A Bicycle Tourist without a Bicycle but in Milano (26 May – Day 2)

I woke for a time around 4am then slept through until 8 am. Very happy with that. After my endless day of travel I think my body would have accepted whatever time I was told it was. There’s no word of my bags as yet. Laura in Hong Kong says the storms were quite bad and the airport a mess for some time. Presumably thousands of travellers were effected and, perhaps, disassociated from their luggage. It makes sense it would take a few days to sort itself out. I’m told 99% of luggage turns up … I simply have to …

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Tornavento – a soft landing after a long journey (25 May – Day 1)

Having flown for something like 32 of 34 hours I arrived finally at Malpensa Airport on the outskirts of Milan with nothing but my carry -on – fortunately, having expected an overnight in Doha, I had some clothes and toiletries. My first stop was the lost luggage office to file the paperwork which would encourage them to find and deliver to me my luggage. Another passenger in the office, from Ukraine, had put his bag on a moving conveyor belt without having checked it in so it was now lost someplace in the bowels of the airport and could take …

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Leaving Australia – Flying Forever – Arriving Finally in Milan

The longest day in my life where flying becomes all I am. But that time now acts as a solid space between before my trip and on my trip.

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Riding in Pounding Rain is Better Than Sitting at a Desk: Scotts Head to Crescent Head (Day 11 – Thursday 30 April)

Many reading this might think this sounds miserable. You might think this was on par with the tough day on the Crawney Pass or the challenges of getting over the Moonbis … but, no. I was happy.

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Anzac Day – Uralla Style (Day 6 – Saturday 25 April)

I woke to a big, blue, clear sky. The sun shone strongly and hot; the breeze, especially in the shade, chilly with the plateau’s autumn. They’ve planted many exotic deciduous trees in New England and their red and golden dying leaves frame each roadway. At 9:45 am the great majority, it seemed, of Uralla residents lined the main street waiting for the balance of their neighbours and most of the district’s school children to parade past to mark Anzac Day: returned servicemen and women came first followed by children marching for parents, then those in local services – the Red …

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These Hills Seem Downright Reasonable or My First Riding Day Without Tears: Bendemeer to Uralla (Day 5 – Friday 24 April)

I first woke around 6 am, rolled over and woke again at 8. I dawdled through the morning – fearing more hills I huddled under the covers and got some writing done. But there was distance to cover and nothing to do but load up and cover it. As I was packing up the Kiwi cleaner nodded at my bicycle and said “You could get an engine for that.” To which I replied “I’ve all the engine I need right here (patting my thigh) and here (pointing at my heart).” That I could feel that way the day after Moonbi …

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Riding in the rain 100 metres at a time – Day 2 (Monday 20 April)

Last night I feared I maybe really couldn’t do this. Well, couldn’t do the wild camping – that particularly worried me. But here I am. Not wild camping as in set up in some shrubbery on the side of the road but behind the Timor Community Centre with no one knowing I am here. And I feel fine, safe. There is a little mouse scurrying around out there and the usual moths beating their wings against the wall of my tent as it is the only light source for some distance around. The crickets are loud; the air outside the …

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Weeping for What Will Come and What Will Stay Behind

The tick-tock of time passing is getting very loud. Today is my Going Away Party. As I write I await the first of my guests. I feel anxious, nervous, excited and sad. When I planned for a prologue ride in Australia, which begins next Sunday, I was thinking of it as a test of my bicycle, my gear and my physical readiness. I’ve realised this week it will also, and maybe most importantly, be a test of my emotional readiness. I’ve been a bit sad all week. I love Sydney; I love my mates here, my life here and as …

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Naked Liberation at No 42 Lady Bay Beach – 22 February 2015

Until recently I was dreading Lady Bay. It is the second of, I think, three  ‘clothing optional’ beaches in Sydney (this one granted that status in 1976). The first in this project was beach No 13: Cobblers. I am not generally inclined to get my kit off in public. Prior to Cobblers I never had and I found the experience fairly nerve-wracking. Back then (20 February 2011 – so almost four years exactly) I was not as well equipped, mentally, to look at things that made me uncomfortable, step back, and question why. But several weeks ago, thinking about Lady Bay, I asked …

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