Cycling the Otago Rail Trail – New Zealand

The Clyde dairy

A trip to the South Island of New Zealand is always exciting.  The pace of life always seems slower than the North Island.  It can feel as if you have stepped back in the past where life is less complex and time has no meaning.

We have come south to cycle the Otago Rail Trail, one of New Zealand’s most popular cycle trails.   Pedalling through 150km of Otago’s history and spectacular scenery easily tempted us!

Queenstown – New Zealand

The boyfriend, his beloved mum, and I have jumped on a small compact bus in Queenstown, heading for the fruit bowl town of Cromwell.  The roads spaghetti their way through the dry parched hills.

At Cromwell we are collected by the lovely husband and wife team of Shebikeshebikes and are driven to the sleepy town of Clyde.  Their company has arranged bicycle hire and everything else from accommodation, collection and pick ups, car hire and recommendations of what to see and do ( all at no extra cost).   All we are expected to do is pedal!

Clyde – New Zealand

Clyde – New Zealand

In Clyde we spend the night in the old Post Masters house.  It is now a Bed and Breakfast full of interesting colonial antiques.  We enjoy the evening in a local pub and are rewarded the following morning with a stunning crisp blue sky above.  We collect our bicycles complete with panniers and eagerly head out along a long gravel path…

The Post Masters house – Clyde

No mobile phones here!

All Quiet on the Technology Front

The brakes are off yet my bicycle wheels are still spinning.

Unfortunately my trusty computer felt as if the New Year celebrations were all a bit much so it decided to slink off and go and sulk. It took with it all my cycling photos… hence the reason as to why my blog has been so quiet.

I am currently in the process of fixing the computer’s problems and I am hoping to return soon so that 2013 will be another fun-filled year of pedalling tales!!

A Festive New Zealand Cycle

The festive season is here and there isn’t a hint of snow in New Zealand… The month of December is when the summer sun arrives to warm up this country and a bright red colour begins to adorn the coastline.   The native Pohutakawa trees come into bloom – their vibrant red flowers contrast beautifully against the back drop of the restless ocean and vast blue skies.

These crimson flowers twinkle like an array of Xmas tinsel easily attracting insects and birds.  They only seem to decorate the Pohutakawa tree around Christmas time, hence we New Zealander’s have adopted them as our native christmas tree.

I wanted to go in search of these fabulous trees beginning to burst out in bloom and my bicycle was eager to go on the hunt.  Beginning at the busy Auckland viaduct I pedalled along the waterfront following a bike path that would take me all the way along the coast to Ladies Bay.

I weaved through tourists and locals leisurely enjoying the sudden arrival of summer.  The Victorian architecture of the Ferry building glowed in the sunshine looking historic and important.  I rode parallel beside another historic relic – the red wrought iron fence decorated with its grand lamps.

The bike path continued past many work buildings, multi-leveled apartments and Auckland city’s oversized container port.  Ship containers lay everywhere and most were piled high like lego blocks pieced together to make huge towers.  Giving way to a number of noisy trucks coming and going from the port was certainly necessary!

The bike path continued to follow beside a speedy traffic filled road.  Vehicles, vehicles and more vehicles…. New Zealander’s are very dependant on their cars.  The path then  curved as if opening a door and instantly the chaos of the city became invisible.

Instantly I had the radiant ocean on one side and row upon row of branch twisting Pohutakawa trees on the other.  They hugged the coast line for a few kilometres and their beloved bright red flowers had begun to show their colourful faces.

Rangitoto island sat in the harbour like a sleeping giant following my route from a distance.  The inviting ocean was full of bobbing boats and had become a playground for a class of children all learning how to canoe.  Their laughing and giggling floated magically to the shoreline.  Okahu bay greeted me with only a couple of people lounging under the shade of the trees.

With a slight breeze cooling my skin I pedalled past the Kelly Tarlton’s aquarium with its fabulous shark bus parked outside its doors.  I dismounted my bike to walk along a skinny wharf enjoying the sail boats racing in the breeze and a backdrop of the Auckland city skyline.

Back on my bicycle I cruised into Mission bay.  Pohutakawa trees and their flowers were dotted everywhere on my arrival.   Mission bay is a busy place with a golden sand beach, a lush green park and plenty of places to eat.  It is frequented my many.  I slowed my pace as I now shared the path with a handful of walkers and runners exercising in the fresh air.

The next few bays – Kohimarama and St Heliers were very close to each other and I find myself admiring the elegant homes and scenic views that they enjoy daily.  The locals are out under the protection of their sun hats eating ice creams and splashing about in the small waves.

In St Heliers the bike trail comes to an end but I continue cycling up the hill to Ladies bay.  It is the only climb on this ride and I have to admit – I loved it!!

At the top of the hill Pohutakawa flowers are sprouting like bouquets.  They are endless.  At the top I stopped at the viewing platform which overlooks the gulf harbour.  The scene is one of a true New Zealand christmas – Sunshine, blue skies and thousands of twinkling Pohutakawa flowers!

Speeding down a Volcano! – Hawaii

The continuing tale…

I made sure every inch of my skin was covered with some form of padded clothing – In the early hours of the morning, at the height of 6,000 ft or more it can be very chilly on the side of a volcano.   The island of Maui was still awakening from the shadowy darkness and I think we were too?

Perched upon our bicycles my boyfriend, our mates and I released our brakes and let our wheels roll down the volcanic mountain towards the turquoise waters of the Pacific ocean.  Pedalling was not necessary.  The steep gradient quickly increased our bicycle speed ensuring that we concentrated on the twists and turns in the road…

We couldn’t escape the icy cold air buffering our padded clothing at the speed we were going.  We simply grinned and bared it.   As the road carved itself down the mountain we gazed at the edges of the island below, witnessing the sun stem into the sky warming the land with her glorious rays.

We all hollered and shouted out in delight like kids chasing each other.  The thrill of being chased enticed each one of us into wanting to be at the front.  The tactic of slip streaming  and then over-taking one another easily became a game of cat and mouse.

My huge helmet bobbed about and made it difficult to see at times,  my brakes were used on these occasions and I was grateful for them.  Keeping on the correct side of the road was a must.  Some of the tight bends could easily have you hit an oncoming vehicle if you were on the wrong side.

At one point one of our mates decided to cycle off-road for an extra thrill of excitement – he went around a corner and then I saw him go flying up off the road and onto the grassy mountain side.  He whizzed over the grass at top speed resembling Evel Knievel.  He cut out half the road with this crafty technique!

As the gradient of the road became less steep we found ourselves using the pedals more and more.  On a single speed low geared bike pedalling looks very comical.  All of us had our legs jutting out to our sides and were spinning non stop like a hamster running in its wheel!

As we began to warm up, racing each other became more of a challenge .  The padded clothing began to be stripped off and tied to our bodies.  The removed clothing flapped about behind us in the warming morning breeze like crazy moths fluttering in the breeze.

Civilisation began to pop up on the lower part of the volcanic mountain and we stopped at one of the few eateries for a belly warming breakfast.

We indulged on fluffy pancakes with oozes of maple syrup and enjoyed watching the playful birds from the window.  Back on our bicycles we continued to roll like balls down empty roads and past sleepy homes.  By now the sun had become very warm and the thought of the ocean appealed greatly.

We wheeled into a very picturesque village having its market day and enjoyed the buzz of the market. Lots of local produce was being sold and we purchased a couple of the many fresh coconuts.  The store holder happily opened the coconuts and we drank its delicious water greedily.

The smell of the sea was in the air… the rolling lessened and the pedalling increased.  The last leg of the cycle bought us to a rocky outcrop with crashing waves,  Waves that cruised in from the depths and hit the land with a force that made you sit up and notice…

As sat on our bicycles watching a small handful of brave surfers artfully riding the waves the sun beat down on our exposed skin.  It was almost as if the cold and the dark had never happened?

Wow! What a ride…

Freewheeling down a Volcano – Hawaii

We are on the move again! We are heading home to New Zealand to catch the summer rays and enjoy the company of friends and family.  Flying such a long distance always allows us the opportunity to stop over and explore new places and one of my favourite stop over experiences has to be Hawaii, on the tropical island of Maui!

If I recall there was four us on this adventure – two of the Boyfriends old school mates had joined us for giant cocktails and lazy lounge chairs on the beach.  The island of Maui offered us a lot more than that though and it came in the shape of bicycles!

The Boyfriend had read a tourist brochure about a cycle ride from the top of the impressive Haleakala volcano leading all the way to the ocean.  It is stated that Mark Twain described the sunrise at the summit of Haleakala as the most sublimest spectacle he had ever seen.

We were all keen so we booked with the cycle company offering the ‘Sunrise – Summit to the Sea Tour’.  The sunrise tour would mean our day would begin at 1am, but that factor slipped our minds.  The excitement of whizzing down the side of a volcano on a bicycle was all we could talk about.

1am and pitch black. We fought sleep to stagger about like a bunch of sleepy giraffes wiping sleepy dust from our eyes.  It was particularly nippy so we all squeezed on plenty of thermal layers.  The roads were as quiet as mice as we drove to the tour office, only the noise of the car heater could be heard whirring while out the car window thousands of stars could be seen twinkling like jewels above.

At the tour office we were dressed up in over sized waterproof  jackets, baggy trousers, thick gloves and even given motorcycle helmets.  We wobbled about in the cold like overweight Santa’s.  Once tested for our bicycle size, we happily piled into a mini bus and were taken up the volcano.  Our helpful guide shouted out directions to help us on our return trip as we wove our way in the dark up the mountain.

As we weaved up the volcano the mini bus seemed to rock us all from side to side for what seemed like a life time.  One of our mates fell asleep on the way up and miss all the safety instructions…  At the summit of over 10,000ft the air was frightfully cold.  Upon leaving the warmth of the mini bus it hit us like biting daggers.  For everyone the walk to the viewing platform became more of a quick run.

The outline of the volcanic peaks could be seen against the faint light rays of the sun – it was a surreal landscape of pumice and raised peaks.   The more the sun peeked out from under its cover the more crimson the rocks became.

The biting cold took hold and quickly pushed everyone into the small information hut. We all squashed inside like a tin of human sardines trying to stay warm.

Braving the outside in short periods we attempted the walk up a small steep path to a higher point above the information hut.  Half way up the lack of oxygen in the air made me light-headed and had me gasping for breath.  As I returned to the viewing platform  the boys continued onwards and upwards.

The glamorous sky glowed as it slowly changed out of her dark black dress into a crisp blue one… beautiful.  With the arrival of the sun we got back on the mini bus and were taken to the base of Haleakala National Park at 6,500 feet to begin our 23 mile downhill bike tour.  We eagerly put on our motorcycle helmets, mounted our bicycles and began to roll down the side of this immense volcano in our baggy green waterproofs…

Here we go!….To be continued..

Cycling around Lake Annecy – France

The white flakes float down from the sky and settle outside layering the ground like ice cream twisting its way into a cone.  Winter has come to the French alps and I find myself reminiscing of when the sky was blue and the sun was radiating warmth.

Continuing to keep cycling in the chilly cold and trying to keep your extremities warm while keeping a watchful eye out for icy patches on the road would make anyone reminisce of warmer times…

Our visit to Lake Annecy was made when the sun was blazing and one’s skin could be crisped in the heat.  We were visiting new friends in Menthon St Bernard, they were residing close to the lake, a short stroll from the beautiful hotel Palace de Menthon.  After a hearty lunch it was decided that a cycle around the Lake was a must.  Excited to go exploring I was the first one ready and raring to go.

Skinny suburban roads easily led our wheels down to the water’s edge where we found plenty of dozing adults basking like kebab skewers under the oven like heat of the sun,  giggling children were splashing in the lake’s shallow depths while small stylish boats bobbed beside a handful of tiny wooden jetty’s.   The Palace De Menthon with its fancy  staircase sat grandly beside the lake like a majestic lady in waiting.

The boys decided that they would cycle the long way around the lake.   I decided to take the shorter route.  They wanted to race at speed and since I wanted to dawdle and enjoy the views it seemed like the ideal plan. We would all meet up in Annecy’s old town.

As I pedalled off on my own the back drop behind me looked like a rustic postcard of days gone past – the hotel, the stylish people and colourful boats. It was elegance and class all rolled into one.

The path, dotted with leafy knotted trees followed the lake edge for a short time before turning off to climb the inclines of quiet roads.  I cycled past a few dog walkers and elderly folk enjoying their day.  At the top of the small hill and the view of the lake fell open before me.  It was a real treat to feast on its pure blueness.  The hazy outline of the mountains surrounded the lake enhancing its colour and it made me want to go swimming!

The quiet roads I was pedalling on were sleepy compared to the constant hum of the busy D909 road that lay parallel.  I enjoyed zipping past juicy fruit trees jangling their delicious wares, peeking at rustic architecture hidden behind sparse bushes and seeing cheerful locals digging in their lush gardens.  This tranquility disappeared as soon as I joined the cycle path on the main road.

The closer I got to Annecy old town the more everything became like spaghetti junction.  It was certainly a busy day and the road was complete with every vehicle large and small, fast and slow.  Other cyclists began to appear on the cycle path and their numbers increased the closer I got to town.

People were everywhere – Like ants moving about in a hurry.  I had to slow down and stay alert.  I did not want to run the risk of knocking anyone down or be knocked off my bicycle by a random day dreamer. 

I was glad when the cycle path finally widened and returned to the lakes edge where it collaboratively joined with huge pedestrianised pavements.  With the abundance of open space the scene quickly improved.

A buzz of activity was all around me!  Pleasure boats and paddle boats were being hired, kites were flying in the skies above and lovers walked hand in hand over Lovers’ bridge.  The lake lay twinkling its eyes at the joyous energy that was being created in its vicinity.

I found the boys at a busy intersection – it was perfect timing.  We pedalled over bumpy cobble stones and squeezed down tiny walkways into the old part of town where we enjoyed a freshly brewed coffee and a tasty bite to eat.

We sat and marvelled at the bricks and mortar that were standing around us dating from the 12th century.

The sun prickled our skin as we lazed enjoying the day just like everyone else.  Perfect!