Cycling in a skirt

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


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Chile Con Cycle; Bike Touring The Middle Bits

My promise to myself in 2020 was to bring the blog up to date with past adventures before revealing the exciting new ones planned for this year. A little while ago now (OK, 9 months but who’s counting) I started writing about the first part of our 2018 Chilean adventure by bike. Part one was the spectacular experience mountain biking in the Atacama Desert and a prelude to the main part of our trip, the plan to go cycle touring in the Patagonian South of the country.

Like all good plans however this one had a couple of small flaws. Continue reading


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Cycling in Chile: Riding through the desert on a bike with no chain….

The vast and desolate beauty of the desert has inspired some of the greatest writers and thinkers of all time. Or, if you’re me, it inspires the corruption of some very catchy song lyrics …”I’m riding through the desert on a bike with no chain….” Continue reading


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Getting High: Thrills and Downhills

The last two things you expect to find in Wales are sunshine and wallabies. As it turns out, there are plenty of both. Who knew?! Continue reading


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Remind me, why did I agree to this?

Do you ever find yourself blithely saying ‘yes’ to things without thinking them through, then suddenly days or even weeks later actually fully realise the consequences of doing so.

Yup, me too. Continue reading


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Mountains and Molehills

12 months, 5 days and a scattering of hours.

No, not the amount of time since I last wrote a blog although it does seem like it. Actually it’s the time elapsed since I last set foot (or wheels) on this exact spot, although so much has happened since, it seems like a lifetime ago. Continue reading


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The Secret of Eternal Youth

It is a lesser known but universal rule that, if your birthday falls whilst holidaying in another country, you don’t get any older.

Absolute truth. Continue reading


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Cycling on the surface of the moon

I appear to be cycling on the moon. That or in one of those paintings of Hell by Hieronymus Bosch. Huge volcanic mounds rising from a dead ocean of gnarled, blackened lava rock; a lunar-sea of rubble broken only by thin ribbons of silken tarmac which slide sinuously through the hellish terrain.

First impressions: if this is hell, then it’s got great roads to cycle on. Continue reading