We aren't as crazy or nearly as fit as those people, but we liked their style. The ride is mostly along the coast, and we figured the scenery would be beautiful. We thought we might be able to do the ride in four days, so we set out on Friday about noon for parts unknown.
That's the route the Round the Bay in a Day people follow, and we figured we would follow it, as people who are that serious about cycling are likely to suss out which roads are bike-friendly and avoid those that are sealed in mud.
We took it slow and steady the whole way, nothing crazy. The first day was definitely the hardest. Although we had been told the route was "pretty flat", that turned out to be untrue. Firstly, the difference between "pretty flat" and "absolutely as flat as a North Dubliner's accent" matters a great deal to a cyclist. The first 40 kms or so could accurately be described as "pretty flat," but there were some hills in there. The last bit was the hardest. There were two mountains - Mt Eliza and Mt Martha - that could not qualify as "pretty flat" in anyone's book. I put my bike in almost its lowest gear and crawled up the hills at a snail's pace. It was a consistent snail's pace, and I got a bit of rhythm going, but it was slow going. Leslie's muscles seized up on him halfway up both hills, and he had to stop and stretch before continuing. Coming down Mt Martha was exhilarating, though - the panorama of distant mountains and fields and streams was laid out in front of us as we flew down. When we got to our destination for the day, I was too exhausted to face the possibility of hopping on my bike for the 2kms or so into town for supper, happy instead to ring for a pizza to be delivered to our motel.
We faced a headwind for most of the first day as well, adding to the difficulty. The second day was fine and calm, though, and the route was much flatter. It was along the coast for most of the journey, and we got to take the ferry from Sorrento to Queenscliff, which provided a picturesque and pleasant break from cycling.The only fly in the ointment was that Leslie got a flat tyre outside Sorrento, and he had to walk it into town and find a hardware shop to sell him a bicycle repair kit. I cycled ahead to try to get help, but the taxi company said it wouldn't take bikes. The guy at the hardware store said that if I could bring Leslie's wheel to him, he'd fix it. I cycled back out to get the wheel from Leslie, thinking to bring it into town, get it fixed and bring it back to him. But he'd already walked most of the way into town at that point, and I missed him somehow on the road. I ended up cycling all the way back to the previous town, then calling, finding out he was in Sorrento, and cycling all the way back. Oh well. It was a glorious day for a ride - sunny, warm but not hot, calm - and a beautiful route, and I didn't have to go too far in this mishap. Les was able to patch his tyre, and we were back on the road.
The tyres proved to be a problem after that, though. His were in rag order, covered in bald
patches and very fragile. On the third day his back tyre got two more punctures, and it wasn't fit to cycle the 100 km or so back to Melbourne. To tell the truth, I wasn't fit for it either. We had cycled as far as Geelong, a suburb town about 70km from Melbourne, and the rest of the route was on a freeway. Freeways are not ideal for cycling anyway, and our muscles and bums were sore from three days in the saddle. We were happy enough to hop on a train in Geelong back to Melbourne.But it was a great trip. Our second night we stayed in a grand old hotel from 1877 (called, in fact, The Grand Hotel) in a sleepy seaside town called Portarlington. How sleepy? We tried to get supper at 8:15 pm on a Saturday night and even the town's takeaway was closed. One restaurant gave us some food to take away, but it was closing in 15 minutes and would not let us eat in. A girl on a mobile phone asking her interlocutor to pick her up seemed to be dismayed by the town's lack of nightlife, too: "I'm stranded in Portarlington. I can't think of anything worse. Seriously, I cannot think of anything worse."
Either the girl lacked imagination or had led a charmed existence up until this point, because while Portarlington was no great shakes from a late-night culinary point of view, it had beautiful sea views and was a lovely and charming spot. And the bakery in town made lovely hot cross buns the following morning, for Easter.Favourite road sign of the trip: Eel Race Road. I'm imagining someone taking bets on a bunch of eels swimming around a tank.
Most exploitative church sign of the trip: "It's good to say SORRY: Confess your sins and ye shall be healed." This was on an Aboriginal flag, clearly trying to cash in on the Rudd Government's recent historic apology to indigenous Australians and make people go to church.
While the scenery was lovely and the views often superb, you're going to have to take my word on it, for the most part. Leslie hauled around a heavy camera all around the bay, but he wasn't "inspired" to take pictures. Artists.
