The Tour - Day 7 to 9 (THE END!)

After far too little sleep (about 3 hours, a waste of a hotel room really!) I was up at 3 in the morning for a quick blast through the streets of Dieppe to get on my ferry. The ferry took about 4 hours during which I actually managed to get a few more minutes of sleep. After about 10 months I was finally back on British soil and for the first 2 minutes it felt great. After that I made it onto British roads and was reminded that drivers here really don't give a crap about cyclists. To emphasise the point a French car was beeped for not immediately overtaking me as we left Newhaven.

As I was staying at Pete's that night and I arrived in London at about 2 I decided to have a tourist-y ride around the centre. I crossed the river to Buckingham Palace, rode down the mall, through Trafalgar Square, past St. Paul's and down to London Bridge.... hence all the photos. I ended up at Pete's not long before he arrived home from work. That weekend I stayed in London and had my first rest day quickly followed by my second.

After my two rest days I was back on the bike for the last leg. As I had become used to not sleeping in the tent I decided to leave all of my camping gear at Pete's house to save weight. I pre-booked a hotel in Nuneaton to spend my last night at before home. The route from London to home was pretty much straight up Watling street all the way.

Despite the strong headwind all day I got to Nuneaton quite early and had time to chill in my room for a while until I was ready to go and destroy the biggest steak on the menu at the restaurant next door. The next day I had only just over 70km to go so I woke late and ate my crappy Travellodge breakfast and got back on the road. Even though it was only a short distance the last day wasn't brilliant as the wind was even stronger and more directly in my face than the day before!

Above is the route that I took, marked with the stops I made each night and below are the statistics for the last 3 days.


Day 7 - Dieppe to Southgate
Distance: 124.85km       Time: 6:09                Average Speed: 20.29kmph


Day 8 - Southgate to Nuneaton
Distance: 147.78km       Time: 6:39                Average Speed: 22.18kmph


Day 9 - Nuneaton to Stone, HOOOOME!
Distance: 71.69km         Time: 3:17                Average Speed: 21.76kmph


So that is it, my travelling adventure (great big holiday) now all finished. This is the last blog entry , I hope you enjoyed it or at least tolerated it or managed to ignore it. I guess now it is time for me to get one of those job things and stop avoiding life or whatever...

Le Tour - Jour quatre à six

After the previous day I was expecting to wake up relishing my day off. Instead I decided that I shouldn't completely waste a whole day and should at least cycle a few towns north. After 20 minutes on the bike I realised that my legs weren't in too much pain and more importantly neither was my ass and so I called off the rest day. 

It ended up being a good decision as after the first few kilometres the roads flattened off and stayed that way all day. As I got near to the end of the day I picked a town on my map to stay in, Patay. Now, I cannot stress this enough, FUCK PATAY. It was marked on my map which means it is a relatively large town but when I arrived I couldn't see signs for a campsite, quite unusual in France. I was told that the nearest campsite was probably about 25 km back the way I had come... at this point I had done over 150km and didn't really feel like going another 25 in the wrong direction. Instead of doing that I went in search of a hotel. The town had 2 buildings that looked like hotels and in both I was told "non, l'hôtel est fini". Brilliant. So the nearest open hotel... 30km in the wrong direction.

Eventually I found out that there was a hotel in a town about 10km away and thankfully it was actually still a hotel and had a room free. In the end I rode just over 100 miles (random switch from metric to imperial for no reason) that day and had never been so grateful to have a bath and a real bed! The hotel was actually well priced considering that it was quite a fancy place with beamed ceilings and strange textile padded walls. In the end I got carried away in the restaurant (I hadn't eaten much other than pasta and baguettes up to this point) and spent nearly as much as the cost of the room in food and drink. 

After the previous day I woke up feeling surprisingly good again and so decided that I would rather get home quicker than bother with any rest days. The next day was thankfully uneventful and took me to about 100 miles from the coast, unfortunately back in the tent again. I planned to do two nice easy days up to Dieppe to take the ferry. 

Typical breakfast

Of course with all my plans I changed my mind and for a really quite stupid reason. About 10km into the day it started to absolutely hammer down with rain. Instead of sticking to the plan and doing a short day in the rain I decided to push on and ride all the way to Dieppe in one day through the rain. This didn't go so well. I managed to get lost several times, and got my second puncture. The puncture conveniently happened as I was riding down a small section of motorway  to avoid a 10km detour whilst trying to hide from the police. Luckily I didn't have to sit in sight as I repaired it as I could slip into a nearby wood to shelter and do the repair. 

My Korean mask (courtesy of Katie) protecting me from the
polluted French countryside but unfortunately not from the rain

By the time I finally reached Dieppe it was about half past 7 and as I went to get something out of my bags I realised that the manufacturer's idea of waterproof was obviously very different to mine. All of my stuff was soaked and dyed red from my shirts so I decided I would stop in a hotel for the night again. When I got into the room I wasn't the happiest person so I filled the bin with wet stuff and anything heavy that I could do without.


So that was the French bit done, nearly 800km in 6 days. Here are the statistics for the second lot of 3 days.


Day 4 - Châtillon-sur-Indre to Tournoisis
Distance: 161.26km       Time: 6:57                Average Speed: 23.19kmph


Day 5 - Tournoisis to Anet
Distance: 135.59km       Time: 5:28                Average Speed: 24.80kmph


Day 6 - Anet to Deippe
Distance: 161.43km       Time: 6:55                Average Speed: 23.31kmph

Le Tour - Jour une à trois

So with my brilliant planning and preparation I was ready to leave. I had a new bike, all the gear I would need (I went slightly crazy with the last of my cash in a bike shop) and it was all strapped to the back/stuck to my skin inappropriately tightly. 

As I had done so little training I though I would start of with a few easy days to ease into the ride, probably having a rest day every 2 days. As with all my plans I completely ignored it as soon as I had started. The first day was quite tough and after nearly 2 weeks of overcast and slightly cool weather at my Grandad's, France picked my first day to give me full sunshine and nearly 30°C. This weather, the lack of training and the fact that some of the worst terrain of the whole route would be in the first 2 days meant that halfway through the second day I was starting to think I had bitten off far more than I could chew. The type of high rolling hills that I was on was becoming very disheartening with every crest giving a view of the next hill. I was beginning to wonder where the boring flat France of the long car journeys of my childhood had gone!

Luckily at the end of the second day I found a campsite in the garden of a pub right next to a lake in a typical small French town. Sitting with a beer as the sun set meant I didn't really care that I hadn't gone as far as the previous day. I also tried to remind myself that I hadn't planned to ride as far as I had done and that I had planned a rest day after one more day in the saddle.

On my third day everything seemed to be going well and the terrain had started to level out slightly. Obviously it was time for my first problems to strike. Just as I was looking for a place to get lunch, about 60km into the day, I had my first puncture. Luckily I had prepared for this and after unpacking all my bags on  the side of the road I found one of my spare inner tubes. It was at this point that I discovered that the pump that my Grandad had kindly donated couldn't actually give me the pressure I needed for the tyre! I spent about 25 minutes in the midday heat desperately trying to get just enough air in the wheels to lift the rim off the road. Eventually I managed this and had to ride 20km on a still very flat tyre until I could find a place to buy a pump that worked. 

The problems of the day weren't quite over though as at the end of the day when I was ready to stop the campsite in the town I had reached was closed. Using my terrible French I managed to ask some old ladies for the nearest one and was told it was either 5km back the way I had come or about 9 or 10km north. Going back didn't seem like an option so I pushed on. 9 or 10km later I reached a signpost for the town I was aiming for... it was another 10km away. Anyway I made it and collapsed into my tent cursing old French ladies and their lack of concept of distance.


Some stats for the first 3 days if anyone is interested...


Day 1 - La Concarde, Queyssel to Brantôme
Distance: 104.21km     Time: 5:11                Average Speed: 20.04kmph


Day 2 - Brantôme to Montrollet
Distance: 99.93km       Time: 5:14                Average Speed: 19.08kmph


Day 3 - Montrollet to Châtillon-sur-Indre
Distance: 135.35km     Time: 6:07                Average Speed: 22.08kmph

Queyssel

So as the theme of the trip so far was badly thought out ideas that somehow managed to work out fine I decided it would be appropriate to end in the same way. To make a grand finale I picked a bad idea that I had when I was about 9 or 10 and decided to fulfil it. My Granddad has lived in the south of France, east of Bordeaux, since before I was born and as I child (well as a younger child) I used to watch the tour de France and want to ride my bike home from my Granddad's... so now seemed the perfect time to give it a shot. My intense preparations for this stupid task was visiting the gym 9 times to do 30 minutes on the static bike. After that how could I fail...

After flying into Paris I took the TGV to my Granddads to see him for the first time in over 3 years! I spent nearly 2 weeks down at my Granddads eating, drinking, reliving childhood memories and ruining any fitness I had picked up in New Zealand. 

Eventually I sorted out the gear I would need for the ride and drew a straight line on a one page map from Queyssel to Dieppe. I figured if a tourist map could get me and Pete through Vietnam then the same would work in France. Luckily the weather for the whole time I had been down there had been overcast and relatively cool, not great for a holiday but perfect for cycling. After one 25km bike ride to test out my fancy new cycling shoes I decided I was definitely ready to set off on a 1000km plus bike ride...

Queenstown

There has been a bit of a gap since I managed to write my last entry, partly due to a broken netbook, partly due to spending nearly 2 weeks in the French countryside 5 miles from the nearest shop and partly due to spending nearly 2 weeks living on a bike, but more on that stuff later. After the unexpected stop at Tekapo I managed to get on a coach the next day that was going over the mountains to Queenstown.

Due to the extra day it took to get down and the awkward bus times to get back up to Christchurch for my flight back towards home it would only be a brief visit to Queenstown. Luckily it was enough to enjoy the town and the company of a familiar face. Whilst in town I managed to meet up with Jess, a friend from back in Stone, who took me to some of the better bars around town and also up one of the nearby ski slopes.

Thanks to Jess I managed to save a lot of money by borrowing all the snowboarding gear I would need (except for a board and boots thanks to my extra large feet). We went up to the Remarkables, one of the closest ski fields to Queenstown for my first taste of snowboarding. Thanks to Jess and one of her friend's amazing help I was soon able to turn and make it down the (baby) slope without falling.

Though the time up on the slopes was a lot of fun, it left me in pain for the next week! Apparently all that falling down practice takes its toll on the body. After leaving Queenstown I returned to Christchurch for one last night before hopping on my plane first to Kuala Lumpur and then onwards to Paris. Luckily despite my cheap-ass seats on AirAsia my flights were actually not that bad due to having the whole row to myself both time. The incredible views across the south island of New Zealand also made the start of the flight interesting

During my brief stopover in KL I fully embraced the culture by watching Soul Plane in my hotel room and eating Pizza Hut. The only thing I really did whilst in KL was get a photo of a bizarre motorbike graveyard that I noticed when we visited previously...

Palmerston North to Lake Tekapo

After a good three months it was finally time to leave Palmerston North for good. Luckily I planned my trip to Taupo to get me back to my little flat in time to pack up and properly clean the place. I didn't plan for a last night out that ended after 4 in the morning with slight police involvement and statue climbing... This meant my well planned cleaning and packing day was spent sleeping and nursing an impressive and well earned hang over. Somehow I managed to pack (throw everything into my bag) and clean (sort of) and get out only half an hour late. For some reason the reception staff paid me my deposit back without even checking the room, apparently I look clean...

My first aim was to get all the way down to Queenstown on the South island so that I could finally try snowboarding. The first step of this was a coach down to visit Wellington again, a city which is a lot more appealing with more people and some sunshine. It was only a flying visit so not much to report. I was only here thanks to my need to save money hence taking the ferry to the south island rather than a plane. In the end the ferry was a great choice as the crossing between the islands is a really picturesque trip through the narrow channels of the Marlbourough Sounds. 

On the South side of the Cook Strait it was onto another coach for the next leg of the trip to Christchurch. my minimal preparation for my arrival here had at least picked a route to walk from the bus stop to the hostel I was going to stay at. What I hadn't planned for was the fact that the city centre of Christchurch is still partially abandoned and without power. The bus had arrived after dark and it turns out city centres with no lights and lots of boarded up or smashed windows feels like a zombie film waiting to happen. Luckily I avoided any earthquake zombies and made it to the hostel with only minimal police interference.

The next morning I was off on another coach finally bound for Queenstown. Unfortunately this is not how it worked out and halfway through the journey the bus stopped at the tiny village of Tekapo and we were told it was going no further. Apparently the snow between here (where I am writing this blog out of extreme boredom) and Queenstown is too much for the coach. Luckily there was a big hill to climb here with amazing views of the surrounding area and the brilliant turquoise lake. Be sure to full size the last picture to see just how isolated this area is! This stop has made a mess of plans but I am staying positive that tomorrow I will actually make it to Queenstown. In the mean time I will leave you to marvel at the fact that this blog is the first "live" one I have managed!

Taupo

To fill in the gap from the last blog I have spent about 3 months working on a project titled "Statistical inference of Malagasy settlement history via molecular coalescence simulations". If you want to know more about that then God help you. Anyway after spending so much time in Palmerston North I felt like I should see some more of the North island before I left. I settled on going up to great lake Taupo in the centre of the island.

The place is supposed to be really beautiful... unfortunately the weather was not on my side and all the time I was there it was completely overcast, windy and rainy. This meant that there were not the fantastic views of the mountains across the lake that Taupo usually boasts.  Luckily the scenery was really a secondary reason for visiting Taupo. The main reason was to scare the crap out of myself in various different ways. The first was a 47 meter bungy jump. Notice the completely fake smile in the picture and the fact that I had rolled my sleeves up. The bungy is advertised as a water touch jump and I didn't want to get my jumper too wet.

They do say that they can't guarantee a water touch for everyone. The next picture is the one from the bottom of my jump; judge for yourself whether I "touched" the water...

So thanks to that I spent the rest of the day soaked pretty much from head to toe. I bought the bungy as part of a package deal that also included a ride in a helicopter and a jet boat ride and a sky dive. Unfortunately the bad weather struck again and my sky dive was cancelled. This was really annoying for me, though I am sure my mum was happier to know that I didn't do it. The other activities slightly made up for the lack of skydiving as they were far more interesting than I had anticipated. They gave us 2 different views of the Huka falls, New Zealand's most visited natural attraction.

So this will be pretty much the last entry for the North Island, I head south tomorrow hopefully to see some snow.

Wellington

After Pete and Jess had left I spent one last day enjoying the sun and warm weather of Australia as due to me standard lack of planning I would be arriving at the start of the New Zealand winter. I had foolishly assumed travelling to New Zealand would be simple as it was one western country to another. It turns out the airline wouldn't let me board my flight without an onward ticket out of New Zealand. This led to me rushing around the airport to find a computer to buy a ticket on and then rushing around again to find a printer that would work. Eventually I got onto the flight and made it without any more problems to Wellington.

Since my accommodation in Palmerston North wasn't ready for me to move in for another day I spent a day looking around Wellington. However it seems that Easter (yes Easter I am that far behind) is a much bigger holiday over here than back in England. Wellington, the capital of New Zealand, was an utter ghost town with all the shops apart from McDonalds closed. Luckily there were some tourist attractions still open to occupy my day with.

First I took the famous red cable car from the city to the top of a hill overlooking the bay. At the top it turned out there was a plane-arium that was still open and since I had never been to one I decided to give it a go. As well as flying around space it also had a weird animated film about the space race that was incredibly disorientating to watch projected onto the ceiling.

Once I had taken the cable car back into the city I walked around a bit more embracing the cold weather before deciding to find an attraction with a roof and some heating. Luckily the Museum of New Zealand was nearby and free so I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around and learning what giant squid look like, how crappy earthquakes are and childishly giggling at certain exhibits. 

The next day I took a coach to Palmerston North the city (don't know who they are kidding it is a town) that would be my home for the next 3(ish) months. As a perfect welcome it was hammering down with rain when I arrived and when I got to the accommodation there was a sign on the door saying the reception was closed for Easter. Thankfully the sign wasn't completely true and there was a very bored man sitting there who gave me my key and neglected to tell me anything of use. It has to be said that I didn't quite get the sort of "extensive views of the city and surrounding areas" that I was expecting...

At this stage of the blog I was going to take a 3 month break but thanks to my brilliant timing (laziness) I can pretty much carry straight on as today is my last day at work, which is why I am using it to write this blog instead of working.

Hervey Bay and the end.

We spent much longer in Hervey Bay than we had planned. The town doesn't really have a lot going apart from being the town that most people leave on trips for Fraser Island from. Unfortunately neither Pete nor I had the funds for the trip and so we would have to spend a few days hanging around until Jess returned.

The best attraction of the town that we could find to visit was Vic Heslop's Shark Museum. Now don't be fooled by the name this was just a couple of small rooms filled with shark hating memorabilia. I know they aren't the most friendly creatures in the world but this guy really

 hated them and had killed hundreds. The crowning glory of the experience was a bunch of frozen sharks including a great white in a very low budget fake aquarium. 

There wasn't much else that happened during our stay apart from us spending some time fishing (feeding fish prawns) off a pier. And we had a meal time visited by another possum, this one much more forward and actually tried to get into the van.

Three nights later Jess had returned and it was time for me and Pete to finally part ways. After over 6 months of almost constant company it was an emotional farewell. I will take this opportunity to leave my soppy message of thanks to Pete; it was a brilliant journey and certainly wouldn't have been the same with anyone else so thank-you for letting me tag along on your trip.

Despite the misleading title this isn't quite the end yet. I will be working in New Zealand for 2 and a half months (now only another 2 weeks left thanks to my laziness at blog writing) before seeing a bit of the country. After that I have stupidly ambitious and terribly thought out plans for the end of the trip.

Campervan Leg 4 - Brisbane to Hervey Bay

Our route from Brisbane to Noosa took us down the Steve Irwin Highway, and past the glass house mountains, providing views very reminiscent of our journeys in parts of Laos and Vietnam (though luckily with better driving).

In Noosa we managed to stay in the car park of a hostel, entitling us to use of all of their facilities for only $20 a night. During our first day there we went for a walk along the sea front. The path showed more signs of destruction from the flooding in January. On the walk we spotted the front legs of some sort of tarantula in a hole in the ground. This led to us hunting them for about an hour, unfortunately not finding one to get a picture of. 

We stayed in Noosa for quite a bit longer than we had planned thanks to the price of the hostel parking being so much cheaper than everywhere else we had been. On our last night there we went out again and the next morning I was still feeling very drunk. Unfortunately I had also volunteered to drive us to Hervey Bay, this led to a driver that was finding life far too much fun and us flying over a mini round-a-bout that I swear appeared from nowhere.

Luckily we made it to Hervey Bay without further incident (or if there were further incidents I was too drunk to remember them). Whilst there me and Pete also discovered what is possibly the greatest board game ever created. Unfortunately as it is in Australia it costs a stupid amount and so had to stay in the shop (we did find Jess a diablo though, something I expect she is amazing at by now...).