It was a bad ball bearing day. New ones were fitted to Richard´s front hub, and I had new pedals for my bike, as no more new bearings were to be found. Thus refurbished, we bade fond farewell to Ramon and his family, getting up extra early to wave them off to their respective workplaces. Mother Tina saw us off with presents of chocolate rabbits and easter eggs to complement our new collection of cuddly toys. A few kilometers later I chuckled when I bit into my chocolate egg to discover a small plastic spanner and a hoard of sugar ball [View Full Entry]

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Having entrusted virtually all our clothing to some unfortunate to launder, we left San Jose de Jachal, the cleanest, most neatly-pressed cyclists that you could hope to meet - a futile gesture, if ever there was one. Our road took us up to a hilltop where stood a monument to local poet and gaucho, Buenaventura Luna. What a marvellous name; I think I might adopt it. One of his poems was reproduced in a tiled mosiac, but I noticed that one of the tiles at the foot of a column was incorrectly placed. There was a good reason for this: in [View Full Entry]

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Fully laden with food, snacks, fuel and water, we set off early from Mendoza bound once again for Uspallata. No, we haven´t gone mad; Uspallata forms a natural crossroads where the road from Chile meets the two routes to Mendoza and the road northwards towards San Juan and beyond. Previously we had taken the fastest route to Mendoza, and now we were returning to Uspallata along the isolated and unmade road through the Villavicencio Natural Park. As we rode out of the city, the snow-capped Andes stood at our left shoulders, but soon mountains closed in all around us. Eagles circled [View Full Entry]

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To combat jet lag, a little light exercise is recommended. So, on that basis, cycling over the Andes from Santiago to Mendoza should do the trick. So, after a day of bike building and trying to keep awake during the day rather than at night, we departed the rather pleasant little town of Los Andes and pedalled nervously towards the mountains looming ahead. Our first stop was at Rio Blanco, not so much a town or even a village, just a general area which happened to have an out-of-season ski centre. It seemed very Tyrolean and we passed a pleasant evening [View Full Entry]

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This short episode brings us to the very end of the Australian chapter and ushers in a new chapter, a new continent and a new half-century. As expected we cruised into Sydney by train. All very cycle friendly. No need to ring the Punjab 28 times trying to get an affordable train ticket and make a booking for one of the two available bike spaces. En route we stayed with fellow touring cyclists: Tania and Pat; currently planning a tour in Europe and Canada and now in possession of numerous tips and a shopping list of indispensible articles they will probably [View Full Entry]

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A little update from Katoomba in the heart of the Blue Mountains, as the Australian chapter of our journey comes to a close. From Tumut we made our way via Wee Jasper, Crockwell and Abercrombie River Park to Oberon; generally riding through farmland, of sparse population, whether it be trees, people or livestock. There were undulations a-plenty, with an upward trend, of course. Our first stopping point was at Wee Jasper, which is indeed wee. As I passed the tiny, house-like school I noticed a chalk sign reminding the would be pupil(s) that school was restarting that week and that Sa [View Full Entry]

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It's amazing what a hot shower and a couple of bottles of riesling can do for you. Clean and refreshed, we departed Jindabyne to head for a wilderness camp just beyond Threbdo. By "just beyond" I mean 6 km uphill to Dead Horse Gap, then 10 km down hill to Leather Barrel Creek - our home for the next two nights. Sounds innocuous, but we had decided to walk to the summit of Mount Kosciuszko, the highest mountain in Australia at 2228 metres. And so the following day we cycled back to Thredbo (10 km up the hill, and 6 km [View Full Entry]

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There is a lovely road which passes through the Alpine and Snowy River National Parks as it crosses from Buchan in Victoria to Jindabyne in New South Wales. The road is remote; more than half of its 180 km length is dirt track and it climbs steadily to peak at 1343 metres at the 150 km mark. Just a few 4WD vehicles pass along this way, plus the occasional lunatic cyclist. Within the protected park areas dense bush runs down to the roadside and extends for miles around; outside the park territory, rolling farmland stretches away for ever. There are no [View Full Entry]

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...she shall bring snow. Not around here she don't; more like a forty degree wave of heat from the furnace-like interior. So, to avoid frying, we are up with the cockatoos and cycling by daybreak. This strategy is working remarkably well, delivering comfortable rides in cool temperatures and on quiet roads, and arrival at destination by lunchtime, thus giving us the afternoon and evening for assorted domestics and relaxing. The major disadvantage of the early shift is the legion of ravenous mosquitoes queued up outside the tent waiting for the first succulent limb to emerge. So, by this me [View Full Entry]

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Happy New Year from Melbourne, having come full circle around Tasmania. Since our last update we progressed westwards from New Norfolk, stopping firstly at Mount Field National Park. There we had a super day, cycling up from the campsite to Lake Dobson, a three-hour-15 km uphill through Eucalyptus rain forest, moist and cool, then through mixed forest, where the air was fresher and the mighty gum trees allowed a few other plants to share the light. As we climbed higher, sub alpine plants appeared - shrubs with minute leaves, dusted with scatterings of tiny white flowers. Finally, we reache [View Full Entry]

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