It’s not that I dawdled but I had some stuff to get done and I decided to do it at Ian’s and in Bellingen on Tuesday morning: the bicycle needed some looking after, I needed to catch up on some writing and posting, and I wanted to post some things home. It was nearly noon when, full of coffee & cake, I pedalled out of town on the North Arm Road bound for the coast.
It was warm, hot even, the sky a boundless blue bowl, the breeze negligible. I was whistling a bicycle tourist’s happy tune as I rode up and rolled down the undulating road past farm houses and paddocks full of milking cows. There was the smell of wood-smoke mingled with cow dung and the river glistened off my right shoulder.
Approaching Raleigh I paused for a heard of milkers crossing the road to be relieved of their dairy-goodness. They lumbered slowly and heavily toward the milking shed.
I turned south and joined the Pacific Highway for the first time for the run to the Urunga turn-off. It wasn’t far and it wasn’t bad – about the same as the New England but with, perhaps, more tucks and, of course, lots of construction zones.
I had only meant to stop for lunch in Urunga but when I pedalled away it was nearly 3 pm already. I got a few kilometres down the road to Hungry Head and realising I’d have at least another 12 kilometres of highway riding to the next town and caravan park so I decided to turn back and make my home in Urunga for the night.
The caravan park there is modern and well-appointed with free WiFi and a good camper’s kitchen – a win all around.
[googlemaps https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m29!1m12!1m3!1d55018.44653342629!2d152.9218907785927!3d-30.474267779332624!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!4m14!1i0!3e1!4m5!1s0x6b9c21cc6a8e815f%3A0x40609b490439360!2sBellingen+NSW!3m2!1d-30.452034299999998!2d152.8966816!4m5!1s0x6b9c2394222a2aa7%3A0x40609b490439a80!2sUrunga+NSW!3m2!1d-30.496629499999997!2d153.0207783!5e0!3m2!1sen!2sau!4v1430983574858&w=600&h=450]
I actually took the North Bank Road route via Raleigh – but can’t get Google to let me embed that map.
Reblogged this on Elizabeth Everett Cage.
[…] against the walk back up to the campsite. I fall asleep in a space where’d I’d last slept in Urunga – but under a northern sky. Tomorrow: Cinque Terre. Cinque fucking […]