Archive for the ‘Cycling’ Category


Cycling down the long, endless road, I was wrenched from my podcast by a toot. This was not a car – it was from above. A helicopter was flying above us. The toot could only have been for us. We were the only ones there. Outback cycling in Australia.

The Stuart Highway

The Stuart Highway

Today was cycling into the wind from resthouse to resthouse – between 30 and 50km apart. We ended up in a hidden little camping area and got chatting to a French couple. They’ve been travelling around Australia and New Zealand for several years, and had lots of stories to tell. They told of the road ahead. It is long, with a lot of nothing. I am looking forward to it.. ☺


His friend came up from Adelaide. It’s cold there. She said she will keep on driving north until the butter melts. Many people are heading north. For us, the weather is cooler, but for those coming from the Adelaide winter, it’s hot. And, yes, the butter melted.

The butter melts

The butter melts

We sat in front of their caravan, towed by the Nissan Patrol – our first ‘grey nomads’. They’d come all the way from Perth, through Adelaide, and were heading north to Darwin. They gave us water, and then some more, as we talked and talked. The time flew by. The plight of the aboriginals was a big topic. It is true, the ones we have seen are in a bad way. History has left this people drunk at the bottom of society, and there seems no way up.

The road was straight and mostly flat and we made good speed until a slight wind picked up. We are camping in a little river bed next to a camping ground and pub. It was lovely cooking outside, and watching the stars. The outback is beautiful.

A long way to go

A long way to go


Clement and I followed the Stuart Highway to my school-friend Bec’s house 30km out of Darwin. We experienced a string of firsts on this, the next very different leg of the adventure. The new orchestra of birds – familiar for me, new and exotic for Clement. The ‘fuck-off you wanker!’ abuse that cyclists get dished out all the time from motorists in Australia. Clement’s introduction to Aussie Rules football as we kick a footy around the back yard. And an amazing dinner with food we haven’t seen for so, so long.

Is there a resemblance here? :-)

Is there a resemblance here? 🙂

Bec and I spent the late evening looking through our old school magazines, spotting us and our class-mates – the girls with their frizzy hairdos and the boys with their haystack ones – so popular in the 80s. It’s been almost 30 years. Ouch!

It was great to see Dad again, who came up from Adelaide to meet me. When I see him again I will really be in the home stretch – in the last kilometres before Adelaide. The end is nigh, and I am excited and scared at the same time.


Yes. With a little break, it’s time for another video – probably my second to last one.. Indonesia and Timor Leste are beautiful. A fantastic end to the trip before the last leg in Australia. I hope you like the video!


‘Sure! You can come along!’
The sailors of the Darwin to Dili yacht race were sitting around the table drinking, laughing and telling stories. One of them will be returning to Darwin, and Clement and I are allowed to join them. A dream come true!

Darwin to Dili trophies

Darwin to Dili trophies

Today’s cycling was a dusty affair. I popped over the high pass into a new, much drier valley, and over a second little pass into the dry, Australian-like landscape. Timor has two climates, and the border is the mountains. It is fascinating to see everything change so suddenly. Water is the bringer of life.

The green middle valley

The green middle valley

The dry side

The dry side


Today was a ride up from the beach into the heavens – over the highest mountains in Timor Leste. Its good to climb again – and to climb on a half descent road. Riding in the sun, it was a lovely slow climb to a less hot night at just below 2000m.

On the way up

On the way up

The road just got better and better. Approaching and leaving the town of Same, I had pristine new road which made climbing a breeze. Even the road in construction about 5km out of Same was pretty good. I spent the climb listening to podcasts and trying not to get my earphones stuck in my ears.

Mountain road

Mountain road

Mountains

Mountains

My place of residence tonight is with a family in the mountains. I spent the evening talking to the grandpa in Indonesian – one of my last chances to use the language for a while.. Tomorrow Dili again, and then we’ll see how I get to Darwin, Australia.


‘It’s coming! It’s coming!’
I lie on the bamboo bed structure under the straw roof as the guy pokes the tweezers deep into my ear. I expect the unexpected every day in East Timor. Today it’s not a Tae Kwon Do class on the road deep in the mountains. Today I’m having the rubber piece from my earphones extracted from deep within my ear. It took two hours to get it out.

My ear doctor

My ear doctor

Clement has left. His rim on his back wheel is almost dead, and he didn’t want to venture further on the bad road along the coast, and then into the high mountains. He’s returning to the northern coast and on to Dili. I’ll meet him again there.

He might have been better off coming with me. The road got better slowly. It still had it’s fair share of deep road-wide puddles and mud, and the odd river crossing or two, but it also had a stretch of a few kilometres where I could scoot along at over 30 km/h. It was heaven.

River crossing - the bridge is visible on the left

River crossing – the bridge is visible on the left

The narrow road

The narrow road

I’m staying with a lovely family on the south coast, getting near to my climb into the mountains. No swimming here though. Big crocodiles apparently.


‘Here we are!’
A classic proclamation by Clement as we stood in the mud – the road ending in a quagmire. In the middle of nowhere at the end of a diabolic road we looked from the ankle deep mud down to the uncrossable river. The real road turned off a few hundred metres back, up a rocky scree to cross a pristine bridge. The going is slow on the south coast.

The mud bath (one of many)

The mud bath (one of many)

The bridges are amusing – in the middle of the scree slopes and mud baths stands a bridge (actually many on this road) with perfect bitumen. At the start of the bridge is a sign – funded by the European Union. There was one bridge only half funded by the European Union. The bridge stopped ubruptly in the middle of the river – a river crossing was necessary.

The bridge half funded by the European Union

The bridge half funded by the European Union

We met a Swiss cyclist today – our first in ages – cycling from Switzerland to Australia. He travelled east all the way to Alor Island (what I was trying to do, but ran out of time). Quite an experience. After our meet, we knew more what to expect of the road ahead. The road slowly improved to one that (for brief moments) allowed cycling at speeds of up to 15km/h. My tyre couldn’t handle the road though, and exploded. I expect fewer exploding tyres moving forward.

We were plucked off the street as it got dark this evening, and welcomed into a home, given corn and biscuits as a pre-dinner snack before a lovely, copious meal for the hungry cyclists. Great people!


About 5km of bad road he said. Another said 100km of bad road or 12 hours by bus. Well, we haven’t left the crappy road yet, and it is spectacularly dreadful. It also bucketed down today as we pushed our bikes up and down a steep, rocky, muddy, riverbed-like surface.

The bumpy road

The bumpy road

We also changed our brake pads, and have almost used the new ones. Even walking next to the bike as it bumps and jumps over the rocks and slurps through the thick mud, you have to use the brakes – and they squeak and scream out as they die, killing the rims in the process. Then pushing the bike up the river floes requires stopping (with full brakes) on a rock before mustering energy to scale the next one.

We are staying with a lovely family in a traditional house – I’ll call it a pointy house. A really cool wooden structure on stilts – high above the ground.

They tell us that the crap road ends in 10km. I kind of think the good road that may or may not follow will be of the quality of the roads yesterday. This means cycling may be possible, and reaching speeds of 10km/h is also on the cards.

Our humble abode for the night

Our humble abode for the night


And there we were, on the road in the middle of the jungle in Timor Leste, practicing Tae Kwon Do with 30 students. They held out the pad and I executed a turning roundhouse kick. We did some forms (patterns of movements) together on the road. They did the same style that I had studied 25 years ago – and this in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Timor Leste keeps surprising.

Tae Kwon Do class

Tae Kwon Do class

‘That road doesn’t go to Lospalos,’ said one guy. Another said it does, but not for cars – only for motorbikes and bicycles. We gave it a try – a beautiful road through grassy plains bordering a lake, dotted with houses here and there. Oh – and there was a challenging bridge.

The tricky bridge

The tricky bridge

The tricky bridge

The tricky bridge

The tricky bridge

The tricky bridge

Grassy plain

Grassy plain

Satellite dish

Satellite dish

Again today was not rich in kilometres travelled – the road was muddy and bumpy – and peaceful, tranquil and beautiful. After the high altitude plain we passed into the forest exactly on the border between two weather regions. On the right was sunshine. On the left were the darkest of clouds and rain. Tomorrow the road leads south. More rain is in store.