140km left to get to Sydney. One day of riding, follow parallel to the highway and I’d get there by late afternoon all going well. After all this time the finish though wasn’t such an appealing prospect. Another day in the saddle seemed like a good idea, the traffic was getting heavy and I wanted to get away from it so I took some diversions. Instead I was heading east through lush greenery not north to Sydney but towards the coast and almost my doom!

About 100km from Sydney I nearly ended my ride (and other things) in spectacular style. I was riding down MacQuarie Pass towards Wollongong. The road was a damp, tight, twisty, a 500m drop in just a few kilometres – Fun but not ideal conditions for a heavily laden touring bike. Halfway down, barreling towards a corner at a speed far in excess of what was wise (the signs were indicating 15km/h) an articulated truck appeared filling the entire road. I grabbed on the brakes as hard as I dared to try and stop in time but there was no chance, too much debris on the shoulder of the road. I went as far left as I could, my bags rubbing up against the rock face and I still had to twist my body to just avoid the edge of the Trucks trailer catching my shoulder. It was that close! After letting the adrenaline levels return to normal I turned around and headed back up the hill a little to get a picture of the corner. Thereafter I took it calmly, keeping a firm grip on the brakes but still enjoying the descent.

The little villages and towns I passed through were quiet and pretty, and everything was very green. It almost felt like being in home, it was that lush. Barely a day ago I was riding through scrubby brown countryside suffering the effects of drought. Clearly at least this area was getting enough rain. Adding to the familiarity were the names of the places I passed through and the way they appeared. Sutton Forest, Moss Vale, Avoca, Fitzroy Falls all names that would fit right in at home. Not only that but the appearance of the towns, houses and shop fronts were decidedly un-Australian and very British.

Brisbane was a fair distance away – about 170km and I wanted to get there before evening rush-hour so I planned on leaving at 5am. I got up, got packed and was ready to go but the reception at the camp was closed and they had some of my things for safe keeping so that threw a spanner in the works and I had to amuse myself for a few hours.

When I got going I was making good time until I hit the Gold coast where the road turned into Motorway with no bicycles allowed. It had a nice wide shoulder so I decded to gie it a go anyway. About 2km later I found myself back on the streets of the ‘burbs my ears red from the stiff bollicking I got from a copper. I played the dumb tourist card but he was having none of it, lucky I didn’t get a ticket. Trying to navigate the northern suburbs of Surfers Paradise and Southport was a nightmare, even the locals I asked for help didn’t know “get on the motorway” being the usual response. That said most of them can’t have been living there for long. Eventually I found my way to the old highway which ran parallel to the motorway which was dead quiet, no traffic and lovely road surface.

Things got complicated when I reached the southern edge of Brisbane. The road did have signs for a cyclist route which I followed with ease unitl I got to one roundabout. If you were to follow the signs you would be going around in circles for eternity With the help of some local knowledge I managed to get into the city but at this stage it had been dark for 2 hours and I’d added 30km extra to the trip but how bad, some days of rest with a bed awaited.

It’s been headwind all the way so far but today was grim. All day I was cycling into a 20-30km/h headwind, at times on the flat I was crawling along at only 14km/h and working bloddy hard too. Not only energy sapping it was spirit sapping stuff, from the moment I got up it never relented. But they say every cloud has a silver lining and in this case it was true.

Floating along

That evening as I’m crawling up another hill into the wind I see some hang-gliders so I pull into the rest area to take a look. Turns out the Byron Bay hang-glider club were there so I asked to have a go for which they rquest $140 for 30 minutes. That was a bit rich for me but I got them to change the flight to a lesson and the 30 minutes offered to 75 and I forked over the cash. It was still a lot but damned if the wind wasn’t going to work for me for a change. It was incredible, I was doing 360 degree turns, climbing, diving all sorts of stuff some of which nearly led to disaster and an emergency landing but we’ll gloss over that. At one point whilst riding a thermal and gaining some height an eagle joined us spiralling around us barely 20 feet away. He had a fish or something in its claws. I tried to get a photo but I could get the camera to focus on the bird so I just got a blob but it was cool.

Much happier I ploughed onto Byron Bay, just as I got into town to look for a campsite some guy on a bike waves me over. He recoginsed me from the road a few days earlier and he gave e a tour of the town, where to go what to see and then delivered me to a campsite on the beach. It was only a few hunded meters from the most easterly point on the mainland so I went for the obligatory photograph. Byron Bay is great and the following day I decided to move to the Arts Factory and stay for another night. The Arts Factory is awesome, every backpacker style place I’ve ever seen pales in comparison to this. They have a hostel, cabins, teepees, and a campsite in addition to a bar, cafe, resturaunt, spa, pool and loads of free onsite stuff. I got some didgeridoo lessons, did a bush tucker walk and in the evening there was more free entertainment.

Stevo Extremo

Cockatoo Paul is a one man band which explains why he plays with himself. I was talking to him earlier in the day so when he saw me that night I was fair game for taking the piss. He even composed a little song for me about cycling around Oz, not very flattering but funny as hell. After he was done Stevo Extremo came on to do a fire show which was spectacular. And all this was free in a campsite that costs half what the other places cost. If I didn’t need to get moving so quickly to beat the monsoon season up in the Northern Territories I’d have stayed a few more days. Who know I may be back. I’m missing quite a bit of stuff I’d normally have lingered for.

There are signs everywhere about speeding but thin one took the biscuit. I could see it from a mile off and it did not make me want to slow down thats for sure. I didn’t hang aound Coffs Harbour, it seemed like a nice town but it was a bit dull and lifeless – it is winter I suppose and the only people holidaying are retired. On my way out I passed the big banana(contrete). Now I’ve seen the big banana and a big guitar and there promises to be lots more ‘big’ stuff. I wonder what next?
They seem to grow a lot of bananas in this area which is a good thing becuase they are affordable around here from the stall on the sides of the road. There was a cyclone up the coast and it destroyed lots of farmland mainly banana plantations which has caused the price to skyrocket. I was looking forward to bananas in my oats for breakfast in the mornings but when 2 bananas cost the same as a steak dinner it becomes a less viable option. I made it to Yamba just at nightfall and pitched my tent right on the edge of the beach. It was a challenge as it was dark and tent pegs don’t get much grip in sand but I eventually got set up. Sand got everywhere even in those hard to reach places but it was worth it, the sound of the waves had me comatose in no time.

Yes you read correctly, on a fully loaded touring bike my top speed has been 82.2km/h! On any bike thats pretty fast but with the weight I was muscling around the bends it was hair-raising stuff. I went to the Rainforest centre in Dorrigo but it was really foggy that morning and you could see nothing so I didn’t bother with the skywalk across the top of the canopy. I had been looking forward to doing that but the fog was so bad you couldn’t see 20 feet in front of you, I even had to delay my departure back to the coast because it wasn’t safe to be riding.

After coming down from the mountains I arrived in Bellingen where their annual Jazz festival was in full flight. I stayed until late afternoon enjoying the acts – some good and others well the less said the better. That evening I reached Coffs Harbour where I forked out for an over priced campsite but the hot shower was worth every penny. I dare say I was ‘pungent’ at that point anyway A bar across the street had dinner specials, a huge plate of pasta bake and salad for $6 if you buy a drink. Thats only about £2.40 which is pretty freaking cheap for a good meal.

In the camp ground there was another biker heading south from Brisbane to Sydney on a fixie. So having come down he showed me a good route to take to avoid the main highway and all its traffic. Even offered to give me his Lonely Planet guide to cycling in Australia which was pretty cool. Turns out that touring on a fixie isn’t the best idea though. Despite being a courier riding fixed for 3 years his ankles were getting really sore from the stress.

Wollomombi Falls

I saw wombats, wallabies, kangaroos, porcupines even my first wild snake sunning himself on a rock. All very cool but I didn’t take a camera with my so I’ve no idea what kind of snake it was. That afternoon I made it to Ebor which is a high as the New England plain gets for me at about 1350m. It’s been a very tough ride all the way so far, it’s very lumpy with lots of small climbs and descents one after another. It’s like doing loops of Headington hill all day long, no one is very tough but after a few hours it starts to get annoying. Added to that is the relentless headwind which slows things down even more. So far my average speed is just a shade over 19km/h which is pretty slow. From Ebor though I’m basically going downhill which will be some relief.

It’s winter here and despite being a lovely and warm 20 degrees when the sun is out it got down to -6 that night which is pretty chilly. My light sleeping bag did a remarkable job of keeping me warm despite a comfort rating of 14 degrees I didn’t feel cold at all some 20 degrees below that value. Armidale has a museum and some impressive architecture or so Lonely Planet says so I decided to make a pitstop here to explore after only 30km.

The town is really picturesque and has some nice architecture but only by Australian standards. What they trumpet as masterpieces can be found in any town in Ireland or Britain. Maybe I’m just spoiled. The Pubs and Hotels look good though. That afternoon it abolutely pissed down with cold sleet-rain so taking the day off turned out to be a stroke of genius and my legs needed an easy day to recover a little.

After a lovely breakfast with the Anderson clan I pressed on North to Tamworth. My guide reckons it’s Australias country music capital and evidence of this was a giant guitar on the edge of town. It was enough to send me scittering around the edge of town on narrow back streets to avoid the possibility of an aureal assault on my senses. Good country music is OK but bad country music makes my ears bleed.

After Tamworth came the Moonbi range over which is the New England Plain, a 1000m plateaux in the Great dividing range. After grinding my way up for 5km the road started to level off and there was a sign for a scenic lookout so thinking I’d made it over I pedalled joyfully to see what I had acomplished. Bad mistake. The lookout as about another few hundred meters of climbing and I was almost spent by the time I got to the top. I had lunch, admired the view and set of back to the main road where a sign saying second Moonbi Hill awaited me. This lasted 6 or 7km taken in 750m bursts. I’m proud to say I didn’t get off and push but honestly I don’t think it would have been any easier. At one point doing a heroic 12.1km/h I was keeping pace with a truck, naturally my heart was near bursting point at this eye-watering speed so I backed off to a less insane 8km/h – barely faster than walking pace. By the time I got to the top I was seeing stars!

I have almost no recollection of the next 60km or so, I just kept tapping away on the pedals in a zombie like state until it got dark. The only thing I do recall and very vividly I might add is one of the grey army almost killing me. I glanced over to see an elderly lady waving at me from very close range in her car as I struggled up another hill. About a second later I find myself spearing towards the ditch! I bravely took my hands off the bars because thats what you should do but the bike didn’t go over and I managed to get the brakes on and stop without dying. They were so close to me when they drove past that the caravan they were towing hit my pannier and sent me skidding into the bushes. And they told me to watch out for road trains! Beware the grey army I say!!!

Third day on the road and my legs are already pretty sore and not just the muscles. My left leg has been causing problems for months and before I turned the pedals once at the start it was pretty stiff. As a consequence I was compensating a bit with my right leg and the knee is getting sore so I’m keeping the pace pretty easy. After a nice flat 40km in the morning to warm up I arrived at Murrurindi where a 6km drag up to 700m awaited – the first of three today

Long climbs are relatively easy, settle into a nice rythm and just keep on going. The previous 2 days of constant ups and downs really wear you out especially with the extra weight I’m carrying around. That evening still 40km outside Tamworth which I’d been hoping to reach for a campsite with a shower, I saw a farmer standing by a gate. As there was no chance of making town before it got completely dark I pulled over and asked if there was someplace good to camp for the night, angling for permission to pitch in one of her paddocks. As luck would have it I was only about 1km from a billabong just off the road with a big tree for shade. After getting directions and chatting for a while I headed off.

Janet & Barry Anderson

No sooner had I found the spot there a truck pulls up beside me – the Andersons were back inviting me back to their home for a steak dinner. I of course jumped at the offer and followed them back. As a sort of payment I helped round up their sheep into pens for the night and put out some poison bait for the foxes which were killing thier little lambs. I didn’t really do much to deserve it. Not only did I get a fabulous dinner they let me take a shower and pitch my tent on their lawn. I got plenty of good advice on the best ways the get to Brisbane and places and things to see on the way. 3 days on the road and I’ve already been given 3 free meals. I’m loving this, long may it continue, Aussies are brilliant!

After saying goodbye to Col and Peta, I hit the road towards Singleton in the Hunter Valley – Australias famous wine producing region. A quick pitstop at the only bike store in town yielded a super heavy duty innertube to try to prevent further punctures. The thing weighs more than the tyre it fits inside.

Freshly fuelled and confident I won’t be getting more rear flats at least I continued on down the road to Muswellbrook. Spying the Golden Arches and deciding I deserved a milkshake I went in to be greeted by a really sweet girl who gave me a meal and a few bottles of water on the house. Maybe there is something to the Irish accent abroad after all? The ride was pretty uneventful, nice roads and weather apart from a headwind. Made camp for the night in Scone – the horse capital of Australia, if thats something worth boasting about?