Half Done

The photo directly below was the last taken on my cycle trip through the North Island. Just before Upper Hutt, in the Akatarawa ranges. The previous two weeks were full of family and friend meetings and reunions, hard but enjoyable cycling and constant suprises regarding the scenery, people and general vibe of New Zealand.





I left Toon and Gijs in Hamilton, ending the "Three Musketeers" partnership we had formed. The two of them were looking for some farm work and I decided to press on south. A gradual uphill, remote road for towards Lake Taupo was my companion for two days, and was glad to be rid of it when I first saw the great lake. Relatives looked after me in Taupo and Napier, to the east.

Art-deco Napier waterfront

Gorge road

On the way south, along the east coast of the North Island, I once again used couchsurfing to meet new people and find a place to stay for the night. After a few hair-raising experiences on the gorge road over the central ranges toward Palmerston North, I continued south, now on the west coast, toward Wellington.

Lake Taupo

New Zealand

On the way to Auckland, at Brisbane Airport, a man approached me after spotting my pannier and introduced himself as Toon, a Belgian cyclist planning on cycling and working through New Zealand. We decided to stick together for the a while, landing at the Auckland Airport and cycling our way into the centre where we met a friend, Gijs.

We boarded the ferry the next morning, after an early night, to the Coromandel Peninsular, making our way through beautiful scenery and arriving in the port to the south of Coromandel town. We decided to forgo the sealed main road and took the less-traveled gravel road 309 to Whitiangia. Very steep but very enjoyable, we descended over the range and set up camp on a beach after a good dinner and some wine. Toon entertained some locals with his impressive juggling skills.

A nice breakfast of scrambled eggs saw us off south, through some mixed forests of palm and deciduous trees, following the bluffs of the east coast of Coromandel. We enjoyed a break at an observation point overlooking 'Sailor's Grave' under a blistering sun. Smooth tarmac downhill to the next town where our party of three cyclists grew to five, as we met a couple of European travellers, Ben and Roberta, in Waihi.

I had my first genuine puncture in over 4000km of touring, and was helped eagerly by my new friends as it was repaired. The next camp was in some sand dunes to the south, Whangamata, on a beautiful coastline with a shady campsite and good food and company to keep the morale up high.

More pics of Europe

Just thought i would post some photos of my last trip before i head off on the next one on the 21st. Good memories.

Josh's Trip

I recently gave my old bike to a mate of mine from New Zealand, Josh Clarke. He decided to ride it from England to Spain, and being a surfer, enjoyed the beaches along the West Coast by taking his board with him! Here are some pics from the trip. I will hopefully be catching up with him when I head off to New Zealand on the 21st of January '09. Not long now.

Plans re-evaluted

I have well and truly recovered from the accident of a few months back, and leaving on another adventure is the main objective for me at this moment. I love Australia, but after the whirlwind pace and extraordinary presence and vibrancy of the great cities and countries I have lived in recently, Brisbane seems slightly pedestrian. Over the past few months, my family have supported me greatly, and have helped me get back on my feet, without complaint - I thank them for that.



Through nightly jogging and running, some short bike trips and bushwalking, I have been slowly regaining fitness and the desire to escape again.



I have also compiled a list of various goals I wish to accomplish over the next few years, a few of which are learning Spanish, trying some some basic parkour/freerunning, and becoming competent with the Harmonica. I should be quite busy.

If life is what you make it, its time to build...

I was hit from behind by a truck on a 'b' road in Croatia roughly three months ago, hence my sporadic blog posts. Unfortunately it has brought my trip to an abrupt halt. I was unconscious for a week and in a Zagreb hospital for three weeks before being flown home. Physically I will be fine - given enough time - hopefully by January 16th 2009, as this is the date I plan to get myself back on the road.


Not all the way back to Croatia, but a nice jaunt around New Zealand to see the sights and save some money to send to far-flung outposts in Alaska, Central Asia or Ireland (haven't decided yet!).

Central Europe: Borders and big miles

Germany traversed, I was on my own, staring at the countless kilometers ahead of me wth no clear break until I reached Istanbul many thousands of pedal rotations away. I enjoyed, as I knew I would, the Czech Republic, following the same route through the country I followed last year - for nostalgic reasons. When I finally reached the Danube river, my well marked path all the way down to Bulgaria, I was excited, but the monotony of a dead straight, scenery defunct gravel road that stretches as far as the eye could see for weeks ahead soon expelled the happiness and replaced it with boredom and disappointment.

Imagine hundred of km's of this

I had to get myself off this waterway of drudgery, so in Slovakia I turned right at Bratislava, (a real gem of a city so close to the sheer wall of tourists found in Vienna) and headed south, destination: Adriatic Coast.

The hospitality of Hungary was a little lower compared to the previous countries I had covered, the occasional rude person, slightly bland food (still good for a parched cyclist), flat scrubby scenery, and an unbelievable mosquito population, I decided to cover the country as fast as I could and rode three 160km days to get out of there. I can't generalise a whole country from my limited perspective, so one day I will visit again. As soon as I crossed the border/borders into Slovenia/Croatia, the scenery visibly changed for the better, people suddenly seemed nicer and the mosquitos were fewer.

Germany

Over the Border into Aachen and at last, Germany - a country we would spend the most time traveling as a pair. I had visited Northern Germany the previous year and I was delighted to be back. Instead of the pancake-flat Elbe river lowlands of the last visit, this time we would be traversing the hilly interior of the country, the heartland of Germany, starting with the Eifel National Park.


It was a startling change from the flat northern farmlands of Europe to be in a mountainous forest, but the scenery, breathtaking it it's semi-alpine beauty invigorated us with the extra energy required for the steep inclines.

After our contour exertions, we made camp on the Rhine River, bathed and relaxed. Following an offshoot of the Rhine, the Lahn River, Frankfurt Am Main - a metropolis, was thankfully skirted and we were more than halfway across the vast country, having quite an enjoyable time. We camped much of the time and bathed and washed our clothes in rivers and the like. It was a well-honed practice after a while, and I much preferred the mosquito netting and nylon of the tent to the brick-and-mortar of conventional dwellings. The freedom to stop anywhere along the route we took and the feeling of being close to nature had me hooked.

We continued through the dark green hues and summer bloom of Germany, stopping to stay with friends in Fulda and Suhl, two days of rest from cycling the mind and certainly the body needed greatly.

France, Belgium, Netherlands

It has been over a month on the road since leaving the daily comforts and ease of everyday life in England. I set off from Dover with my good friend Rachel, our hearts set on traveling East. In France, fresh off the ferry, things got off to a shaky start. It was late at night in the seedy port town of Calais, an awful place - full of neon-boarded and dodgy looking casinos. Without a place to stay, we pitched the tent in the town's park, and made a rather ealy start the next day, keen to get out of the place.

The north of France passed quickly out of our lives, an we started making headway in Belgium, only to be stopped about 15km outside Bruges by a young lady and her slightly less young, but equally friendly husband. We were welcomed into their house as if we were old friends - food, drink and animated conversation a definite improvement on Calais and a good welcome to Belgium.

The usual touring deeds were undertaken in the beautiful towns of Bruges and Gent th next day. Germany was at the forefront of my mind, so we followed the horizon-straight Albert Canal through the heart of the small country to Maastricht, and the Netherlands. We met another couple there, and they showed us the magnificent sights of this ancient and well-conquered(14 times, I recall) city.

Plodding Along

Bad bread, German Rennsteig and catching Herentals

My trip started on the 9th of July when I left Dover on a ship to Calais. It is now the 26th and I am once again in Prague, Czech Republic. The fantastic scenery and wonderful hospitality from Belgium and Germany (the country I have spent the most time cycling) to Czech has ensured I have had an extremely enjoyable time, made even better with the inclusion of a cycling partner, Rachel, who unfortunately is departing tomorrow, leaving me once again on my lonesome.



Peace All