Ah, Melbourne in the Spring

There is nothing quite like Melbourne in the spring - unless it is Melbourne in the autumn. Both wonderful times of year here when the afternoons are warm and sunny and the populace heartened by it.

Last Thursday I led a small troupe of tourists on one of my favourite rides - from the city to Eltham. Helen and Kym are over from Adelaide with H's cousin Ed and his son, Chris, from Canada. We met at a local bike shop where they hired bikes and headed the short distance to the cafe in Albert Park for huge chocolate and raspberry muffins and coffee. While enjoying the lake and the sparkling sun on the water we settled on a ride along the Yarra river towards Eltham.

The Canadians are, of course, used to riding on the "wrong" side of the road so it was a little disconcerting heading up a couple of roads, and the bike lanes very welcome when they appeared. It was a perfect day for a ride and the scenery at its best following the recent rain. The river was up, Dights Falls looked like falls and the trees and grasses green as green could be. We didn't see any wildlife except the birds which were in fine voice all the way. The bellbird population seems to be growing.

We all marvelled at the river traversing the suburbs of Melbourne, stopped to admire the Children's Farm and the Abbotsford Convent grounds and headed off. Fuelled by the muffins we discussed where to have lunch - Heide gallery. When it came to it I missed the turn off and we headed past on to Westerfolds Park. Kym's bike had a puncture, quickly and ably repaired by Ed, and I did a quick recce to confirm that the cafe in the park was open. It was. However, as it is not yet the height of summer the only food available was scones, plain, berry or chocolate. So that's what we had for lunch.

Onwards to Eltham, and the coffee and book shop combined for another break before getting the train to Flinders Street. That is another much appreciated thing about Melbourne trails, they are so often near a train station at some point. Fortunately we were able to plunge through the peak hour commuters on the station to join yet another bike path and ride to St Kilda via Port Melbourne and the beach.

From St K I rode home picking up the final ingredients for our dinner while the others headed back to their apartment for a refreshing break before heading out to the wilds of Melbourne by car. Over dinner we relived the day (among other things ), made plans for the Australians to travel to Canada and the Canadians to return to Melbourne. I am sorry not to be heading to Adelaide to enjoy riding around that town over the next week or so with them.

One and all we had a joyous day, revelling in the bike trail, the variety in the landscapes we travelled and the perfect riding weather. Thank you, Melbourne

Touring by bike, heading south

Crossing the Parachilna Gorge, we head to Alpana station for the night, and seen to have left the rain behind at last. The run from Blinman to Alpana is a bitumen treat after the gorge, a very pleasing undulating run with the prospect of a cold beer and a hot shower on arrival. Then on the next morning to Wilpena Pound and a rest day. The vegetation in the flinders varies greatly, and the wildflowers are a sight to see as we traverse the country. There is an absence of road kill this time which makes for more pleasant riding. I presume this is because there is so much feed around and the animals don’t have to travel to get to it. We haven’t seem much wildlife at all, living or dead. That is we haven’t seen many animals, as we see plenty of birds and the birdsong is a joyous sound that accompanies us everywhere. Rest day - another massage to start the day, then a short walk to the old homestead and the lookout above it. Some of the riders head off to St Mary’s Peak, the higher lookout and a 20+K strenuous walk. I wonder what they think the word “rest” means? They do enjoy themselves though and was lyrical about the views from the Peak. The Pound is an extraordinary place, with a pretty primal feel to it, it looks like it is pushing upwards so it is a surprise to learn that what we see are the remnants of a much higher range of yore. Rested we head back across the Willochra Plain on this side of the range back to Hawker. Here my sister Emma joins us for the night. She and Cameron are driving the same area and our paths cross. As a former tour cyclist several are pleased to see her turn up. I certainly am though I have my tent up and have missed the opportunity to sleep in the rather spacious camper trailer. Ah well. It is hard to believe that the tour is coming to an end, one just seems to get underway and be enjoying oneself when the end starts to loom on the horizon. So we ride to Quorn for the last night dress up dinner, a last hurrah to cement new friendships and promises to see each other on the next ride - if not sooner. There is the offroad ride next year in the Flinders to look forward to in autumn. There is still a ride in the morning so I decide to call it a night early(ish). I don’t know why exactly but I am more tired by this tour than I have felt in the past. Perhaps it is just not riding this year as much as I would like to, perhaps something else. Who knows? I take the short option in the morning and miss the ride over Horrock’s Pass. I know it would have been wonderful but it was also wonderful riding down the Pichi Richi valley. This time the Gulf is sparkling blue and the sun is warm. A fitting end to yet another adventure on the road. Rob has arrived from Melbourne, and believe it or not we head back to Hawker for the night.....

Touring by bike, heading north

The Bicycle SA annual (onroad) tour headed out into the Flinders Ranges this year, a loop ride out of Port Augusta. Leisurely start to the day on day 1, with several people arriving from Adelaide by bus in time for picnic lunch and then heading up the hill. Great time to catch up with everyone from previous rides and meet a few new people. It is mandatory in my experience that the ride starts with a hill. You would expect this riding out of Adelaide as it is surrounded by hills and up seems the only way out, but I thought it was lat around Port Augusta - not so. We follow the lovely Pichi Richi valley, taken also by the stem train to Quorn, our first stop. Then over the Willochra Plain to Hawker and a night in the caravan park that remains a stranger to grassy sites. No grass here, only small pebbles and softer ground than you might usually find thanks to recent rains. So putting up the tent in the drizzle with the pegs coming out as fast as I can bang them in is just a little bit of a drag. Common sense prevails, change the angle, start again and get on with it. Hawker to Parachilna – only thing to say is that is is 90Km of slow steady uphill road. The rain cleared at lunchtime so we dried out riding along (we being those of us slow enough to take quite a while to get there). The Ranges are amazing to see, green and damp after the drought of recent years. I am sorry not to be travelling off road to see it all a bit closer, but glad to be on bitumen and not getting bogged in the wet spots. Parachilna is a dot on the map – a pub and not much else. We camp nearby with our shower truck parked in the middle of the road out the front. Delicious dinner at the local pub, which is a bit of a foodies haunt regardless of being in the middle of nowhere, accompanied by a wild thunderstorm which does nothing to dampen our spirits. The cycle tour fraternity are a hardy lot. Waking to a drier day we head out to cross the ranges via the Parachilna Gorge, confident about the roads and the creek crossings after a final report from the good Russell, who has completed a final recce.. Well it sounded good in theory. First creek crossing, make it almost to the other side aware of the creek bed and rocks shifting under my wheels. Almost, but not quite – I can report that the creek was a little faster and stronger flowing than I thought and the water very cold. As soon as I go in I leap out exclaiming at the temperature, pick up the bike, get a jacket on to avoid freezing as I dry on the road and off we go again with the friendly laughter and banter to encourage me. I walked the rest my confidence but not enthusiasm having dimmed a little. I am yet to see the pictures, but I believe they exist. The gorge is an adventurous ride that I would not have missed for all the tea in China. Thank you for the fluffy duck I have been awarded (suitably named Duncan). Duncan now resides firmly fixed to the handlebars and enjoys his travels immensely.

Beyond Paris

I didn't just stop dead in Paris, I went on from there to Dusseldorf to meet my old school friend, Dinah, and spend the week with her at the fashion buying fiesta. At the end of it we went for a couple of days to Koblenz, where the Rhine and Moselle Rivers meet. It rained like mad the first day there, but we managed to get to aldstadt and have a bit of a look around. The weather improved and we had a much better day the following day. Dinah had to fly out a day ahead of me so we got the train part of the way back to Dusseldorf and spent the day at Andernach - a town that had been recommended to us as worth a look. It was indeed. We left Dinah's luggage at the station after waiting for 20 minutes in a queue to ask the station master to look after it for the day. After a very pleasant walk around the town, along the river and lunch in the market place I farewelled Dinah and went back to the river having seen that there was a late afternoon trip to the local geyser. That was a surprise - I had no idea there was one in Germany. Then a quick train trip back to Koblenz and another trip to Aldstadt to find somewhere to eat. I am never good at deciding where to eat, and then I saw the Tapas bar/cafe so of course when in Germany eat Spanish. There was a Spanish family at the next table and they seemed to be enjoying their meal so I took that as a good sign. I had been sitting there for a while when I was finally noticed and the waitress took my order. I hoped that I had remembered enough to order something decent to eat (turned out I had). After quite a while waiting again I was asked if I would mind moving to a smaller table. There wasn't one when I sat down and of course I didn't mind at all. After that the waitress must have thought I was all right as she brought me a glass of wine gratis and my food materialised. Just as well it came when it did as I was very hungry by then. Next day, last one in Europe, I met Rob on his return from England, at the Mainz railway station. There had been a bomb scare in the locker room so we had to wait a little while before leaving our luggage there for the day. For the first time we could not find a map at the railway station so we loosely followed directions to the tourist information centre, which turned out to be a very small temporary office in a tricky location sort of near the river. Armed with the map we then found the Gutenburg Museum which was fascinating and during lunch worked out how to see the Chagall stained glass windows in a church on the way back to the station. Great finish to the trip. Then off on the quick train direct to Frankfurt airport and onto Soeul for a five hour break and home at last just in time for breakfast with everyone at the market and a couple of films at the film festival ..