There’s a lump in my throat and my eyes are watering as we whizz along the river path, heading out to the north of Seoul. Partly it’s the incessant dust that coats everything here but also I’m quite emotional.
This is my last ever ride on Custard the touring bike, as today I’m delivering him to his new home and family in the city.
I feel like I’m handing over a child, albeit not a favourite one. Continue reading
The ribbon of pristine black asphalt snakes away into the distance, bisected by a neat white dotted line. Bordered on one side by the Nakdonggang river and on the other by tall grass. The sounds of busy traffic can be heard faintly, blowing in on the breeze but mostly overpowered by the calls of birds and frogs.
What’s weird, is that this isn’t some quiet backcountry lane but a dedicated cycle path, stretching further than the horizon. It’s totally deserted. A whole bike motorway just for me. Continue reading
There’s an old gentleman lying on the pavement, bleeding from a cut on his face, half tangled in a fallen bicycle. Worse still it’s probably my fault. Continue reading
After 4 and a half months in New Zealand the time has finally come to say goodbye. Weirdly it only seems like yesterday that we were arriving and yet here we are back in Auckland and packing the bikes into boxes again, this time bound for Tokyo, Japan. Continue reading
There was a Dutchman, a Canadian and a Kiwi standing at the top of a hill…..
No, not the start of some bad joke, there actually was.
All giving us much encouragement and praise as we puffed and sweated up the road towards them the scenic Rakaia Gorge viewpoint and the end of a big climb. Continue reading
Cycling in a skirt 