258 kilometres later, and I’ve cycled around the Bay (after cycling to the start from home in the cool pre-dawn). Starting at 5.30am, we got back to the finish line just before 5pm – not all of the 11 and a half hours was spent cycling, but enough of it that I’m very glad my bike is comfortable to ride. Limping slightly now, and the outside of my left leg is now burnt, as it was facing towards the sun the entire day. Most of the day was spent in pelotons, or chasing pelotons, and I’ve now learnt all sorts of fancy hand signals that I fully intend to apply in day to day life when I’m walking around with other people.
Tag: melbourne
Apparently they told all the other cyclists in Melbourne about the free breakfast in Fed Square as well, the swines. The hundred metre long line was crawling along at a fairly slow pace, so I opted to find breakfast elsewhere.
Yesterday took me on a 93km bike ride, out to the hippy markets at St Andrews and back. Beautiful warm weather, and a fantastic day to be out riding. Found an alpaca farm, and a goat. And I had two lunches, hoorah.
But now it’s back to work at the laptop. In my spare time, if I’m not on my bike, or doing any of those necessary things like obtaining food, eating food, or cleaning things, then I’m working on my thesis. Type type type… type type. Doesn’t make for many exciting adventures. But once it’s over there will be many adventures. But that is at an as yet undefined time in the future. Maybe December? I can hope.
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but why are there so many pigeons?
The roof of my neighbours house is a nice place to sit in the sun when I need a break from work. I found this out while I was lamenting the fact that the sun had gone away, so my east-facing window was letting in nothing but views over corrugated iron and hills-hoist suburbia, and the smell of fermenting yeast from the brewery. Deciding I needed a break in the sun, I stuck my head out of the window, and discovered there was a nice patch of light just around the corner. Socks off, I hopped out my window, swung around onto their roof, and enjoyed some time sitting in the warmth of the sunlight with my eyes closed. Now all I need is an extension cord, and I could sit out there and type to my hearts content. As long as nobody got suspicious.
Who knew there were so many cobblestone alleys in Melbourne? I certainly didn’t.
I only got around to reading up on the Paris-Roubaix after the Melburn-Roobaix race was over. It’s held annually in the mid-April rainy season, 260km of muddy riding over the cobblestoned roads and hard rutted tracks of northern France’s coal-mining region. Apparently the route has had to be changed in recent years, as many of the original cobbled sections are being repaired and replaced with smoother surfaces that have much less romance about them. The race was first held in 1896, but only picked up it’s ‘The Hell of the North’ tag in the first race post-WWI, with the riders racing through areas destroyed by the war (the Melburn-Roobaix ‘Hell of the Northcote’ tag doesn’t quite have the same ring to it).
“Let me tell you, though – there’s a huge difference between Flanders and Paris-Roubaix. They’re not even close to the same. In one, the cobbles are used every day by the cars, and kept up, and stuff like that. The other one – it’s completely different . . . The best I could do would be to describe it like this – they plowed a dirt road, flew over it with a helicopter, and then just dropped a bunch of rocks out of the helicopter! That’s Paris-Roubaix. It’s that bad – it’s ridiculous.”