ neds) revving their Ford Cortinas nearby.

Smallprint: All incidents portrayed in the above narrative did actually happen (apart from the bits we made up) although not in the same day. I must stress in reality most of our days were spent participating in one of two principal activities - consuming water or passing water.

Cribbage Update: The cribbage set was carried in our pannier bags for the entire two months. We had one game - two days before the bikes were handed back. Jools 24 Kev 20










Jools insisted that we incude this picture.

SHIT-Face

We read in an old Lonely Planet guidebook that Invercargill was rife with "checked shirts and bad haircuts". After carrying out some reasearch of our own, we concluded that there was no more of either than would be considered average. We did however stumble across the Silly Hair International Tournament (SHIT) which when we arrived was accepting entries for the Face section (SHIT-Face)