Eygalieres Days
Topic: Europe
My cousin has a shack at Eygaliers in Provence.  After riding Alpe d Huez we need a little R n R so along with a couple more people we headed down there for a week. Steven, Andrew, Bev, Doff and Victoria would head off to see the sights at the crack of ten, leaving Mick and I free to get up and start our busy schedule.  Bev being an early riser would have walked to the bakery  and acquired croissants which Mick and I would then consume for breakfast. A bit of procrastinating followed by a quick dip in the pool, and then the major decision of the day, Which restaurant should we consume " Le Menu" the all in set price French lunch. A bit of Bike riding, lunch and then back to the pool for another quick dip and a spot of Stig Larrson or John Krakauer depending on the mood. Late in the day the others would return from a hard day of Museum, Market, Sightseeing, whatever with food and wine for dinner . Ive just about recovered from the arduous days on the mountain but I have to go now and slip a bit more pool and book in just to make sure.

 

Provence Forecast

Pool temp 30 Deg

Weather Hot

Sky Sunny

Every Day

Click the pic for more

From lile-de-France to Little Somalia.
Topic: Europe

 

My mate has hired a place in l'île de la Cité for a week. Its the  kind of place that you would to imagine all Paris is like. Its in on an island in the trendiest part of town, looks out over the Seine on one side and over a Cafe, Boulangerie and a Tebac on the other side. There are 20 cheese shops with in 200 meters. The cafe down the road does an excellent petite dejunier  with waiters who just have the correct amount of French arrogance. His place is on the first floor so you can hear the street life below, the Emir of Qatar owns a palace,  just down the road, and you expect to see some one making one of those eat pray whatever  flicks when you walk out the door.           

Meanwhile Shane and I are holed up in Little Somalia just down the road physically, but another world away in reality. Our twin room in the Best Western has a whole 13 square meters of space. Pace it out sometime, its almost big enough to get two single beds in if you stack all the furniture in one corner. Its on the first floor and comes with a great street view, off a wall.

Little Somalia has 10,000 hair beading shops on one street. The streach from Gare d Ost three blocks to our hotel.Apart from Kebab shops they seem to be the only industry apart from the worlds oldest profession along with the worlds oldest practitioners. Forty euros buys you a lot of experience around here.  Its not all bad though, When every thing is shut in real Paris you can still get a Kebab and chilli sauce with the crazy people wandering the streets down here. They have real shops selling stuff people can afford and you don't feel threatened even late at night. Go to the Kebab shop twice, pay, and don't talk to your imaginary friend, your a valued customer.
    In between the two worlds around the Pompidou centre there are some great bars, full of life late into the night. We propped here a couple of times after a hard day of site seeing for a couple of draughts and the odd Calvados. The best part is no matter how late it is you can always grab one  of the free Velieb bikes spread around town to get yourself home

Just remember they drive on the wrong side of the road, even at night and you'll be fine.

Thanks to Mick for the photo

 

I've been to Bali too
Topic: Asia
                Cue Linda, she lives in a tropical resort and runs a hotel complex already so if she wants to relax the last thing she needs to do is invite a bunch of free loaders to Noosa.  I’m checking my email one day and here’s a invite to a birthday in Bali. They thought they would maybe get 15 people. The word goes out, there is a bit of networking on the airfares, and for $500 I’m in. So are 60 others, and the quite birthday party goes out the door.

 

                In my head I know it’s not true but in the back of my mind I’m still thinking of Bali as that mystical island in South Pacific the musical. Waves break on golden beaches while grass huts house the locals under coconut trees. I pick up Mandy on the way to the airport, we Qantas club it appropriating some coke for the 200ml scotch bottle I’ve bought in the duty free. Bloody budget airlines, once upon a time the free booze was the only upside of flying.  I’m a Bali virgin, Mandy on the other hand is a seasoned professional, Twenty Five trips plus some. We ignore the final call have another scotch then wander up to our gate. They start loading and when the queue thins out, we join the end only to hear our names called out. What’s the problem, we are in the line two hardened travellers with a thousand flights between us, and where getting on a flight to, Auckland. Opps. We rush off to our now empty correct gate. The Lady who checked us in looks at Mandy with a smile and says “I knew you were a trouble maker”.

                Six hours later we are there. The rest of the crew have been at Club Med for the day. Sixty bucks for all the parasailing, diving, surfing, swimming, waterskiing, booze, bikeri____________ Did someone say “Booze”.  The bloke handing out the towels will recover after being crushed in the stampede to the bar. The staff where heard to mutter later on in the day “There worse than the Russians”  No one is up to meet us when we rock up at 10pm except Dicko who joins us but has a coffee.

                Where in Seminyak, which I was told was a bit out of town. The hotel is modern, lovely and everything works. It could have been dropped from space to anywhere in the world and you would have no idea where you were. It has two pools and some grand villas which the birthday girl is ensconced in. My dreams of beaches and palm trees have evaporated to be replaced with memories of suburban Mumbai, traffic included. Taxi’s are cheap which is good as most of your time in them is spent standing still. Just outside the door is a great little strip of cafe’s, tee shirt shops , Bars, and Viagra sellers. In my youth I was offered Tiger Balm, now I get hit with “Viagra, Cialis, Cheeeep” every ten feet.  One pleasant surprise is the food. It was all great. I ate everything including the salads and fresh fruit which is generally a no no in these sort of places. You could get whatever you want. Fresh Sushi, Greek food, Mee Goring, Satays, Cesar Salads, Steaks. There were even a large selection of KFC’s, Macca’s, and Burger Kings for the blokes on footy trips.  That night we have the big birthday in the villa. The Couple renew their wedding Vows, and Cheese presents his wife with a My husband is awesome tee shirt. The sixty of us are treated to sucking pig, fire dancers, cocktails and Bintang for everyone.  When I leave there is only the troublesome girl from the airport and the birthday girl drinking cocktails left. The next day is vague.  Linda is a event planner in her spare moments, so those interested head off to Golf, Mountain biking, Rafting, Potato Head, and the Rock Bar. With sixty of us here there is always someone to do Lunch, Shopping, Beach , Drinks or all of the above with.

                After five days Dicko and I head off to Legian. Its only a couple of Km’s away but the Hotel Jayakarta is on a different planet, old style Bali, on the beach. The rooms are crappy but the grounds are full of carved sandstone and shingled buildings. Breakfast  is hit and miss, with staff passing empty food containers in the buffet until prompted by the guests to refill them, but the staff are nice. The pool has a bar in it. Out the front the beach  is full of little bars and sun lounges with one or two people in each. We invade one of these with the rest of the crew one day and Bintang ourselves. We go swimming and watch the local surfers cut the waves to bits.  The little bar doesn’t open for the rest of our stay there. The rumour is the owner has retired on the profits.

                I brave the constant traffic jam and head to Kuta to go shopping but my heart is not in it. Knockoff NBA/AFL shirts, watches, and DVD’s. Hundreds of shops selling all the same crap. Business is not good. Everywhere new hotels are being built. I buy a MP3 player disguised as a bintang can, and an Uncle Norms tee shirt. I head up to Ubud a town made famous in Eat,Pray,Shop to go mountain biking. After a couple of hours driving we get great views of the volcano and a nice 40km downhill cruise with the odd stop for a  bit  of local culture. Nice to be out of the traffic with the local kids chasing you down the hills through the rice paddies. I drink weasel poo coffee and have a pleasant local lunch. Its monsoon but the weather has been good, but it can’t last. It starts to rain. Most of us are heading back to our day jobs so the crowed of friends are slowly thinning out. I spend the last couple of days reading and dodging the rain. Dicko and I leave straight from Uncle Norms to the airport, through the traffic and the building sites. Bali tick.

                Thanks to Linda and Tony for putting on a great time for all of us, and giving me an excuse to finally go to Bali. I’m sure they needed a rest when they got home. Thanks to the rest of my guides for just showing me the good stuff. Now I’ve been to Bali too.

City Views
Topic: Undefined

 

A bit of a local trip today, I spend a lot of time standing on roofs, sometimes with my camera which gives me some great (and not so great ) views of the city. The picture above was taken 1976 and recently resurrected by Mick and Bev. I'd forgotten all about it. Click the pic for more.

 

The High Country Rail trail.
Topic: Australia

 

After a bit of effort I finally managed to ride along the old Tallarook to Alexander Rail Trail. Mick and I headded off at 7.12am to Southern Cross station and after about an hour we where having Ham and cheese toasties with coffee at the Tullarook general store. The trail itself is about 85kms which is a bit of a stretch even for some one in peak fitness like myself. Mick had bought the touring bike with tools, while I had the light weight racer. Both where suitable for the trail but I did try to move Micks bike at one stage and did my back in with the weight of it.  I had sorted the accommodation (Thanks Des), Meals (Thanks Des), Bike support (Thanks Des and Mick),Transport (Thanks Des, Mick, and Happy), and the evening entertainment (Thanks Des, Mick,Josh and Happy). The rest I left to my helpers.The day was quite hot and we where lucky we got going early. A few coffee stops and we made half way at Yea for lunch about 12. Happy was meeting us here with Josh, unfortunately he was still stuck in the traffic in Melbourne at the time. Mick and I settled down in the Bakery watching the cricket while we waited.

         The Hapster eventually rocked up with Josh,  and we set off in the hottest part of the day to ride to the Cheviot tunnel. Most people think you go down to a tunnel but on railway lines they tend to be at the top of the hill. By this time it was getting quite warm, and the 9km climb took it's toll on us. Once you got into the tunnel it was beautiful and cool, a bit like a huge swampy air conditioner with a nice breeze blowing through it. Even better still the next section was 8 KM of down hill to the Molesworth pub. We sat out the heat and watched the Cricket for another hour. Only another 20 km to go.

          Five KM to the turn off to Alex then 12 KM up the hill, Im running out of energy but pushing it, Josh is cruzing right on my tail, with the others in the dust somewhere behind. A 10 minute coast into town then where here. Surprise 4.30PM and everything in town is closed, we are in the country after all. After a few enquirers we find the fish and chip shop hidden in the side street. Des is on the river catching dinner, and it's still 6 km to go to the trailer park. Happy's toasted, I'm not much better, Josh is rearing to go. I leave Hap bolted to the chair with a cool drink and a dimmy, and head up the last hill.  The clock ticks over 87 km and I'm there.

        Des rocks up with the goods, he's got a couple of one and a half kilo trout and a roast for dinner. Des heads off to town to pick up the wounded, and Hap's car. I have a power nap and put the roast on.  They return with beer, we eat fish, roast lamb, and discuss the benifits of the motor car. The five of us pass out in the van, Hap and Josh sharing the double. Next morning we head into town for a good breaky. More Fuel.

         Happy drives the car back to Yea and heads up the hill to meet us at the tunnel. We meet and ride back into Yea. I try to loose Josh again, but after 10 min of pushing it he's still right on my tail. Mick and I think about riding back to Tullarook for about a nano second, then take up Hap's offer of a ride back to Melbourne after another bakery fix. These cars are bloody good things bloke. The next day I drink about 10 liters of water. Click the pic for more photos.

            

SLC
Topic: North America
      The only state in the contental U.S I was yet to set foot in. Unfortunatly I only got to the airport but it looked good , even if it was a little cold. Click the pic for more.

Lions Gate Vancouver BC Canada
Topic: North America
Quick visit to the land of "Can a de a" to catch up with some friends and the god daughter. Jumped on the bike and rode around Stanly Park, grabed a hot dog for lunch on the beach, and a coffee from a stall near the Marina. My sort of fast food.

The trip to the Mother road
Topic: North America

 

   I innocuously mentioned that I wouldn't mind driving Route 66  a few years ago over  breakfast. My mate Chris was there, and after a year of nagging over  further breakfasts I gave in and told him if he got the time off I'd organize it. This should of been safe as Chris didn't have a passport and has 3 kids and a full time job. "Two weeks" Not enough I said. 'Three weeks" You need a month. More negotiation with the war office. "Ive got Four Weeks" I book the tickets. We leave on the first and return on the first, close enough to four weeks.

     I got a round the world airfare. Chris's kids had been all over but he had  pay for  it, so had never been outside of Oz. First Stop Hong Kong. We  jump on to the bus to China to spend a couple of nights with Muz. We check out of HK and of to the Visa office.  Unfortunately the Olympics are  just about to start in Beijing, so there not issuing any short term visa's for Shenzhen. At least we got on to Chinese territory so you can say you've been there. Back to Honkers for two days. Victoria Harbor,Giant Buddha, Victoria Peak, sleazy back street bars, dicey budget hotel and getting chased around by dodgy watch sellers. " Is genuine fake, but have genuine Japan mechanism". Great Fun  We bought two watches.  HNK tick. Next stop Rome.

     Great Place. Unlike China you don't even know you've gone through customs. You pass couple of Carabinieri checking themselves out in  the mirror and your on the street. Trevi Fountain, Vatican, Colosseum, Pantheon, Sistine Chapel., Azzurri beer and Kebabs so good we went back twice. Rome Tick. All we have to do is survive the 100 MPH taxi ride through the back streets at Four in the morning to the airport and where outta here.

     Zurich and a change of pace.The country where every bloke owns an Assault Rifle and 50 rounds of ammo, they like to keep things chilled. Mac and Reggi put us up for a couple of nights at there house out in the country. We do a bit of hiking, and eating at home style restaurants in the hills, a boat trip, fondue with the father in laws homemade cheese, and another bloody 4am trip to the airport. Switzerland Tick .6 days and 5 countries later we are on our way to New York.

     Americans are wonderful friendly people, pity I can't say the same about there immigration service. After a 6 hour flight you arrive at JFK. Some jerk in a uniform grunts at you to stand in line. Straight away the guy in the cubical goes to lunch.You get directed to another line. Jerk 1 comes back and yells a everyone to get in the original line until it's pointed out that is no longer open. Jerk 1 turns and walks away. Photo, fingerprints and some mind numbingly dumb questions, I 94 stamped and your in. Welcome to the Free World. Where in New York, Route 66 starts a third of the way across the country in Chicago. We head off to Times square to find some accommodation. First hotel $500 a night.  We walk a couple of K's to the wonderfully named Hell's Kitchen. Hotel $180 and a 12 pm checkout. Lunch at the dock, I stuff up and tip as well as pay the service charge, I thought the waitress looked happy. We do a night cruise of the Hudson, and stop by a bar to watch some Monday night football.

        I wake up, it's light and the phone is ringing. It's 5 to 12, my head hurts and they want us out of here. Vague memories of bourbons lined up on the bar and a 4am finish, throw in a bit of jet lag, it's not ideal.  We head to the central  bus terminal after both of us decided we has seen enough of New York. I drive the porcelain bus while Chris helps out some 20 year old blond who needs $20 to get back home to Kansas. Probably to buy some Meth but I have been called a bit of a cynic. We sleep on the two hour trip to Philly then wander off to Duncan's place. They have a meal and a warm bed waiting for us, which we put to immediate use. We need to get a car. Chris wants to buy one, he's into old American classics. I bought one of these and drove around the states in the 80's. Mine was a Ford Pinto with a highly inflammable sticker on the bumper. Duncan lends us his F100 and we drive around the used car yards. It seems that even a wreck is worth $300 as scrap. Not only that but we can't get it registered unless we have a Pennsylvanian drivers license. We cant get a drivers license unless we have a social security number. We cant get that because as foreigners we are all terrorists. In the 80's I had a US drivers license, and a car, It wasn't that hard. We had a nice Chevy 2 door picked out, even the dealer reckons the laws are crap. We return home defeated , and I book a rental on the internet. $1250 with unlimited miles and no one way fee. Before we take off the next day we drop in to say thanks to Duncan.. He is the main construction grip on a movie so we drop in and check out his work. There building igloo's to ship off to Greenland, bit like coals to Newcastle. Their lot is an old Naval shipyard full of decommissioned war ships surrounded by fashion and internet businesses. We head off to Geno's for a famous Philli cheese steak then out of town.

        At last where on the road. Not quite route 66 but Interstate 75 to Chicago. After a while we peel off on the Lincoln Highway, the first transcontinental route across America. Unlike route66 this one does go all the way across from Times Square to Seattle. Once you are off the interstate you start wandering through all these little backwoods towns. We pull up in a classic 40's motel, duck across the road to the servo for our first taste of American fast food as there is nothing else in town. After that we head to the local bar. The outside is full of pickups and Harley s, every one on the inside has a NRA or deer hunter tee shirt on. The walls are full of dear antlers. The place is quite, they don't get many strangers around here. And so starts our routine for the rest of the trip. "Two Beers please" Where you from?" Australia" What in Hell are you doing here? "Driving Route66" I always wanted to do that some one would say. I strike up a conversation with a bloke in a camouflage hunting jacket. We have had a couple of beers and don't want to get caught  drink driving so where about to leave. He tells me that they took away his drivers license because he couldn't pay his alimony, the local sheriff lets him drive into town so long as he only goes to the bar and straight back home. They wont do you for DUI so long as you tell them your on the way home. We don't risk it but it's nice knowing electing your local sheriff comes with privileges. We go through Gettysburg, past the flight 93 memorial, grand rapids and a whole pile of Springfield's. A couple more cheap motels and grimy bars. Eventually we end up at US54 in Chicago. The Start of the Mother Road.

 

Lukla Airport
Topic: East Asia

A short piece on the joys of flying into a place called the worlds most scary airport.

The Mountains
Topic: Oceania

 

If you go into the woods today you’re in for a big surprise. No, not Teddy Bears. Hills, Bloody great big ones. Its day 6 and we take off from Kone. After our night of native accommodation the boys where keen to get on the road, and burn up some of the Yams they had consumed. We headed off out of town for a pleasant 15KM of flat road, even a bit of bike track. The roads where still good and the traffic was relatively light. Once we hit the hills it was different. Ern had booked a nice resort on the other side for two nights, and we were going there for a rest day. Not that we had a lot of choice. There was no further accommodation available in either direction for 150 KM. That was fine, but first we had to get there.  New Caledonia is about 350 KM long and around 80 KM wide. The coastline is relatively flat but to get from one side to the other you need to go over not just one, but 2 sets of mountains with a valley in the centre.  We where heading up the first of these.  Fortunately I was driving due to my bung arm, but even the Citron was struggling up some of the 10% plus grades. How where the boys going?  Who cares? I switched on the AC, and waited at the lookout at the end of the climb. It was a great view of the previous days ride. Eventually they struggled in. I directed them towards the water and told them to get a move on, as I wanted to get as much time around the resort pool as possible.  Another 45 minutes riding mostly downhill with a few tiny bumps and we stopped at a great swimming hole for lunch. Baguette and Brie, great riding food and a half hour break.  About 300 meters after our lunch break around the corner was a sign with 10% grade on it and it wasn’t going down. I shouted encouragement from the open window of the Citron, but the brie didn’t seem to be kicking in. I tried to take a photo of the Lads riding up the hill. I could not get them all on the bikes at the same time; some one always seemed to be walking. You don’t see that in the Tour. Eventually they made it to the top of the second climb and where rewarded with a nice 15km downhill followed by a nice flat beach section. All of a sudden we were at the Resort. Beers all round, this was more the style. I drove up the coast the next day to see one of the highlights of the East coast. A bunch of islands around Hienghene which were very pleasant, and copped a good dose of Kodak poisoning. I couldn’t get any other takers for the trip; the others just wanted to hang around the pool. On the way back I drove past the resort, and through Pondmine. The resort was at the start of town, one dogey pizza and pasta place, two gas stations, a poulet (chook) and roti van, and a dubious snack bar.  Knowing Erns love of dogey pasta I went and retrieved him from round the pool because I did not want to be responsible for the dinner booking all by myself. We drove back through town and the roti van which was the best looking of the lot had closed and moved on.  We ate at the resort again that night.

                The next day we got an early start, well sort of. We had to get 160KM down the coast and across the hills to La Foy. A dubious standard hotel awaits us there, as this was the only accommodation available. I chucked Mick in the Citron and drove him 30KM to the next village and up a hill on the other side of town the waited for Ern and Frank to catch up. The coast road was great. Flat, not a lot of traffic, and that palm tree tropical sandy beach with islands you see in the brochures sort of pretty. We all caught up about another 30KM on in the next town.  It had a market so I bought twenty ripe sugars Banana’s (most are green) and a great bit of banana pie of one of the locals for a couple of bucks. Then we found a brilliant little cafe, which had the best lunch menu we had seen so far. The local cops where eating there and a bloke who we decided must have been the Mayor was drinking Coolies (Cheap Wine) out the front. When the cops left he came and gave us a great lecture on local history in the native language. He then had a chat to the owner who didn’t seem to be able to understand him either.  I chucked Ern’s bike in the car and we headed out of town, and into a nickel mine that used the highway as a haul road up the mountain. We where now headed back across the island, and I dropped him off at what we thought was near the top of the hill. Back down, the hill. We couldn’t fit all four of us and the bikes in the car so someone had to be ridding at any one time. Originally this was to be split four ways over three bikes but due to my arm the other guy’s had to do all the riding. I spent the next 5 hours shuttling bikes and blokes to the top of various never ending hills. I feel I know the road quite well as I generally drove it at least three times backwards and forwards to get everyone. Just on dark we arrived in Sarramea where we had hoped to stay but the hotel had been fully booked. We where knackered, it was dark, and another 30KM on to our booked hotel so we dropped in for a beer while we worked out a game plan. Wait there may be a room available.” For Four”... No... But there is a Gite across the road. We go across the road and check. Yes, It is fully booked... But wait there may be a room... There is a room the owners don’t normally rent it as it’s for their friends. It has a four poster and a 50” TV, not your normal Gite accommodation. The old hang around long enough and something will turn up works again. We ring our booked place and explain about our car troubles, they don’t seem too concerned. The hotel is magnificent, the have a full on French Degustation menu in the restaurant, run by the crew from Faulty towers. Service Lousy, Food Great, and Wine French of course. I still feel sick.

                The next day we head off to finish the last 30KM in to La Foa. In town we find a real patisserie with good coffee and free WIFI. I shuttle the bikes and riders 60KM down the road to the airport, where Mick boxes them while I get Ern and Frank. Of course due to Security concerns they have no luggage storage and our flight is the next day. Mick and I cart the boxes in to town, another 50KM, while Ern and Frank catch a Taxi back to Le Meridian. We check in for the night, and the boys investigate Pop light, the local Disco after another fine French meal.  It must have been good as they look pretty seedy the next morning. We clean up the car and head back out of town past the odd burnt out and upside down 4 wheeler from last night’s partying that has yet to be cleaned up. Just another Saturday night in Noumea. The planes late, but at least I find all the ingredients for a Bloody Mary in the airport lounge. It’s touch and go but we make our connection in Brisbane, and have time for another drink before getting on the plane back to Tulla. Apart from the arm, which is rapidly improving, it’s all gone pretty well.