One Cup of Tea

...The night before we had stayed at the Bermagui Pub (Most pubs in Aussie have cheap rooms, and most hotels are bars...), we had a tough ride that day through some sweltering heat trudging up the hills at a nice 6 km/hr (the only reason we weren't pushing the bike up the hill was the narrow shoulder) with logging trucks full of gum trees whirring by... and we were ready to sleep on a bed. As soon as we had rolled in, the cumulonimbus clouds appeared over the horizon, and in 15 minutes the sky was raining pitchforks, with thunder and lighting to boot (made for a nice dinner show). There was no way my ultralight "tarptent" would have held up through that fury, and Kimbo and I were talking over a schooner of Toohey's Old Black Ale about how we were glad to be here.

The next day, we set off along the Sapphire Coast Road, a nice diversion from the busier Princes Highway (we're not sure if it's supposed to be Princess, or Prince's... but it's spelled Princes... anyway think Hwy 1) after sleeping in from a much needed rest, and got caught in the humid heat once again. We pulled into the nice beach town of Tathra, where we jumped in the ocean, ate lunch, and got passed by a group of 10 cyclists from Melbourne. They were doing the same ride... Sydney to Melbourne in 6 days... averaging 180 km a day!... us on the other hand were doing more like 60 km... and struggling at that. Most were on single-speeds, two were on a fixie, and the nice mate we talked to was the only one with gears (9 speed)... oh and one of them was from SF... Stephan was the bloke's name I believe.

After leaving Tathra, the cumulonimbus (with mammutus) clouds appeared behind us once again, and after witnessing the power of the torrent from the previous night we cautiously rode on, keeping our eyes peeled for bus stops (with shelter), houses, dense trees that we could scurry back to in case the storm caught up to us. After riding 10 km or so, we felt our first drops... so before it was too late we turned around to seek shelter at a house we passed a minute ago. The father (frank) was outside talking to a trucker friend, and after he was done with his business he welcomed us to his home. The mother (Sue) continued Frank's hospitality by offering us tea and cookies, which we devoured while watching the storm pass from their porch. We talked to them and their son (who was about to start uni in Camberra next week) about politics, education, Obama (of course), the economy, and the road ahead (oh, and their son did re-assure us that one in five logging truck drivers are on meth... with no further reference).

This kind of hospitality, and random encounters with the locals is what makes bike touring worthwhile. Rolling into a new town, figuring out which bakery has the best meat pie (I prefer curry!), where the best beaches lie, the location and hours of the bottle shop, and if the pub has the one IPA we've seen so far (James Squire... doesn't compare to the Racer 5... but not bad) are some of the small daily perks that keep us going.

We're often asked why we're cycling... and that, "you know... Australia is a big country... it takes me 10 hours to get to Sydney from here... and that's when the traffic is FAIR!"... Yes, Australia is a big country... google maps taught me that long ago... and yes, by doing a slow bike tour we are going to miss some of the "highlights" as defined by Lonely Planet... Uluru, Brisbane, Perth, etc... but in many ways I feel as though sweating our way up these endless rolling hills may be the fastest way to see a country... at least the way I want to see it... for now.

Yu