Sunday, 25 November 2007
Reader instructions
Hi as this blog takes the most recent blog first, go to the menu on the right hand side, just below the photo of me and click on "Job Done"....that's the first blog about the trip. Then just scroll down (and up) the screen for tales of daredoing, bike riding and undulations!!
Saturday, 24 November 2007
Thank you
Just a wee note to say a huge thank you to a few folks. Firstly to my sister and brother-in-law for the use of their Trek 4500 (Dawn says it's her bike, but Davy has used it more than her!), to my aunt Sylvia who suggested a coffee morning and my mum and her friends and other relations of mine who turned up with goodies and handed out gallons of tea and coffee, scones, buns etc.....we rasied £1200 on April 14th 2007.
Thanks to everyone who so generously made a donation to Action Cancer. With Gift Aid we have raised around £7250!! Can you believe it? Your generosity really encouraged me during my long months of training, through some unkind comments about my build (particularly when in cycling gear!) and through some tough days on the bike ride itself.
Thanks to Ballymena Guardian and in particular to Shaun O'Neill who took a real interest in my planned adventure, and ensured continued coverage right through 2007. Without the publicity generated by frequent appearances in the Sport section (who'd have believed it? Me in the Sports section!!) I would not have raised nearly as much as I did. Thanks Shaun.
Thank you to Henck, Sam and Peter whos made our expedition so much more enjoyable than it could otherwise have been. They quickly became part of our group and firm friends. Their level of planning, the accomodation they arranged and food prepared for lunches was just outstanding. Oh. Thanks to the effervescent Dr. Sophie. You're a star.
Thanks to Neil, Shaun, Mary, Aideen, George (first class room mate), Anne, Catherine and Rashida. I couldn't have wished for better cycling companions. Henck commented more than once that he had never seen a group that got on as well, supported one another so well and had as much fun together.
If you've never taken part in a charity challenge just re-read my blog of the trip. Wouldn't you like to have such an experience. Someone once asked, "When is the last time you did something for the first time?"
Now is that time.
Thanks to everyone who so generously made a donation to Action Cancer. With Gift Aid we have raised around £7250!! Can you believe it? Your generosity really encouraged me during my long months of training, through some unkind comments about my build (particularly when in cycling gear!) and through some tough days on the bike ride itself.
Thanks to Ballymena Guardian and in particular to Shaun O'Neill who took a real interest in my planned adventure, and ensured continued coverage right through 2007. Without the publicity generated by frequent appearances in the Sport section (who'd have believed it? Me in the Sports section!!) I would not have raised nearly as much as I did. Thanks Shaun.
Thank you to Henck, Sam and Peter whos made our expedition so much more enjoyable than it could otherwise have been. They quickly became part of our group and firm friends. Their level of planning, the accomodation they arranged and food prepared for lunches was just outstanding. Oh. Thanks to the effervescent Dr. Sophie. You're a star.
Thanks to Neil, Shaun, Mary, Aideen, George (first class room mate), Anne, Catherine and Rashida. I couldn't have wished for better cycling companions. Henck commented more than once that he had never seen a group that got on as well, supported one another so well and had as much fun together.
If you've never taken part in a charity challenge just re-read my blog of the trip. Wouldn't you like to have such an experience. Someone once asked, "When is the last time you did something for the first time?"
Now is that time.
Friday, 23 November 2007
Day 9, 27th October 2007
Cape Town
Another early rise. Another packing of the bag. Another day on the bike ride, except it wasn't just another day.
Today was "it". After breakfast (and there was porridge! Woo) everyone gathered in reception and before you knew it the minivan arrived for everyone except Henck and me. Everyone else was on a half day trip to Cape Point Reserve, home of the Cape of Good Hope (never do a half day tour - I did a full day tour and it was rushed!). Hugs, kisses and best wishes later I was on my own. Henck had had to rush off as his wife was collecting him.
But hey! I was going on a full day tour of my own. Any minute now the tour guide would turn up and I'd be on my way. Minutes passed. Half an hour passed. This guy isn't coming. One hour after I was supposed to be collected I rang the company. "We had to cancel that tour owing to low numbers. Did someone not notify you?"! You'd think that my calling them to see where the tour guide was would have given them some clue that, No! No one had called me on the cancellation front.
So I headed off for a wander. My bags were stored in the secure room in the hotel. In any event I was looking for a bank. Being a Saturday I knew that they would shut around lunchtime. So I headed off in the general direction of the seafront. I say the general direction as I soon got well and truly disorientated (read lost) and found myself underground in the train station, having walked confidently (or so I thought) through a very crowded and very non-white flea market. No one troubled me in any way, but I guess it is a human trait that we feel most comfortable amongst people we readily identify with, and why through lack of integration and understanding that there is so much trouble in our societies amongst differing ethic and religious groupings. Just a thought! Soon enough though I re-emerged into a shopping area, and two cd's later I was on my way to the Waterfront. I did call into that bank, but it was after 12. Too late!
Cape Town has rather trendy street signs pointing to the various tourist spots and really easy to understand once you catch on. A sign pointing behind you doesn't necessarily mean the tourist spot is behind you. It can mean cross the street and turn right and follow the direction from the next sign you come across. Easy! Told you.
Eventually on a very sunny, very hot Saturday I arrived at the V&A Waterfront....Cape Town premier shopping and tourist spot. With Table Mountain as a backdrop they really have it made. Whilst there's lots of tourist paraphanelia around, there are some world class restaurants eg Baia (you need to book early in the day for this seafood specialty restaurant), hotels, normal shops, crafts and a huge mall. You can take a boat trip to Robben Island from here, boat tour of the harbour area or a helicopter ride over the city, or a Huey Ride if you like a bit more adventure.
The remainder of the group were supposed to be at the Waterfront to do some last minute shopping before they left for the airport, but try as I might, I couldn't see any of them. So I decided to head for a spot to eat. Who did I bump into but Dr. Sophie and Henck, heading for a 99! They had ran late on the Cape of Good Hope trip and the rest of the crew were busying themselves in the shops.
Henck assisted with my "Ballymena Guardian" shot, and we sauntered back through the masses with our 99's and over to the parking lot where Sam and his minivan were waiting.
It was strange saying goodbye to everyone, and watching them drive away, heading for Cape Town Internation Airport. The bike ride was well and truly over. I was no longer a cyclist making good on the thousands of pounds people had so generously donated. I was demoted to the rank of tourist. Just one of thousands in this magnificent city.
Another early rise. Another packing of the bag. Another day on the bike ride, except it wasn't just another day.
Today was "it". After breakfast (and there was porridge! Woo) everyone gathered in reception and before you knew it the minivan arrived for everyone except Henck and me. Everyone else was on a half day trip to Cape Point Reserve, home of the Cape of Good Hope (never do a half day tour - I did a full day tour and it was rushed!). Hugs, kisses and best wishes later I was on my own. Henck had had to rush off as his wife was collecting him.
But hey! I was going on a full day tour of my own. Any minute now the tour guide would turn up and I'd be on my way. Minutes passed. Half an hour passed. This guy isn't coming. One hour after I was supposed to be collected I rang the company. "We had to cancel that tour owing to low numbers. Did someone not notify you?"! You'd think that my calling them to see where the tour guide was would have given them some clue that, No! No one had called me on the cancellation front.
So I headed off for a wander. My bags were stored in the secure room in the hotel. In any event I was looking for a bank. Being a Saturday I knew that they would shut around lunchtime. So I headed off in the general direction of the seafront. I say the general direction as I soon got well and truly disorientated (read lost) and found myself underground in the train station, having walked confidently (or so I thought) through a very crowded and very non-white flea market. No one troubled me in any way, but I guess it is a human trait that we feel most comfortable amongst people we readily identify with, and why through lack of integration and understanding that there is so much trouble in our societies amongst differing ethic and religious groupings. Just a thought! Soon enough though I re-emerged into a shopping area, and two cd's later I was on my way to the Waterfront. I did call into that bank, but it was after 12. Too late!
Cape Town has rather trendy street signs pointing to the various tourist spots and really easy to understand once you catch on. A sign pointing behind you doesn't necessarily mean the tourist spot is behind you. It can mean cross the street and turn right and follow the direction from the next sign you come across. Easy! Told you.
Eventually on a very sunny, very hot Saturday I arrived at the V&A Waterfront....Cape Town premier shopping and tourist spot. With Table Mountain as a backdrop they really have it made. Whilst there's lots of tourist paraphanelia around, there are some world class restaurants eg Baia (you need to book early in the day for this seafood specialty restaurant), hotels, normal shops, crafts and a huge mall. You can take a boat trip to Robben Island from here, boat tour of the harbour area or a helicopter ride over the city, or a Huey Ride if you like a bit more adventure.
The remainder of the group were supposed to be at the Waterfront to do some last minute shopping before they left for the airport, but try as I might, I couldn't see any of them. So I decided to head for a spot to eat. Who did I bump into but Dr. Sophie and Henck, heading for a 99! They had ran late on the Cape of Good Hope trip and the rest of the crew were busying themselves in the shops.
Henck assisted with my "Ballymena Guardian" shot, and we sauntered back through the masses with our 99's and over to the parking lot where Sam and his minivan were waiting.
It was strange saying goodbye to everyone, and watching them drive away, heading for Cape Town Internation Airport. The bike ride was well and truly over. I was no longer a cyclist making good on the thousands of pounds people had so generously donated. I was demoted to the rank of tourist. Just one of thousands in this magnificent city.
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Day 8, October 26th 2007
Wilderness to Cape Town
lots of kilometres (in a minivan!) - all tar roads
The group had collectively agreed it would be good idea to leave as early as possible to fit in with Henck's suggestion of some whale watching in Errrmawnnoos (Hermanus to you and me!! Sorry Henck) and head up Table Mountain (it was as exciting and awesome as it sounds) in the same day. It was a long drive to Cape Town.
So the alarm clock went off an hour earlier today! At home when you're in the humdrum of life getting up early is such a chore (if you're me!). On holiday, albeit after a five day bike ride, when the sun is beating in through the curtains and the birds are going at it for all their worth, it just seems so much easier.
I think everyone found it strange not to be standing around in their cycling gear, ready for warm up exercises and a briefing as to the day's route. Something definitely was missing. A few of the group seemed delighted to be free of their two wheel friends. As for me, I was sad not to be getting on my bike, enjoying the scenery, the fresh air and the group craic.
At 6.10am we were on the road, heading out of Wilderness and up along the coast road. Now Australia boasts of their Great Ocean Road in Victoria. And man do they market it. It doesn't have a look in to the road out of Wildnerness or for that matter the coast road right along this stretch of SA. The road twists around the rugged coastline, clinging to the cliffs affording you panoramic views of the coastline bathed as it was in the early morning sunshine. Just wonderful.
We drove for miles and miles (sorry, I've lapsed into good old UK speak). Thank goodness for air con as it was pretty hot out. We stopped for breakfast in Funnydutchberg (it had a berg at the end of it! And it was Dutch! What do you want from me? I'm not Bill Bryson, you know.) at a garage! Maybe we were hungry. Maybe the food actually was good. But it was really tasty. I went to pay for my breakfast and was told it was over R700! Suddenly realising that was the entire bill for 11 people I shuffled back to my table. Breakfast was apparently part of the package. Either that or Henck treated us.
Onwards we drove through the Overberg (pronounced Offerbergh - you have to pronounce the 'gh' in the same way as in Lough). Imagine a really long road, with fields stretching out eithe side of you as far as the eye can see (before the mountains take over in any event) and as far in front and behind as you can see. Then imagine these fields full of canola, corn, wheat etc. That's the Overberg. I've never seen anything like it. Combine harvesters in the middle of one of the fields looked like a child's toy from the road. An amazing sight.
The sad thing is that farm workers earn on average R600 per month, and there's 13 Rand to the pound £ at the minute! They earn when they work. When planting and harvest isn't on there's no work, and no pay. Oh! There's no Income Support or the wealth of other incentives not to work that we have in the UK. You're on your own in SA.
Eventually we arrived in the seaside town of Hermanus. Full on sun. Blue sky. Whales in the sea close to shore. Pretty town. Just what the doctor ordered. We had a beautiful lunch in a restaurant, part of which was in a cave! right on the sea shore. Our table afforded a view of a baby whale (small bus) thumping its tail repeatedly on the water whilst mother glided gracefully along. The adult southern right whales are just huge. You could stand and watch these gracefull peaceful creatures all day. It's so relaxing.
However the life of a tourist demands a tight eye on the watch. Everyone back on board we set off for Cape Town. My shoes were lying on the floor and my socks attempting to dry out. Henck thought it a good idea to get back on the rocks close to the sea to view a couple of whales heading close to land. Good idea on the way out. On our return the tide was really coming in, and split second timing was required to get from one rocky outcrop to the one nearest to land. Well I didn't quite manage it, concerned as I was not to drop my camera in the water or bash it against the rocks!
Hours later we arrived in Cape Town. From a distance Table Mountain has an unfamiliar look. We arrived from the south and came in past the airport and more depressingly (as ignorant tourists who haven't actually visited the townships feel initally) past the many townships. Khayalitsha, Langa, Joe Slovo, Athlone. Just four of the sprawling settlements to which the black were consigned during the evil reign of apartheid. Khayalitsha were I visited on the Sunday has a population of 1.5 million - the same as Northern Ireland!
Then it was up the narrow steep streets leading to the foot of Table Mountain. Our rotating circular cable car took up to the top of the mountain. Cloud was racing in around the Lion's Head and the base of the mountain, but at the top we had clear blue sky. The back and sides of the mountain had a thick skirting of cloud - a view similar to that out of your plane at 37,000 feet. Just magical. There was no cloud over Cape Town. Apparently the heat of the city burns off the cloud. As you may know, when the cloud sits on top of Table Mountain it's known at the Table Cloth. Tourist photos taken it was back down again and off to our accomodation for the night.
Our hotel, the Fountain Hotel was just across from the main bus station, a fact drummed into us by Sam on the safety briefing. Tourist tend to leave their brains at home when on holiday, and he reminded us to be very wary.
George and I were assigned our key, and we headed up to room 1010. Well. What awaited us was like nothing I've ever seen or stayed in before. I'll upload a picture for you to see the inside of the living/kitchen area. And. And we had a view of Table Mountain. Ding dong. We just couldn't believe it.
Showered, shaved and aftershaved it was off to dinner. Mama Africa's was overbooked so Henck had arranged dinner at the Gold Museum. What a prize that turned out to be. We were shown into a courtyard where chairs and small tables were set out in two rows. At least that's what Shaun and myself had thought. No!
We were in for a spot of djembe training. African drums! Do correct me if they're called something other than djembe drums. My memory can't hold all the details!! Our teacher taught us three rhythms. He then played a melody and shouted 1, 2 or 3 and we assisted...with our 1, 2 or 3 rhythm and shouting. Great fun. One of those experiences were you're tempted to rush straight out and buy a drum!
Dinner was in the form of a continuous flow of small bowls of food from different parts of Africa. This was interspersed with dramatised stories including giant (papier mache?) characters, with music and typically vibrant enthusiastic African singing. There was a wonderful surprise for Henck! Sam and Peter had arranged for Henck's wife to come along!
After dinner Henck had a word for each member of the group and handed out a print of the photograph taken by Sam as we finished the bike ride at the Ebb and Flow chalets in Wilderness.
lots of kilometres (in a minivan!) - all tar roads
The group had collectively agreed it would be good idea to leave as early as possible to fit in with Henck's suggestion of some whale watching in Errrmawnnoos (Hermanus to you and me!! Sorry Henck) and head up Table Mountain (it was as exciting and awesome as it sounds) in the same day. It was a long drive to Cape Town.
So the alarm clock went off an hour earlier today! At home when you're in the humdrum of life getting up early is such a chore (if you're me!). On holiday, albeit after a five day bike ride, when the sun is beating in through the curtains and the birds are going at it for all their worth, it just seems so much easier.
I think everyone found it strange not to be standing around in their cycling gear, ready for warm up exercises and a briefing as to the day's route. Something definitely was missing. A few of the group seemed delighted to be free of their two wheel friends. As for me, I was sad not to be getting on my bike, enjoying the scenery, the fresh air and the group craic.
At 6.10am we were on the road, heading out of Wilderness and up along the coast road. Now Australia boasts of their Great Ocean Road in Victoria. And man do they market it. It doesn't have a look in to the road out of Wildnerness or for that matter the coast road right along this stretch of SA. The road twists around the rugged coastline, clinging to the cliffs affording you panoramic views of the coastline bathed as it was in the early morning sunshine. Just wonderful.
We drove for miles and miles (sorry, I've lapsed into good old UK speak). Thank goodness for air con as it was pretty hot out. We stopped for breakfast in Funnydutchberg (it had a berg at the end of it! And it was Dutch! What do you want from me? I'm not Bill Bryson, you know.) at a garage! Maybe we were hungry. Maybe the food actually was good. But it was really tasty. I went to pay for my breakfast and was told it was over R700! Suddenly realising that was the entire bill for 11 people I shuffled back to my table. Breakfast was apparently part of the package. Either that or Henck treated us.
Onwards we drove through the Overberg (pronounced Offerbergh - you have to pronounce the 'gh' in the same way as in Lough). Imagine a really long road, with fields stretching out eithe side of you as far as the eye can see (before the mountains take over in any event) and as far in front and behind as you can see. Then imagine these fields full of canola, corn, wheat etc. That's the Overberg. I've never seen anything like it. Combine harvesters in the middle of one of the fields looked like a child's toy from the road. An amazing sight.
The sad thing is that farm workers earn on average R600 per month, and there's 13 Rand to the pound £ at the minute! They earn when they work. When planting and harvest isn't on there's no work, and no pay. Oh! There's no Income Support or the wealth of other incentives not to work that we have in the UK. You're on your own in SA.
Eventually we arrived in the seaside town of Hermanus. Full on sun. Blue sky. Whales in the sea close to shore. Pretty town. Just what the doctor ordered. We had a beautiful lunch in a restaurant, part of which was in a cave! right on the sea shore. Our table afforded a view of a baby whale (small bus) thumping its tail repeatedly on the water whilst mother glided gracefully along. The adult southern right whales are just huge. You could stand and watch these gracefull peaceful creatures all day. It's so relaxing.
However the life of a tourist demands a tight eye on the watch. Everyone back on board we set off for Cape Town. My shoes were lying on the floor and my socks attempting to dry out. Henck thought it a good idea to get back on the rocks close to the sea to view a couple of whales heading close to land. Good idea on the way out. On our return the tide was really coming in, and split second timing was required to get from one rocky outcrop to the one nearest to land. Well I didn't quite manage it, concerned as I was not to drop my camera in the water or bash it against the rocks!
Hours later we arrived in Cape Town. From a distance Table Mountain has an unfamiliar look. We arrived from the south and came in past the airport and more depressingly (as ignorant tourists who haven't actually visited the townships feel initally) past the many townships. Khayalitsha, Langa, Joe Slovo, Athlone. Just four of the sprawling settlements to which the black were consigned during the evil reign of apartheid. Khayalitsha were I visited on the Sunday has a population of 1.5 million - the same as Northern Ireland!
Then it was up the narrow steep streets leading to the foot of Table Mountain. Our rotating circular cable car took up to the top of the mountain. Cloud was racing in around the Lion's Head and the base of the mountain, but at the top we had clear blue sky. The back and sides of the mountain had a thick skirting of cloud - a view similar to that out of your plane at 37,000 feet. Just magical. There was no cloud over Cape Town. Apparently the heat of the city burns off the cloud. As you may know, when the cloud sits on top of Table Mountain it's known at the Table Cloth. Tourist photos taken it was back down again and off to our accomodation for the night.
Our hotel, the Fountain Hotel was just across from the main bus station, a fact drummed into us by Sam on the safety briefing. Tourist tend to leave their brains at home when on holiday, and he reminded us to be very wary.
George and I were assigned our key, and we headed up to room 1010. Well. What awaited us was like nothing I've ever seen or stayed in before. I'll upload a picture for you to see the inside of the living/kitchen area. And. And we had a view of Table Mountain. Ding dong. We just couldn't believe it.
Showered, shaved and aftershaved it was off to dinner. Mama Africa's was overbooked so Henck had arranged dinner at the Gold Museum. What a prize that turned out to be. We were shown into a courtyard where chairs and small tables were set out in two rows. At least that's what Shaun and myself had thought. No!
We were in for a spot of djembe training. African drums! Do correct me if they're called something other than djembe drums. My memory can't hold all the details!! Our teacher taught us three rhythms. He then played a melody and shouted 1, 2 or 3 and we assisted...with our 1, 2 or 3 rhythm and shouting. Great fun. One of those experiences were you're tempted to rush straight out and buy a drum!
Dinner was in the form of a continuous flow of small bowls of food from different parts of Africa. This was interspersed with dramatised stories including giant (papier mache?) characters, with music and typically vibrant enthusiastic African singing. There was a wonderful surprise for Henck! Sam and Peter had arranged for Henck's wife to come along!
After dinner Henck had a word for each member of the group and handed out a print of the photograph taken by Sam as we finished the bike ride at the Ebb and Flow chalets in Wilderness.
Monday, 19 November 2007
Day 7, October 25th 2007
Knynsa to Wilderness
57km (37km tarmac, 20km dirt/unsealed)
There was an air of euphoria this morning with everyone realising aloud that "this is it". Bikes were unloaded from Peter's trailer and wheels pointed forwards from the sideways storage position. Sam's trailer was loaded with the luggage. Henck decided that we should do our warm up exercises, in the middle of the public car park! Bless him. You could almost feel the envy from the tour bus "cattle" as they gazed longingly at our bicycles, dreaming of the freedom to go at their own pace along tourist free country roads, instead of being herded from one tourist trap to the next.
A photoshoot was on the cards at the lagoon, and we rode off to the end of the road from the Ashmead Resort where we had stayed the night before and onto the lagoon edge path. An Action Cancer t-shirt clad photo at the end of a boardwalk was set up and duly logged. We continued on our way past a few boatyards and some nice white folks out power walking or what seemed like attempted jogging. Funny how the local black population were somewhat more preoccupied with working and daily survival!
Maybe we're stopping at the car park where Sam had dropped us off the night before for dinner? Nope! We continued on to the main road out of town. It was a beautiful sunny morning and riding alongside the lagoon was just brilliant. That we were inches away from the traffic on our right hand side didn't matter. Just before the hill out of town we stopped and our trusty steads loaded onto Peter's trailer....and off to Ruigtevlei (Ruich-teff-lie).
It had been originally planned for us to get a steam train to this isolated halt, but thanks to heavy rains and a landslide that option was taken away from us. You'll never guess what awaited us? Yes. An undulation. To be honest we were climbing up into the forests, and would be riding along the Seven Passes (Pawwwwses - for Henck!!!) Road. Once again the scenery didn't disappoint and yet again the joy of riding a bike allowed you to just freewheel and take in the views and the glorious sunshine.
A water and nibble stop was arranged at a drif (ford) just before quite a long and persistent climb. Long hours on the Tullymore Road, Glen Braes Road, Carnalbanagh etc paid off as I steadily made my ascent in pretty hot conditions. Sam was never too far in front, yet, as we came to tease him, just as you got close to him and his van, he would take off. Almost teasing you that maybe next time you would get to stop and rest.
If you were paying close attention earlier you'll recall the complaint that we were riding too fast. Well today was no exception and we reached the tar road in record time. So a cunning plan was hatched.....a nature trail. Peter led us into the bush (fynbos) for a nature study. Not a naturalist study. Please! Do pay attention.
However he could only delay us so long. The tar road furnished us speedsters with more opportunities to tuck down into the handlebars and let rip. Sun in your face, and the wind in your hair (ahem!)...life was indeed good. As I said before though for every downhill....an uphill was waiting. Henck came up alongside me and we "chewed up the miles" at a steady 20mph. We were feeling pretty good with our cycling until we were passed by a fetching young lady on a road bike. Man, Henck was all for cycling hard and catching up with her. Ego thing!
I realised the ego massage that would provide, but if we failed to catch up (and remember she could well have just started her bike ride for the day) then we would crash and burn in glorious fashion. Henck conceded the point, albeit reluctantly. I've no doubt he could have caught up with her and left her in his wake had he put his mind to it.
Our next excitement came in the form of a mad dog! It tried to snap at Henck - him being closer, before turning it's attention on me. Methinks it realised my loose right foot was loose for a reason and could easily connect with its head, so it gave up the chase...protesting loudly and hoping the rest of the group would prove slower targets!
My reputation for being first at lunch was thwarted by Henck. Having reaslied his boyhood dream of doing a wheelie (well, you have to amuse yourself someway when you're waiting for the rest of the group) he left me to direct the group up the laneway to our lunch spot. George arrived in Peter's baccie as the derailleur on his bike had broken. The route had certainly tested these bikes with the terrain, rain, mud and dust.
Sam had just the best lunch waiting...complete with a hand prepared fruit salad. A strong breeze coupled with full on sunshine made for a lovely relaxing break.
"Only one more undulation" announced Henck with his usual grin. It would turn out to be a double undulation. No surprise there Henck! At our gathering point at the top of the hill we were told that we would ride into town together, as a group. That worked okay until the relatively steep incline where we spread out yet again. Henck was pedalling quite normally, and keeping alongside us. Yet without appearing to increase his pedalling he just took off. It never ceased to astonish us how he could just turn on the power. He spent so much time at the back of the group keeping spirits up that it must have been a wonderful release for him just to let rip and head off for a bit.
The left turn for Wildnerness came upon us, and we stopped to regroup. "For f*%k's sake" was all I heard behind me. Yes it was Shaun. Yes it was his chain! But this time it had broken. The bike was upturned and whilst an inspection was taking place a traffic police van appeared. Henck swore that he hadn't organised its arrival. Hmm! To cut the long story short (what do you mean, 'too late'?) Shaun's bike was put in the back of the van. Henck gave Shaun his bike, and Henck got into the van alongside the policewoman.
And so it was that we got a police escort at around 10mph all the way downhill into Wilderness. Can you believe it? Downhill and not allowed to enjoy it! Still the police escort made up for it. For some reason Henck thought it a good idea to stop in Wildnerness town and get us to tie balloons to our helmets! Why not? Then it was a long ride along an undulating road along the lagoon to the Ebb and Flow resort, and our chalets. A group photo was taken at the entrance before the final victory ride to the final stop at Peter's van.
Champagne and nibb
les had been prepared by Sam and Peter. Everyone was of good cheer realising just what an epic adventure we had experienced, endured, but completed since Sunday morning. We relaxed on the boardwalk outside the chalets until time for dinner. Again by dessert tiredness was setting in, and coupled with a 6am departure for Cape Town, there was going to be no late night partying tonight.
57km (37km tarmac, 20km dirt/unsealed)
There was an air of euphoria this morning with everyone realising aloud that "this is it". Bikes were unloaded from Peter's trailer and wheels pointed forwards from the sideways storage position. Sam's trailer was loaded with the luggage. Henck decided that we should do our warm up exercises, in the middle of the public car park! Bless him. You could almost feel the envy from the tour bus "cattle" as they gazed longingly at our bicycles, dreaming of the freedom to go at their own pace along tourist free country roads, instead of being herded from one tourist trap to the next.
A photoshoot was on the cards at the lagoon, and we rode off to the end of the road from the Ashmead Resort where we had stayed the night before and onto the lagoon edge path. An Action Cancer t-shirt clad photo at the end of a boardwalk was set up and duly logged. We continued on our way past a few boatyards and some nice white folks out power walking or what seemed like attempted jogging. Funny how the local black population were somewhat more preoccupied with working and daily survival!
Maybe we're stopping at the car park where Sam had dropped us off the night before for dinner? Nope! We continued on to the main road out of town. It was a beautiful sunny morning and riding alongside the lagoon was just brilliant. That we were inches away from the traffic on our right hand side didn't matter. Just before the hill out of town we stopped and our trusty steads loaded onto Peter's trailer....and off to Ruigtevlei (Ruich-teff-lie).
It had been originally planned for us to get a steam train to this isolated halt, but thanks to heavy rains and a landslide that option was taken away from us. You'll never guess what awaited us? Yes. An undulation. To be honest we were climbing up into the forests, and would be riding along the Seven Passes (Pawwwwses - for Henck!!!) Road. Once again the scenery didn't disappoint and yet again the joy of riding a bike allowed you to just freewheel and take in the views and the glorious sunshine.
A water and nibble stop was arranged at a drif (ford) just before quite a long and persistent climb. Long hours on the Tullymore Road, Glen Braes Road, Carnalbanagh etc paid off as I steadily made my ascent in pretty hot conditions. Sam was never too far in front, yet, as we came to tease him, just as you got close to him and his van, he would take off. Almost teasing you that maybe next time you would get to stop and rest.If you were paying close attention earlier you'll recall the complaint that we were riding too fast. Well today was no exception and we reached the tar road in record time. So a cunning plan was hatched.....a nature trail. Peter led us into the bush (fynbos) for a nature study. Not a naturalist study. Please! Do pay attention.
However he could only delay us so long. The tar road furnished us speedsters with more opportunities to tuck down into the handlebars and let rip. Sun in your face, and the wind in your hair (ahem!)...life was indeed good. As I said before though for every downhill....an uphill was waiting. Henck came up alongside me and we "chewed up the miles" at a steady 20mph. We were feeling pretty good with our cycling until we were passed by a fetching young lady on a road bike. Man, Henck was all for cycling hard and catching up with her. Ego thing!
I realised the ego massage that would provide, but if we failed to catch up (and remember she could well have just started her bike ride for the day) then we would crash and burn in glorious fashion. Henck conceded the point, albeit reluctantly. I've no doubt he could have caught up with her and left her in his wake had he put his mind to it.
Our next excitement came in the form of a mad dog! It tried to snap at Henck - him being closer, before turning it's attention on me. Methinks it realised my loose right foot was loose for a reason and could easily connect with its head, so it gave up the chase...protesting loudly and hoping the rest of the group would prove slower targets!
My reputation for being first at lunch was thwarted by Henck. Having reaslied his boyhood dream of doing a wheelie (well, you have to amuse yourself someway when you're waiting for the rest of the group) he left me to direct the group up the laneway to our lunch spot. George arrived in Peter's baccie as the derailleur on his bike had broken. The route had certainly tested these bikes with the terrain, rain, mud and dust.
Sam had just the best lunch waiting...complete with a hand prepared fruit salad. A strong breeze coupled with full on sunshine made for a lovely relaxing break.
"Only one more undulation" announced Henck with his usual grin. It would turn out to be a double undulation. No surprise there Henck! At our gathering point at the top of the hill we were told that we would ride into town together, as a group. That worked okay until the relatively steep incline where we spread out yet again. Henck was pedalling quite normally, and keeping alongside us. Yet without appearing to increase his pedalling he just took off. It never ceased to astonish us how he could just turn on the power. He spent so much time at the back of the group keeping spirits up that it must have been a wonderful release for him just to let rip and head off for a bit.
The left turn for Wildnerness came upon us, and we stopped to regroup. "For f*%k's sake" was all I heard behind me. Yes it was Shaun. Yes it was his chain! But this time it had broken. The bike was upturned and whilst an inspection was taking place a traffic police van appeared. Henck swore that he hadn't organised its arrival. Hmm! To cut the long story short (what do you mean, 'too late'?) Shaun's bike was put in the back of the van. Henck gave Shaun his bike, and Henck got into the van alongside the policewoman.
And so it was that we got a police escort at around 10mph all the way downhill into Wilderness. Can you believe it? Downhill and not allowed to enjoy it! Still the police escort made up for it. For some reason Henck thought it a good idea to stop in Wildnerness town and get us to tie balloons to our helmets! Why not? Then it was a long ride along an undulating road along the lagoon to the Ebb and Flow resort, and our chalets. A group photo was taken at the entrance before the final victory ride to the final stop at Peter's van.
Champagne and nibb
les had been prepared by Sam and Peter. Everyone was of good cheer realising just what an epic adventure we had experienced, endured, but completed since Sunday morning. We relaxed on the boardwalk outside the chalets until time for dinner. Again by dessert tiredness was setting in, and coupled with a 6am departure for Cape Town, there was going to be no late night partying tonight.Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Day 6, October 24th 2007
Uniondale (Die Hoop) to Knysna
73km (8km tarmac, 65km dirt/unsealed)
Tempting as it was to get up at 5am to go walkabout with the "wild" animals, I opted for lying in bed! Bearing in mind the grimness of the last 20km yesterday I wasn't up for it. I did hear muted voiced in the main room - thought it was George and Mary, but it turned out it was Doc. Sophie who was cadging a cup of tea from George. Apparently the walkabout was very enjoyable, but they were the only two, plus Henck, who went for it!
Looking out the front window when I did get up at 6am I was despondent to see the low cloud still there, and everything looking very wet. It wasn't actually raining, more that slightly moist air you get in fog/mist.
Breakfast was great, and we got loaded up, and into Sam's van. They were treating us to a ride to the tar road! Woooo!! Unless you did the ride the night before you have no idea how happy we were with that simple pleasure.
All too soon the end of the dirt road appeared and it was out and at it. The rain was starting and the breeze already picking up. Foolishly, as it turned out I took off my fleece thinking it would be too warm riding with it under my light rain jacket - it was South Africa after all. I wasn't expecting this weather.
Things weren't too bad for the first few kilometres. We crossed over the staggered crossroads and onto our favourite unsealed/dirt road which would take us up and over the Prince Alfred Pass. Well. The rain got heavier. The wind continued to blow. I got progressively colder. The rain wasn't soaking me but it made the light rain jacket stick to my skin and thus get colder. As the blood withdrew from my skin my shoulders got cold and then sore. The back of my right hand went numb and did my thumb, and an intense pain shot up my index finger. The left hand, strangely enough wasn't too bad. Thranness yet again made me plough on to the top of the pass.
By this time I was shaking really quite badly, and uncontrollably. Sam ordered me into the van where the heater was on full blast. When the rest of the crew arrived they all bailed in as well for sanctuary from the awful conditions.
Dr. Sophie was so concerned by my shaking (which I couldn't even stop for a second) that I think she was going to make me sit out the ride until I warmed up. Thankfully I warmed up sufficiently to avoid the ignominy of such a fate, and with the doc's body wamer (I was so cold my brain didn't even register to put my fleece back on) I set off down the undulation, sorry, hill road.
When you're still shaking from the cold and wet, it's hard to appreciate whether the road is bumpy or it's just you shaking!! But the downhill, once my shoulders stopped aching, and my hand wasn't numb was actually great fun with some just amazing mist shrouded scenery. It's no exaggeration to say that you needed to be there to appreciate the scale and wonder of the scenery. A photograph just wouldn't do it justice.
The group was to stop at the coffee house at the bottom of the pass. Analise and her one room shop was such a welcome sight. Bless her. A winning lottery ticket would not have been more welcome than her cups of tea and milk tart. And muffins! That and the sun broke out. Hallelujah!!
Soon enough it was time to de-robe the outer layers and back in the saddle. A long steady climb ensued, both in terms of the geography and the temperatue. It was soon time for a stop to peel off the inner layers and normal service was resumed.
This was a day full of undulations including one ridicuously steep section. It was so steep, a couple of passing 4x4 occupants were taking photographs of us! "Crazy fools" you could almost hear them say. At the top of this nut job section it was water and sun cream time, and time for a hearty pat on the back.
Lunch was on the cards. Sam would be at the top of the final hill. Yes, I actually think Henck used the 'h' word.
Of course, the question which was begged was....where or rather when is the "final hill"? Of course off we set. Neil, George and Shaun headed off in a front to back line, whilst I trundled on at my merry 6 or 7 miles an hour. I was asked if I was okay...as I wasn't keeping up! I assured them I was....playing the long game takes patience...something learned over many months on the roads in good old Northern Ireland. Before I knew it Shaun broke rank and I trundled past one, two and then I was in front.
We rode through a forested area and downhill. Usually you'd be expecting a whoo-hoo at this point. But. What goes down....and all that. Yes a hill, an undulation appeared and so did a bit of rain. I made my way slowly along the unsealed, rocky, sandy road and round a corner. Boom! A headwind made my life very difficult. Thranness is a wonderful attribute and a must for a charity bike ride. Could the settlement just ahead of me be the lunch stop. Yes!!! And there's a van. It doesn't look like our van, but maybe Sam is about there somewhere.
The closer I got the more I realised Sam wasn't there. I was hungry by this stage and none too enamoured with the incline ahead of me. Some carbo gel was consumed and a glug or two of water would help stem hunger for a while. George had joined me by this stage and was avoided getting splashed full on by a passing 4x4. I wasn't so fortunate! The bounder!!
On and on we slogged. Yet another downhill presented itself with the depressing reality of a surely following uphill. And what an uphill it was. The hardcore was very much to the surface and it was a long slow bumpy ride to the top. Long straight uphills are moral sapping as you can see the top but your sluggish pace makes the road seem never ending, like the scene in Wallace and Grommit's 'The wrong trousers' were Wallace is laying down seemingly endless pieces of track to keep the train running.
George set an even pace and so it was that Sam, his van, and more importantly lunch hoved into view. Thank you Lord. We rounded the corner and took our leave of our bikes. Tired legs aside. Near hypothermic experiences well behind me, I took in an awesome view from our lofty lunch
spot. Shaun arrived shortly thereafter, uttered something you wouldn't mention to those of a nervous or ladylike disposition and lay prostrate on the ground. As usual though Sam's fine fayre restored our energy levels, and Irish humour being what it is the laughter replaced the moans. Another canine friend appears and it ran to whoever called it, immediately rolling over for a tummy rub. Someone else called it and doggie ran to them and rolled over instantly. That dog had it made.
No one in the group had found the day thus far easy. And we were buoyed up with Henck's assurance that it was downhill all the way to Knysna. People were just a big slower at getting on their trusty steads and I found myself with Henck enjoying our immediate downhill section. A wry smile came over his face when, turning the corner into an undulation, I reminded him of his pronouncement of no more hills. "Maybe they won't notice!"
It appeared they didn't. By the time we reached the Groot Boom (big tree) stop no one mentioned the hill. Henck had been right. The really long downhill section had recharged flagging adrenalin levels, and erased the memories of wind, rain, freezing tempartures and (seemingly) never ending uphills.
Groot Boom, giant yellow tree was, well, big, but a tree nonetheless. No sequoia mind you. Suitably unimpressed we set off on what proved to be a really rather long section of dirt road. Thanks to some recent rainfall some section were pure mud. Eventually the tar road beckoned again. As we were only a short distance from Knysna I felt it time to break out the Jelly Babies!
A short sharp uphill led us to the start of the township. Wow! People were living in "houses" which ranged from four panel fence sections with polythene roof to a garden sheds. Occasionally
brick houses with corrugated tin roofs broke through. But what really stood out were the business operating from lorry containers! There is an optimism and spirit of survival which is inspiring, in spite of the appalling poverty and neglect.
Our route took us on the road through the township, over the N2 flyover, and actually in through a particularly humbling section of the township. The people seemed friendly to these nice white folks, riding their fancy mountain bikes en route to their nice hotel. It does make you uncomfortable to realise just how much we have and how little these folks make do with.
As soon as we had entered the township we left, hanging a right onto the N2 and hunching down on the handlebars we let rip downhill into Knysna. Henck was at hand at the appropriate junction, directing us left and on about 200 metres to our motel. Just across the lagoon were really fancy detached houses, with a stunning view of the hillside behind us, and the township!
The evening was rounded off with a lovely meal at the habourfront. We retired to bed knowing, somewhat ruefully in my case that tomorrow was indeed the last day.
73km (8km tarmac, 65km dirt/unsealed)
Tempting as it was to get up at 5am to go walkabout with the "wild" animals, I opted for lying in bed! Bearing in mind the grimness of the last 20km yesterday I wasn't up for it. I did hear muted voiced in the main room - thought it was George and Mary, but it turned out it was Doc. Sophie who was cadging a cup of tea from George. Apparently the walkabout was very enjoyable, but they were the only two, plus Henck, who went for it!
Looking out the front window when I did get up at 6am I was despondent to see the low cloud still there, and everything looking very wet. It wasn't actually raining, more that slightly moist air you get in fog/mist.
Breakfast was great, and we got loaded up, and into Sam's van. They were treating us to a ride to the tar road! Woooo!! Unless you did the ride the night before you have no idea how happy we were with that simple pleasure.
All too soon the end of the dirt road appeared and it was out and at it. The rain was starting and the breeze already picking up. Foolishly, as it turned out I took off my fleece thinking it would be too warm riding with it under my light rain jacket - it was South Africa after all. I wasn't expecting this weather.
Things weren't too bad for the first few kilometres. We crossed over the staggered crossroads and onto our favourite unsealed/dirt road which would take us up and over the Prince Alfred Pass. Well. The rain got heavier. The wind continued to blow. I got progressively colder. The rain wasn't soaking me but it made the light rain jacket stick to my skin and thus get colder. As the blood withdrew from my skin my shoulders got cold and then sore. The back of my right hand went numb and did my thumb, and an intense pain shot up my index finger. The left hand, strangely enough wasn't too bad. Thranness yet again made me plough on to the top of the pass.
By this time I was shaking really quite badly, and uncontrollably. Sam ordered me into the van where the heater was on full blast. When the rest of the crew arrived they all bailed in as well for sanctuary from the awful conditions.
Dr. Sophie was so concerned by my shaking (which I couldn't even stop for a second) that I think she was going to make me sit out the ride until I warmed up. Thankfully I warmed up sufficiently to avoid the ignominy of such a fate, and with the doc's body wamer (I was so cold my brain didn't even register to put my fleece back on) I set off down the undulation, sorry, hill road.
When you're still shaking from the cold and wet, it's hard to appreciate whether the road is bumpy or it's just you shaking!! But the downhill, once my shoulders stopped aching, and my hand wasn't numb was actually great fun with some just amazing mist shrouded scenery. It's no exaggeration to say that you needed to be there to appreciate the scale and wonder of the scenery. A photograph just wouldn't do it justice.
The group was to stop at the coffee house at the bottom of the pass. Analise and her one room shop was such a welcome sight. Bless her. A winning lottery ticket would not have been more welcome than her cups of tea and milk tart. And muffins! That and the sun broke out. Hallelujah!!
Soon enough it was time to de-robe the outer layers and back in the saddle. A long steady climb ensued, both in terms of the geography and the temperatue. It was soon time for a stop to peel off the inner layers and normal service was resumed.
This was a day full of undulations including one ridicuously steep section. It was so steep, a couple of passing 4x4 occupants were taking photographs of us! "Crazy fools" you could almost hear them say. At the top of this nut job section it was water and sun cream time, and time for a hearty pat on the back.Lunch was on the cards. Sam would be at the top of the final hill. Yes, I actually think Henck used the 'h' word.
Of course, the question which was begged was....where or rather when is the "final hill"? Of course off we set. Neil, George and Shaun headed off in a front to back line, whilst I trundled on at my merry 6 or 7 miles an hour. I was asked if I was okay...as I wasn't keeping up! I assured them I was....playing the long game takes patience...something learned over many months on the roads in good old Northern Ireland. Before I knew it Shaun broke rank and I trundled past one, two and then I was in front.
We rode through a forested area and downhill. Usually you'd be expecting a whoo-hoo at this point. But. What goes down....and all that. Yes a hill, an undulation appeared and so did a bit of rain. I made my way slowly along the unsealed, rocky, sandy road and round a corner. Boom! A headwind made my life very difficult. Thranness is a wonderful attribute and a must for a charity bike ride. Could the settlement just ahead of me be the lunch stop. Yes!!! And there's a van. It doesn't look like our van, but maybe Sam is about there somewhere.
The closer I got the more I realised Sam wasn't there. I was hungry by this stage and none too enamoured with the incline ahead of me. Some carbo gel was consumed and a glug or two of water would help stem hunger for a while. George had joined me by this stage and was avoided getting splashed full on by a passing 4x4. I wasn't so fortunate! The bounder!!
On and on we slogged. Yet another downhill presented itself with the depressing reality of a surely following uphill. And what an uphill it was. The hardcore was very much to the surface and it was a long slow bumpy ride to the top. Long straight uphills are moral sapping as you can see the top but your sluggish pace makes the road seem never ending, like the scene in Wallace and Grommit's 'The wrong trousers' were Wallace is laying down seemingly endless pieces of track to keep the train running.
George set an even pace and so it was that Sam, his van, and more importantly lunch hoved into view. Thank you Lord. We rounded the corner and took our leave of our bikes. Tired legs aside. Near hypothermic experiences well behind me, I took in an awesome view from our lofty lunch
spot. Shaun arrived shortly thereafter, uttered something you wouldn't mention to those of a nervous or ladylike disposition and lay prostrate on the ground. As usual though Sam's fine fayre restored our energy levels, and Irish humour being what it is the laughter replaced the moans. Another canine friend appears and it ran to whoever called it, immediately rolling over for a tummy rub. Someone else called it and doggie ran to them and rolled over instantly. That dog had it made.No one in the group had found the day thus far easy. And we were buoyed up with Henck's assurance that it was downhill all the way to Knysna. People were just a big slower at getting on their trusty steads and I found myself with Henck enjoying our immediate downhill section. A wry smile came over his face when, turning the corner into an undulation, I reminded him of his pronouncement of no more hills. "Maybe they won't notice!"
It appeared they didn't. By the time we reached the Groot Boom (big tree) stop no one mentioned the hill. Henck had been right. The really long downhill section had recharged flagging adrenalin levels, and erased the memories of wind, rain, freezing tempartures and (seemingly) never ending uphills.
Groot Boom, giant yellow tree was, well, big, but a tree nonetheless. No sequoia mind you. Suitably unimpressed we set off on what proved to be a really rather long section of dirt road. Thanks to some recent rainfall some section were pure mud. Eventually the tar road beckoned again. As we were only a short distance from Knysna I felt it time to break out the Jelly Babies!
A short sharp uphill led us to the start of the township. Wow! People were living in "houses" which ranged from four panel fence sections with polythene roof to a garden sheds. Occasionally
brick houses with corrugated tin roofs broke through. But what really stood out were the business operating from lorry containers! There is an optimism and spirit of survival which is inspiring, in spite of the appalling poverty and neglect.Our route took us on the road through the township, over the N2 flyover, and actually in through a particularly humbling section of the township. The people seemed friendly to these nice white folks, riding their fancy mountain bikes en route to their nice hotel. It does make you uncomfortable to realise just how much we have and how little these folks make do with.
As soon as we had entered the township we left, hanging a right onto the N2 and hunching down on the handlebars we let rip downhill into Knysna. Henck was at hand at the appropriate junction, directing us left and on about 200 metres to our motel. Just across the lagoon were really fancy detached houses, with a stunning view of the hillside behind us, and the township!
The evening was rounded off with a lovely meal at the habourfront. We retired to bed knowing, somewhat ruefully in my case that tomorrow was indeed the last day.
Monday, 12 November 2007
Day 5, October 23rd 2007
De Rust to Uniondale (Die Hoop +20km)
100km (91km tarmac, 9km dirt - still think there was more km on dirt than 9km!)
Today started with the usual routine. Alarm 6.00am. Get dressed and up the street to the, as yet unopened, restaurant. The locals were bemused to see nice white boys up at such an early hour and, perhaps more importantly, walking. In SA, in the countryside the only people I ever saw walking were non-whites (there! I avoided any risk of upsetting anyone with a potentially un-pc term).
Breakfast was great. The usual fresh fruit, yoghurts, cereal, fried breakfast, juices, toast...the list goes on.
7.30am and it was "on yer bike" as we had taught Henk to say. The ride started pleasantly enough with a short stop for a photo with the ostriches. Thereafter a gentle ride to the turn off for Uniondale. The group did eventually string out, and Shaun headed off into the distance, joined occasionally by myself and Neil. Sam corralled the group for water and nibbles.
The weather forecast had spoken of a 30% chance of rain. Whilst the sun was shining and a pleasant breeze blew we took no notice. That was until we approached Louis' home. Louis apparently has no use for a surname, nor for that matter shoes! He has not worn shoes since he was a nipper, and his one and only pair are for church.
It was the non-wearing of shoes which fascinated the group more so than his growing of plants for use in traditional medicines, and his claims that the plants could cure almost any illness. "You don't wear shoes at all?" So much for curing illnesses.
The wind was really picking up and the temperature dropped. A brief shower foretold of what was to come later on. The tour of the ostriches, and promises of riches for those who invested in the birds, over we headed onto the road again.
Henk and myself "chewed up the miles" (another of Henk's wonderful phrases) at a steady 22mph, passing the time yarning and admiring the Karoo scenery. By the time we came to the turn off onto our unsealed road, the rain started and it was accompanied by its close friend, the strong wind. Thankfully it passed, and we seemed to be riding alongside the rain clouds rather than through them.
Lunch came at the end of a fun downhill section. Sam once again excelled himself with his fayre. When the sun ducked behind a cloud you could really feel the freshness of the wind, but forgot about it when the sun reappeared.
Soon enough the lounging of lunchtime was over with an "On yer bikes" from Henck. He was clearly enjoying his new 'Irish' phrases.
Today was the longest stretch of unsealed/dirt roads and it went on, and on, and on, and...you get the picture. The scenery was straight out of a Western movie, but when you're trudging along mile after mile the novelty of the scenery wears off a bit. A passing 4WD broke the monotony occasionally.
Again it was the hills which stretched out the group, and for whatever reason I was well out in front again. Sam thankfully appeared with Rashida, who had sat out the long, occasionally bumpy section, to rest her arm. He stopped near the top of the final undulation before the tar road leading to Uniondale. Water and nibbles were taken onboard and notes compared re the long long stretch we'd just ridden.
Spirits were raised by the gentle descent to the tar road. Hanging a right we were straight into a headwind with some attitude, and within a few minutes driving rain. Head down to the handlebar and cycle away. I had stayed at the back with Anne whilst the rest of the group headed on to town. Spinning is the only option in a headwind, particularly after you've already ridden 40 odd miles. And so it came to pass that it was on to the main road to Uniondale. One final undulation and rounding the bend the town (Broughshane size) hoved into view. What a welcome sight. The rain had cleared, although it was overcast.
Catherine and myself rode into town. Just as we got to Sam's van in centre of town, the heavens opened. A squally shower which wasn't taking its time to come down drenched the final few riders. The temperature really dipped and for the first time on the cycle I felt really cold. A coffee and a bar of chocolate - a "Threesome" - helped recovery.
Henck announced that it was "only another 20km" to Die Hoop, our accomodation for the evening. Normally "only 20km" would not bother anyone. But we've just ridden about 50miles and it's now breezy and cold. That and Uniondale had seemed like the end of the ride. I don't think anyone expected what came next.
However other than wimping out it was back on the saddle. Uphill out of town was tiring on the quads but manageable, until the wind picked up and the heavy rain started. Now picture an uphill winding road, with every corner you round being met by a gust of wind and driving rain. Now picture the knowledge of another 9km uphill in that.
At one point I seriously considered chucking it in for the day, but pride and thranness kept me trudging on. I had to take off the cycling glasses as I couldn't see. That only helped a bit, as now I could hardly keep my eyes open as the rain was hitting me in the face so hard. When you know that everyone else in the group is also struggling in the same conditions, the solidarity does drive you on.
Eventually the dirt road into Die Hoop appeared. The conditions had eased a bit, but it was cold, breezy and wet. "Only a another 10k guys" Sam cheerily announced. Neil, Shaun, George and myself headed off steadily enough on the downhill section from the tar road, but soon enough the conditions slowed us down to a snail's pace.
Imagine riding on hard sand; wet hard sand. The bike only moved when you peddled, no freewheeling. I was in 1/4 most of the way on the bike. So not enjoyable.
I saw in the distance huge concrete arc walls at the entrance to a large bungalow which sat down in the valley. This is it. Yes! My spirits raised I pulled what reserves I had into the final push. Not to be! When I approached the entrance the name wasn't Die Hoop. And, when I looked at my bike computer I saw that we had another 3.5 miles to go. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Poor George coming behind me recounted his delight in seeing the entrance, only to be deflated when he saw me ride on.
Like everything else in life though, there was light at the end of the tunnel, and even a good downhill to Die Hoop. Sam met me as he headed back out towards the road, telling me that the lane into Die Hoop was at the bottom of the hill. Yea! Passing a field of zebras held no fascination for someone whose legs were now covered in mud, barely turning the wheels and dreaming of hot water and food.
Of course the laneway up into Die Hoop had to be uphill, with a fierce side wind! But slowly, surely I got to the top. The workers told me there was a fire in the main house and tea/coffee! I did wait for some of the others to arrive, before indulging.
Shaun summed up everyone's feelings about the last 20km when he said it was the lowest point in his life to date!
It's amazing though what a few cups of Rooibos tea and a log fire can do for battered spirits. Cold bath, warm shower, great food and Neil playing his travel guitar ensured an enjoyable end to a tough day.
100km (91km tarmac, 9km dirt - still think there was more km on dirt than 9km!)
Today started with the usual routine. Alarm 6.00am. Get dressed and up the street to the, as yet unopened, restaurant. The locals were bemused to see nice white boys up at such an early hour and, perhaps more importantly, walking. In SA, in the countryside the only people I ever saw walking were non-whites (there! I avoided any risk of upsetting anyone with a potentially un-pc term).
Breakfast was great. The usual fresh fruit, yoghurts, cereal, fried breakfast, juices, toast...the list goes on.
7.30am and it was "on yer bike" as we had taught Henk to say. The ride started pleasantly enough with a short stop for a photo with the ostriches. Thereafter a gentle ride to the turn off for Uniondale. The group did eventually string out, and Shaun headed off into the distance, joined occasionally by myself and Neil. Sam corralled the group for water and nibbles.
The weather forecast had spoken of a 30% chance of rain. Whilst the sun was shining and a pleasant breeze blew we took no notice. That was until we approached Louis' home. Louis apparently has no use for a surname, nor for that matter shoes! He has not worn shoes since he was a nipper, and his one and only pair are for church.
It was the non-wearing of shoes which fascinated the group more so than his growing of plants for use in traditional medicines, and his claims that the plants could cure almost any illness. "You don't wear shoes at all?" So much for curing illnesses.
The wind was really picking up and the temperature dropped. A brief shower foretold of what was to come later on. The tour of the ostriches, and promises of riches for those who invested in the birds, over we headed onto the road again.
Henk and myself "chewed up the miles" (another of Henk's wonderful phrases) at a steady 22mph, passing the time yarning and admiring the Karoo scenery. By the time we came to the turn off onto our unsealed road, the rain started and it was accompanied by its close friend, the strong wind. Thankfully it passed, and we seemed to be riding alongside the rain clouds rather than through them.
Lunch came at the end of a fun downhill section. Sam once again excelled himself with his fayre. When the sun ducked behind a cloud you could really feel the freshness of the wind, but forgot about it when the sun reappeared.
Soon enough the lounging of lunchtime was over with an "On yer bikes" from Henck. He was clearly enjoying his new 'Irish' phrases.
Today was the longest stretch of unsealed/dirt roads and it went on, and on, and on, and...you get the picture. The scenery was straight out of a Western movie, but when you're trudging along mile after mile the novelty of the scenery wears off a bit. A passing 4WD broke the monotony occasionally.
Again it was the hills which stretched out the group, and for whatever reason I was well out in front again. Sam thankfully appeared with Rashida, who had sat out the long, occasionally bumpy section, to rest her arm. He stopped near the top of the final undulation before the tar road leading to Uniondale. Water and nibbles were taken onboard and notes compared re the long long stretch we'd just ridden.
Spirits were raised by the gentle descent to the tar road. Hanging a right we were straight into a headwind with some attitude, and within a few minutes driving rain. Head down to the handlebar and cycle away. I had stayed at the back with Anne whilst the rest of the group headed on to town. Spinning is the only option in a headwind, particularly after you've already ridden 40 odd miles. And so it came to pass that it was on to the main road to Uniondale. One final undulation and rounding the bend the town (Broughshane size) hoved into view. What a welcome sight. The rain had cleared, although it was overcast.
Catherine and myself rode into town. Just as we got to Sam's van in centre of town, the heavens opened. A squally shower which wasn't taking its time to come down drenched the final few riders. The temperature really dipped and for the first time on the cycle I felt really cold. A coffee and a bar of chocolate - a "Threesome" - helped recovery.
Henck announced that it was "only another 20km" to Die Hoop, our accomodation for the evening. Normally "only 20km" would not bother anyone. But we've just ridden about 50miles and it's now breezy and cold. That and Uniondale had seemed like the end of the ride. I don't think anyone expected what came next.
However other than wimping out it was back on the saddle. Uphill out of town was tiring on the quads but manageable, until the wind picked up and the heavy rain started. Now picture an uphill winding road, with every corner you round being met by a gust of wind and driving rain. Now picture the knowledge of another 9km uphill in that.
At one point I seriously considered chucking it in for the day, but pride and thranness kept me trudging on. I had to take off the cycling glasses as I couldn't see. That only helped a bit, as now I could hardly keep my eyes open as the rain was hitting me in the face so hard. When you know that everyone else in the group is also struggling in the same conditions, the solidarity does drive you on.
Eventually the dirt road into Die Hoop appeared. The conditions had eased a bit, but it was cold, breezy and wet. "Only a another 10k guys" Sam cheerily announced. Neil, Shaun, George and myself headed off steadily enough on the downhill section from the tar road, but soon enough the conditions slowed us down to a snail's pace.
Imagine riding on hard sand; wet hard sand. The bike only moved when you peddled, no freewheeling. I was in 1/4 most of the way on the bike. So not enjoyable.
I saw in the distance huge concrete arc walls at the entrance to a large bungalow which sat down in the valley. This is it. Yes! My spirits raised I pulled what reserves I had into the final push. Not to be! When I approached the entrance the name wasn't Die Hoop. And, when I looked at my bike computer I saw that we had another 3.5 miles to go. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Poor George coming behind me recounted his delight in seeing the entrance, only to be deflated when he saw me ride on.
Like everything else in life though, there was light at the end of the tunnel, and even a good downhill to Die Hoop. Sam met me as he headed back out towards the road, telling me that the lane into Die Hoop was at the bottom of the hill. Yea! Passing a field of zebras held no fascination for someone whose legs were now covered in mud, barely turning the wheels and dreaming of hot water and food.
Of course the laneway up into Die Hoop had to be uphill, with a fierce side wind! But slowly, surely I got to the top. The workers told me there was a fire in the main house and tea/coffee! I did wait for some of the others to arrive, before indulging.
Shaun summed up everyone's feelings about the last 20km when he said it was the lowest point in his life to date!
It's amazing though what a few cups of Rooibos tea and a log fire can do for battered spirits. Cold bath, warm shower, great food and Neil playing his travel guitar ensured an enjoyable end to a tough day.
Thursday, 8 November 2007
Day 4, October 22nd 2007
Oudtshoorn to De Rust
65km (65km dirt/unsealed)
Today was to be a gentle 42km run with a few of Henck's, by now infamous "undulations". He had got so much stick the first day about his "undulations" and his way off estimates as to distances that everytime he went to say "undulations" he would break out in a big smile! He then wondered why we never believed him when he said there was only one or two "undulations"!
First though on the agenda was a transfer to visit the Cango Caves. You know the sort of thing...stallectites...stallegmites (before you start, I don't even care if those two words are incorrectly spelled!)...lots of guff about 263 million years ago. And...a wonderful guide, who in a Jamaicanesque accent showed us the organnn piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipes! Each time he referred to them it was just a joy to hear. Not sure if that was how he normally pronounced the word, but we didn't care!
We were book
ed in for the Adventure Tour, and so we dandered past the tour bus herds, and on into the inner depths of the cave system. Our guide, Crystal takes theses tours three times a day all week. It was up Jacob's Ladder (a steep metal fixed ladder) to the upper level, through the crouching chamber, then sideways through a very narrow passage, before we got to the Devil's Chimney. This is a passage into which you feed yourself upwards, arms outstretched and climb the 20 feet or so to the chamber up above. The ladies went first, with only one getting slightly stuck at the feed-in stage. Shaun went ahead of me and there was much heavy breathing! The calcium deposits were so smooth it was like trying to climb up lumpy marble.
Finally there was a flat crawl on your belly section, before exiting backwards through the Letterbox, and out the sideways passage etc.
Yes, the biking had to start sometime, and so it was we headed down the road, past the t-junction and restaurant from yesterday, with the same, albeit less strong headwind, to our turnoff just before the Le Roux river bridge. After a brief stop at the dam, near the top of a short but sharp undulation, it was onwards to lunch.
The undulations started to space out the riders again and so it was I ended up well in front, suffering a bit in the heat, but enjoying the steep downhill and through a small drif (ford). It was then that the undulation to end all undulations hoved into view (or so I thought). It was just pure uphill, with lots of sand (dry loose dirt). Riding proved, for me, impossible, as the wheels just slid and spun. So I got off and pushed. Not that that was any easier. Much stopping and mopping of brow followed. My napper felt like it was burning and, as I say the sweat was dripping off my head! Not pleasant.
Great! Near the top! Nope, just a chance for the undulation to turn right and continue on its ever steep path to the top. Eventually I got to the top, not amused. Rewarded with a longish downhill I took on the next undulation with determination and won. And another downhill was much enjoyed, especially when I got to ride into the range of the sprinklers in the adjacent fields. So cooling.
Thankfully I was paying sufficient attention that I spotted Sam's van parked underneath some trees at an abandoned property...Neil and George rode past at speed when they arrived, and almost rode on, but for much howlering.. (George wondered how the two local boys who shouted after him knew his name - they had heard us shout).
Sam asked, "What are you doing here?". I told him it was the lunch stop. "But you're too early!". Well I'm not going back up that hill! He was only in the middle of preparing lunch and was much perturbed by my early arrival. Neil and George's arrival added to his pressure.
Our attention was diverted when we were alerted to Rashida having come off her bike on the downhill section before the lunch stop. After careful examination by Dr. Sophie, Rashida was brought to the lunch stop and fully examined and treated....after lunch being taken to hospital for examination (thankfully no fracture of the elbow).
Shaun displayed
his prowess on the downhill sections after lunch, seemingly oblivious to the brakes on his bike. He was somewhat concerned when he met three young men on the road, one of whom was carrying a scythe! They said something to me as I rode past (quite quickly I might add) but I didn't stop to seek a translation....my Xhosa/Afrikaans not being up to scratch.
The weather was warm and pleasant, and the scenery just wonderful. Bike riding allows you time to soak in the scenery and enjoy each moment. We stopped briefly as I'd forgotten to buckle my helmet, when this doggie wandered out from a house, siddled up to me for a good patting, then over to Shaun for the same treatment. It really did seem quite upset when we rode off and left it!
Eventually we hit
the tar road, and as a group we headed up the hill for De Rust. Henck led the way followed by yours truly. The final uphill (sorry, undulation) strung out the group once more. The long line of riders free wheeled their way into town and into Olivier's Rust - our accomodation for the evening with terraced chalets with a pool, cleaned expertly by Aideen and Mary! One thing we did notice in SA was that no matter how small the town, it always had at least one high quality restaurant, coupled with first class service...not that I'm making a point about Northern Ireland restaurants or service!!!
65km (65km dirt/unsealed)
Today was to be a gentle 42km run with a few of Henck's, by now infamous "undulations". He had got so much stick the first day about his "undulations" and his way off estimates as to distances that everytime he went to say "undulations" he would break out in a big smile! He then wondered why we never believed him when he said there was only one or two "undulations"!
First though on the agenda was a transfer to visit the Cango Caves. You know the sort of thing...stallectites...stallegmites (before you start, I don't even care if those two words are incorrectly spelled!)...lots of guff about 263 million years ago. And...a wonderful guide, who in a Jamaicanesque accent showed us the organnn piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipes! Each time he referred to them it was just a joy to hear. Not sure if that was how he normally pronounced the word, but we didn't care!
We were book
ed in for the Adventure Tour, and so we dandered past the tour bus herds, and on into the inner depths of the cave system. Our guide, Crystal takes theses tours three times a day all week. It was up Jacob's Ladder (a steep metal fixed ladder) to the upper level, through the crouching chamber, then sideways through a very narrow passage, before we got to the Devil's Chimney. This is a passage into which you feed yourself upwards, arms outstretched and climb the 20 feet or so to the chamber up above. The ladies went first, with only one getting slightly stuck at the feed-in stage. Shaun went ahead of me and there was much heavy breathing! The calcium deposits were so smooth it was like trying to climb up lumpy marble.Finally there was a flat crawl on your belly section, before exiting backwards through the Letterbox, and out the sideways passage etc.
Yes, the biking had to start sometime, and so it was we headed down the road, past the t-junction and restaurant from yesterday, with the same, albeit less strong headwind, to our turnoff just before the Le Roux river bridge. After a brief stop at the dam, near the top of a short but sharp undulation, it was onwards to lunch.
The undulations started to space out the riders again and so it was I ended up well in front, suffering a bit in the heat, but enjoying the steep downhill and through a small drif (ford). It was then that the undulation to end all undulations hoved into view (or so I thought). It was just pure uphill, with lots of sand (dry loose dirt). Riding proved, for me, impossible, as the wheels just slid and spun. So I got off and pushed. Not that that was any easier. Much stopping and mopping of brow followed. My napper felt like it was burning and, as I say the sweat was dripping off my head! Not pleasant.
Great! Near the top! Nope, just a chance for the undulation to turn right and continue on its ever steep path to the top. Eventually I got to the top, not amused. Rewarded with a longish downhill I took on the next undulation with determination and won. And another downhill was much enjoyed, especially when I got to ride into the range of the sprinklers in the adjacent fields. So cooling.
Thankfully I was paying sufficient attention that I spotted Sam's van parked underneath some trees at an abandoned property...Neil and George rode past at speed when they arrived, and almost rode on, but for much howlering.. (George wondered how the two local boys who shouted after him knew his name - they had heard us shout).
Sam asked, "What are you doing here?". I told him it was the lunch stop. "But you're too early!". Well I'm not going back up that hill! He was only in the middle of preparing lunch and was much perturbed by my early arrival. Neil and George's arrival added to his pressure.
Our attention was diverted when we were alerted to Rashida having come off her bike on the downhill section before the lunch stop. After careful examination by Dr. Sophie, Rashida was brought to the lunch stop and fully examined and treated....after lunch being taken to hospital for examination (thankfully no fracture of the elbow).
Shaun displayed
his prowess on the downhill sections after lunch, seemingly oblivious to the brakes on his bike. He was somewhat concerned when he met three young men on the road, one of whom was carrying a scythe! They said something to me as I rode past (quite quickly I might add) but I didn't stop to seek a translation....my Xhosa/Afrikaans not being up to scratch.The weather was warm and pleasant, and the scenery just wonderful. Bike riding allows you time to soak in the scenery and enjoy each moment. We stopped briefly as I'd forgotten to buckle my helmet, when this doggie wandered out from a house, siddled up to me for a good patting, then over to Shaun for the same treatment. It really did seem quite upset when we rode off and left it!
Eventually we hit
the tar road, and as a group we headed up the hill for De Rust. Henck led the way followed by yours truly. The final uphill (sorry, undulation) strung out the group once more. The long line of riders free wheeled their way into town and into Olivier's Rust - our accomodation for the evening with terraced chalets with a pool, cleaned expertly by Aideen and Mary! One thing we did notice in SA was that no matter how small the town, it always had at least one high quality restaurant, coupled with first class service...not that I'm making a point about Northern Ireland restaurants or service!!!
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
Day 3, October 21st 2007
Prince Albert t0 Oudtshoorn
54km (19km tarmac, 33km dirt/unsealed)
with undulations!!
After showering and breakfast it was time. Time when months of training met the reality that was the Swartberg Pass (or Swartberrqke Paawwww-s as Henk pronounced it. It's hard to spell out how a 'g' is pronounced in Afrikaans: ask me sometime).
Heading out of town at 7.30am presented no problems, as clearly Sunday morning was a lie in for everyone except us! Although on our travels to the starting point at Eerste Water we did pass a troop (is that the correct grouping) of baboons.
Bikes were unloaded and front forks straightened out so that the front wheel faced forwards instead of the storage position of sideways! That could have made for interesting cycling. Group photo over it was showtime! Let me say that the Swartberg Pass road passes through some jaw dropping canyons (kloofs). No photograph could do justice to the scale of the mountains and the striations of the rock...in places folded like a cloth, almost in two...amazing.
The road is unsealed and quite bumpy...and sandy. That the road ran at an angle sideway as well as uphill didn't help for stability as poor Catherine found out when her wheels slid from under her.
My training on the roads around Broughshane paid off as I gradually increased in distance from the group. I hung back a few times so as to remain with the group, but I knew that if I didn't stick to the uphill pace I'd been used to that I'd struggle to make it to the top (known at "Die Top"). And so, gradually, bit by bit the distance increased. Now I was only doing 5.5mph, but it was sufficient to get me t
o the top 20 minutes ahead of the next person, George Gormley.
On the way up there are a series of switchbacks which get gradually steeper. In 40 celsius the going was tight but I didn't get off, although I did stop a few times for water and photographs. The view from the starting side of the Pass at the last switchback was just amazing. Peter's baccie and trailer looked mighty small from where I stood.
Rounding the corner I could see the lookout spot where we had arranged to stop for water and nibbles. Another baccie passed me with two ladies swigging beer in the back and made it's way round the winding roads. Friendly bunch that they were waved merrily at me...or was it in sympathy at these crazy fools riding a bike up a mountain in this heat? The baccie rounded a corner and I expected to see it reappear in a matter of seconds. Nope. It was quite a while later that is appeared, thus letting me know that it would be quite a while longer, and quite a few more corners before my rest stop!
But it eventually came and it was great to know that the hardest part of the ride for that day was over. We'd ridden 6.2km from 650m above sea level to a height of 1385metres. I'd made it in about 1hr40mins, I think. Everyone was at the top around 10.30am. That pace set the mark for the rest of the week; something Sam would start to complain about.
It was a short ride past the sign for "Die Hel" to our toilet stop and more nibbles...peanuts/raisins, dried fruits and compressed/sugared fruits. All good energy food. After the photoshoot at Die Top (1583m) and marvelling at the stunning scenery (and peering into the distance at our destination) it was all downhill to lunch. Braking only meant sore wrists and fingers on the bumpy surface, so it was stand up and forget the brakes.
Having stopped for a photo and a video clip of the gang coming down past a car with an English couple stopped to ask what we were up to and if they could hire bikes in Prince Albert. Well. I thought at first glance that the driver, the chap, was in the buff!! I kid you not. Bare legs and chest.....Neil then stopped on the other side and started chatting. When the driver looked at Neil I had a quick duke (well! You'd have done the same!) and he was wearing skimpy peach coloured shorts. Phew!
Luncheon was provided by Sam. Meats with salad, and rolls, and crisps, tea/coffee, fruit. It was just brilliant and was a foretaste of the everyday delights that Sam would produce for lunch.
On the main road to Oudtshoorn we knew we were going to have a challenging ride to the finish when everyone, including those of a heavier frame, had to cycle downhill (yes, you read that correctly) to get any speed up. The hills created a funnel, up which the wind howled. It wasn't cold, but progress was slow. Even when you dipped down on the handlebars your speed barely increased.
We stopped briefly at an ostrich farm where Dr. Sophie led us on an unofficial tour through an open back gate of the ostrich nursery. Amazing creatures, with their flexible bendy necks - the males with their red beaks and red ankles when they're annoyed.
The strong headwind was a feature for the final entire 20km from the t-junction where we'd turned on to the main road. But we persevered and finally, somewhat bedraggled, we turned into our home for the evening, Kleiplaas caravan and chalet park.
Taking Mary and Aideen's advice I tackled a cold bath before my warm shower...apparently the cold water ensures the blood withdraws from the extremities taking the lactic acid with it. And the warm water ensures a supply of lovely fresh blood with all its goodness.
A braai (bbq) in the evening rounded off our first day. Henk has gone off for a chat with Neil and we were waiting patiently for someone to tell us the food was ready. The lady behind the table was waiting patiently for us to realise the food was already ready! Thankfully she blinked first and asked if we were ready to eat. We'd sat for over half an hour hungry, but politely waiting! The ostrich steaks were just lovely.
54km (19km tarmac, 33km dirt/unsealed)
with undulations!!
After showering and breakfast it was time. Time when months of training met the reality that was the Swartberg Pass (or Swartberrqke Paawwww-s as Henk pronounced it. It's hard to spell out how a 'g' is pronounced in Afrikaans: ask me sometime).
Heading out of town at 7.30am presented no problems, as clearly Sunday morning was a lie in for everyone except us! Although on our travels to the starting point at Eerste Water we did pass a troop (is that the correct grouping) of baboons.Bikes were unloaded and front forks straightened out so that the front wheel faced forwards instead of the storage position of sideways! That could have made for interesting cycling. Group photo over it was showtime! Let me say that the Swartberg Pass road passes through some jaw dropping canyons (kloofs). No photograph could do justice to the scale of the mountains and the striations of the rock...in places folded like a cloth, almost in two...amazing.
The road is unsealed and quite bumpy...and sandy. That the road ran at an angle sideway as well as uphill didn't help for stability as poor Catherine found out when her wheels slid from under her.
My training on the roads around Broughshane paid off as I gradually increased in distance from the group. I hung back a few times so as to remain with the group, but I knew that if I didn't stick to the uphill pace I'd been used to that I'd struggle to make it to the top (known at "Die Top"). And so, gradually, bit by bit the distance increased. Now I was only doing 5.5mph, but it was sufficient to get me t
o the top 20 minutes ahead of the next person, George Gormley.On the way up there are a series of switchbacks which get gradually steeper. In 40 celsius the going was tight but I didn't get off, although I did stop a few times for water and photographs. The view from the starting side of the Pass at the last switchback was just amazing. Peter's baccie and trailer looked mighty small from where I stood.
Rounding the corner I could see the lookout spot where we had arranged to stop for water and nibbles. Another baccie passed me with two ladies swigging beer in the back and made it's way round the winding roads. Friendly bunch that they were waved merrily at me...or was it in sympathy at these crazy fools riding a bike up a mountain in this heat? The baccie rounded a corner and I expected to see it reappear in a matter of seconds. Nope. It was quite a while later that is appeared, thus letting me know that it would be quite a while longer, and quite a few more corners before my rest stop!
But it eventually came and it was great to know that the hardest part of the ride for that day was over. We'd ridden 6.2km from 650m above sea level to a height of 1385metres. I'd made it in about 1hr40mins, I think. Everyone was at the top around 10.30am. That pace set the mark for the rest of the week; something Sam would start to complain about.
It was a short ride past the sign for "Die Hel" to our toilet stop and more nibbles...peanuts/raisins, dried fruits and compressed/sugared fruits. All good energy food. After the photoshoot at Die Top (1583m) and marvelling at the stunning scenery (and peering into the distance at our destination) it was all downhill to lunch. Braking only meant sore wrists and fingers on the bumpy surface, so it was stand up and forget the brakes.
Having stopped for a photo and a video clip of the gang coming down past a car with an English couple stopped to ask what we were up to and if they could hire bikes in Prince Albert. Well. I thought at first glance that the driver, the chap, was in the buff!! I kid you not. Bare legs and chest.....Neil then stopped on the other side and started chatting. When the driver looked at Neil I had a quick duke (well! You'd have done the same!) and he was wearing skimpy peach coloured shorts. Phew!
Luncheon was provided by Sam. Meats with salad, and rolls, and crisps, tea/coffee, fruit. It was just brilliant and was a foretaste of the everyday delights that Sam would produce for lunch.
On the main road to Oudtshoorn we knew we were going to have a challenging ride to the finish when everyone, including those of a heavier frame, had to cycle downhill (yes, you read that correctly) to get any speed up. The hills created a funnel, up which the wind howled. It wasn't cold, but progress was slow. Even when you dipped down on the handlebars your speed barely increased.
We stopped briefly at an ostrich farm where Dr. Sophie led us on an unofficial tour through an open back gate of the ostrich nursery. Amazing creatures, with their flexible bendy necks - the males with their red beaks and red ankles when they're annoyed.
The strong headwind was a feature for the final entire 20km from the t-junction where we'd turned on to the main road. But we persevered and finally, somewhat bedraggled, we turned into our home for the evening, Kleiplaas caravan and chalet park.
Taking Mary and Aideen's advice I tackled a cold bath before my warm shower...apparently the cold water ensures the blood withdraws from the extremities taking the lactic acid with it. And the warm water ensures a supply of lovely fresh blood with all its goodness.
A braai (bbq) in the evening rounded off our first day. Henk has gone off for a chat with Neil and we were waiting patiently for someone to tell us the food was ready. The lady behind the table was waiting patiently for us to realise the food was already ready! Thankfully she blinked first and asked if we were ready to eat. We'd sat for over half an hour hungry, but politely waiting! The ostrich steaks were just lovely.
Day 2, October 20th 2007
Johannesburg to Prince Albert
We arrived around 9.20am, local time in Jo'burg collected our luggage and made our way to the domestic departures terminal for our Kulula airways flight to George. Africa! Wooo! Sorry, but it was exciting, to me anyhows to be in Africa.
Neil was approached by a very friendly and official looking chappie who was wearing a tour guide badge (an oval badge with the SA flag, and a name) who asked if we were travelling as a group and made off. We like sheep followed him, although Neil was not convinced this chappie was khosher. When we got to the desk he asked for our passports, which we stupidly handed over, except Neil! Then he realised we were flying Kulula and so off it was again back to where we had started. Once booked in, the inevitable happened and he asked for a tip. He was told, ever so politely that his services had not been asked for, he effectively hijacked our group and no, he wasn't getting anything.
Quick as a flash he set off in pursuit of his next quarry!
Our flight to George left aroudn 1.15pm on Kulula airways. Now if you've never flown with these guys you've never enjoyed or laughed so much during the safety demonstration. The announcer should have been on the stage. I can't remember all the quips, but he told us we'd better listen to the landing on water display as we'd be flying over some swimming pools and dirty rivers. He finished with 'Don't be leaving anything behind, although if the man in row 13 wants to leave his girlfriend, that will be fine!"
That and the green plane livery and the green leather seating make for a fun journey. It certainly brightened up the third plane flight in 12 hours for us!
We were met at the airport by Henk Blanckenberg, our local guide who'd be riding with us, and by Sam who'd be driving the mini-bus/van and trailer with our luggage in it. The scenery from the airport was just amazing....a jagged mountain range running left and right. That complimented the stunning costal scenery we'd viewed from the plane.
A stunning drive o
ver the mountains and brought us down to Oudtshoorn, where someone had left the oven door open. Boy was it warm. After a brief stop it was on to Prince Albert and Onse Rus Guesthouse. In the Cape Dutch style our home for the evening was just beautiful. Peter, our third local guide was on hand to start prepping the bikes which turned out to be great quality with lovely gel saddles.
Then it was off to the local restaurant and THE rugby match...South Africa against England. As it turned out everyone turned out just as relieved that the game ended as with the result. It was possibly the most boring game of rugby I've ever seen. But hey, a win is a win. The South Africans were a tad pleased!
We had asked Peter why when they were speaking Afrikaans they broke into English in parts; expecting a reply such as they didn't have a particular word or phrase in Afrikaans, or it was better described in English. His tongue in cheek reply? "Because we can!" followed by a hearty chuckle. That set the tone for the rest of the trip. Great fun.
Once the cars and baccies had finished blaring their horns up and down the main street (well, the only street really) I tried for some sleep. My local friendly mossie had other ideas. That bizzzing sound in one ear, was, with a swipe replaced by the same bizzzing sound at the other ear. Either it cleared off or unconsciousness took over, but I got some sleep and about half a dozen bites, before the 6am alarm went off.
We arrived around 9.20am, local time in Jo'burg collected our luggage and made our way to the domestic departures terminal for our Kulula airways flight to George. Africa! Wooo! Sorry, but it was exciting, to me anyhows to be in Africa.
Neil was approached by a very friendly and official looking chappie who was wearing a tour guide badge (an oval badge with the SA flag, and a name) who asked if we were travelling as a group and made off. We like sheep followed him, although Neil was not convinced this chappie was khosher. When we got to the desk he asked for our passports, which we stupidly handed over, except Neil! Then he realised we were flying Kulula and so off it was again back to where we had started. Once booked in, the inevitable happened and he asked for a tip. He was told, ever so politely that his services had not been asked for, he effectively hijacked our group and no, he wasn't getting anything.
Quick as a flash he set off in pursuit of his next quarry!
Our flight to George left aroudn 1.15pm on Kulula airways. Now if you've never flown with these guys you've never enjoyed or laughed so much during the safety demonstration. The announcer should have been on the stage. I can't remember all the quips, but he told us we'd better listen to the landing on water display as we'd be flying over some swimming pools and dirty rivers. He finished with 'Don't be leaving anything behind, although if the man in row 13 wants to leave his girlfriend, that will be fine!"
That and the green plane livery and the green leather seating make for a fun journey. It certainly brightened up the third plane flight in 12 hours for us!
We were met at the airport by Henk Blanckenberg, our local guide who'd be riding with us, and by Sam who'd be driving the mini-bus/van and trailer with our luggage in it. The scenery from the airport was just amazing....a jagged mountain range running left and right. That complimented the stunning costal scenery we'd viewed from the plane.
A stunning drive o
ver the mountains and brought us down to Oudtshoorn, where someone had left the oven door open. Boy was it warm. After a brief stop it was on to Prince Albert and Onse Rus Guesthouse. In the Cape Dutch style our home for the evening was just beautiful. Peter, our third local guide was on hand to start prepping the bikes which turned out to be great quality with lovely gel saddles.Then it was off to the local restaurant and THE rugby match...South Africa against England. As it turned out everyone turned out just as relieved that the game ended as with the result. It was possibly the most boring game of rugby I've ever seen. But hey, a win is a win. The South Africans were a tad pleased!
We had asked Peter why when they were speaking Afrikaans they broke into English in parts; expecting a reply such as they didn't have a particular word or phrase in Afrikaans, or it was better described in English. His tongue in cheek reply? "Because we can!" followed by a hearty chuckle. That set the tone for the rest of the trip. Great fun.
Once the cars and baccies had finished blaring their horns up and down the main street (well, the only street really) I tried for some sleep. My local friendly mossie had other ideas. That bizzzing sound in one ear, was, with a swipe replaced by the same bizzzing sound at the other ear. Either it cleared off or unconsciousness took over, but I got some sleep and about half a dozen bites, before the 6am alarm went off.
Day 1, October 19th 2007
I arrived at Belfast City Airport George Best place (don't you just love it when they mention old Georgie's name and then have to explain where it is!) at 1pm; we'd been told to be there no later than 1.30pm as we had to get our tickets and a photo had to be taken of the group, and of each participant and the charity rep.
Of course after dad had dropped me off and I entered the terminal there was no one else there. As the time wore on the
doubts crept in. Maybe it was the International? No. But why is no one else here? Hmmm. Should I ring someone? Thankfully my personal dilemma was interruped by Aideen Reilly, fellow participant. Before you could shake a big stick at something everyone else, including Kelly from Action Cancer, and Neil Lavery, our charity rep on the cycle had arrived. Donning our Action Cancer t-shirts we certainly gave the flying public something to look at, although like some of my colleagues in the law, they seemed to have deep pockets and short arms. No one volunteered any dosh.
We flew to Heathrow at 3.30pm, where Shaun McCord and myself were apprehended by Dr. Sophie, our trip doctor from Classic Tours. She turned out to be a great sport; really enthusiastic, torturing us about drinking lots of water, applying heaps of sun cream and being a great doc when Rashida has an accident on day two.
Then it was the wonderful overnight flight to Johannesburg. Always a joy. At least I wasn't sitting beside the bloke who snored the whole way, the person who passed wind at regular intervals or the bloke who kicked off his shoes and let those around him enjoy his smelly feet! Ah, the joys of the traveller.
Of course after dad had dropped me off and I entered the terminal there was no one else there. As the time wore on the
doubts crept in. Maybe it was the International? No. But why is no one else here? Hmmm. Should I ring someone? Thankfully my personal dilemma was interruped by Aideen Reilly, fellow participant. Before you could shake a big stick at something everyone else, including Kelly from Action Cancer, and Neil Lavery, our charity rep on the cycle had arrived. Donning our Action Cancer t-shirts we certainly gave the flying public something to look at, although like some of my colleagues in the law, they seemed to have deep pockets and short arms. No one volunteered any dosh.We flew to Heathrow at 3.30pm, where Shaun McCord and myself were apprehended by Dr. Sophie, our trip doctor from Classic Tours. She turned out to be a great sport; really enthusiastic, torturing us about drinking lots of water, applying heaps of sun cream and being a great doc when Rashida has an accident on day two.
Then it was the wonderful overnight flight to Johannesburg. Always a joy. At least I wasn't sitting beside the bloke who snored the whole way, the person who passed wind at regular intervals or the bloke who kicked off his shoes and let those around him enjoy his smelly feet! Ah, the joys of the traveller.
job done!
Well, I'm back! Bike ride completed. Lots of money raised for Action Cancer, and I'm not walking like a cowboy who's spent one week too many in the olde saddle! Overall it was just great. In all honesty there were two periods during which the whole bally lot of us would have gladly chucked our bikes down the nearest ravine and sodded off for a lovely warm bath and a cup of tea! But we didn't. As we told Henk, our local rep. (who also rode the whole way with us), thranness is a virtue which didn't allow us to give up, whatever the undulation (!!) or whatever the weather threw at us.
Thank you again to all to donated so generously. And to those who avoided donating, in spite of a reminder letter....well, if you're reading this...the Action Cancer Big Bus and the charity itself doesn't run on good wishes and fresh air!
I'm in the process of updating the blog on my adventures....I'll do so a day at a time otherwise you'll be scrolling down the screen for weeks to come!
Thank you again to all to donated so generously. And to those who avoided donating, in spite of a reminder letter....well, if you're reading this...the Action Cancer Big Bus and the charity itself doesn't run on good wishes and fresh air!
I'm in the process of updating the blog on my adventures....I'll do so a day at a time otherwise you'll be scrolling down the screen for weeks to come!
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