Cycling in a skirt

One life, some bicycles. A million possibilities, zero clue!


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Wildlife Encounters of the Sunshine Coast. Vancouver and beyond.

There are just 2 small screws remaining when, after 90 minutes of squatting on the carpet in the baggage hall, our pile of cardboard, plastic and tape has magically transformed back into 2 touring bikes and luggage.
I wouldn’t care if it was an IKEA flat pack but the screws niggle at me as we finally push out of customs and into the bright sunshine of Vancouver airport arrivals.
After being on the move for nearly 24 hours it’s a relief that we and the bikes have made it. The start of 12 months of round the world travel here we come…. or maybe not as, switching on the garmins to pull up the route we realise that, of all the things on our long to do list, we may have forgotten to load the maps for North America. My screen shows an arrow amidst a bland sea of blue. Good start! Continue reading


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Another Bike Box in Another Hall

Until recently I’ve never slept in so many different places. Over the past 3 months we’ve rarely spent more than one or 2 nights in the same place and only a handful of stops have been for longer. In fact, until now, I think I’ve only fully unpacked my panniers and hung up my clothes once.

It’s amazing how quickly you can get used to living out of a bag and to moving on every day or so. I’ve become very adept at being able to reach into my clothes bag and select by feel the item I want to wear. To be honest it’s not a massive choice, but it means I rarely need to unpack everything.

Until now. Continue reading


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The Roads to Almost Nowhere; Cycling across Croatia.

In all fairness we both saw the big, red X sign at the start of the military road but it’s amazing what you can convince yourself to ignore when doggedly following a line on the sat nav.

The route we had picked seemed to have unwittingly taken us through a restricted military area, for about 10 miles.
Now my lack of language skills meant that the warning signs could have said “Road closed at night for firing practice”. Or this is what I sheepishly tried to explain to the stern looking gentleman in the military jeep who pulled us over then unequivocally escorted us back to the main road and a 15 mile detour.
Bugger. Continue reading


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Getting In Tents

If Carlsberg did campsites they would look like this one. All marble walls, heated floors and lavender scented soap. The showers are, in fact, so nice I feel that I am too grubby to use them, a first in my entire camping life and a world away from the site we have just left. Continue reading


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Swimming and slowing down in the Soča Valley

It’s not often that you get to tell people that you enjoy a good slap, yet for the last week I’ve experienced a fair few.
Before we go any further, slap is the Slovenian word for a waterfall (sorry to disappoint) something of which there have been many these last days. Continue reading