Tour Report: 9th to 20th of August, Day 3 to Day 14, Taipei

After 6 days working as an interpreter for the Honduras U17 football team I found myself back in my sister's place. I was planning to leave Taipei and head for Keelung this Friday(17), but the idea was being postphoned by typhoon Sepat, the third that coincided with my journey. So I waited and waited till I finally got to leave the capital by the 21st.

By the 19th of august the sky was cleared of all ill temper, but my resolution was shaken. Well, not exactly resolution, but rather the willingness to keep cycling. Too much rest days and the unstable weather had taken its toll on me, it was just so meaningless, I didn't like leaving home just to stay in another house, I was suppose to be out there sweating and all that, and not watching the telly or surfing the net for days on end.

So by the 20th when the weather was clearer than ever, my thoughts, on the contrary, were overshadowed by the idea of hitting home. 12 days off the bike really had an enormous effect on me, I had somehow sank back into the sedentary hole from which I managed to escape some 14 days earlier. That was when you realized that you were not so strong psychologically as you liked to imagine.

My willingness to quit was doubled by the news that another atmospheric depression was forming some 2000km to the east of Taiwan and there was the low but possible probability that it might effect us. Therefore despite that the 20th was a glorious day for some jolly decent cycling, I stayed in Taipei, indecisive of what I should do.

Still, I couldn't quit just yet, the reason was simple - 177k was just so shameful. At least I had to make it to Ilan because the forecast said that for the next 3 days the weather seemed to be still quite good. However, that wasn't the real reason behind my reluctance to go home at this point, the real reason behind was that I couldn't go home like that! I didn't feel like going back, you know, it was just a feeling, I knew that I wasn't ready to go home, and even if I did I wouldn't be happy to settle down to concentrate on my dissertation, my mind would still linger on the trip and of what could have been.

I can't go home just yet, it wasn't the way to put an end to this. I had to keep going. I need to go to Ilan.

***

八月九號至二十號

在六天的隨團翻譯工作結束之後我再次回到我姐家。本來是想要兩天後（17號）繼續上路前往基隆，但是天公不作美，馬上又給我來了一個聖柏，這已是我這次環島所遇到的第三個颱風了。聖柏對我之後的旅程造成了決定性的影響，因為它把連接宜蘭和花蓮的蘇花公路給弄壞了。

到了19號時颱風已過而且天氣晴朗，但是我卻不想繼續騎了。太多時間待在同一個地方沒有進展再加上天氣不穩定好一天壞一天使我動身的意願動搖。照這樣騎下去的話一點意思也沒有，我不是因為要住別人家才離家的，我應該在太陽下騎車、前進，而不是在別人家當宅男。

20號，風和日麗，但我的心情卻烏雲密佈。天氣因素加上太多的休息使我佇足不前，我又安逸了下來，而這安逸又使我變得沒用了。這時你就會再次地了解到自己並不是像想像中的堅強。但這也是只有一個人時的優點：不管你喜不喜歡，你都被迫要面對它，沒有別人可以依靠。

連日無謂的休息加上預報說台灣東方海面2000公里處又有低氣壓形成，機會不大但有可能會變成另一道颱風侵襲台灣。所以縱使20日是外出愉悅騎車遊玩的良辰吉日，我卻待在家裡，猶豫不決。騎還是不騎？這就是問題所在。

但，不論如何我不能如此輕易地就打道回府。原因很簡單：177公里實在是讓先人蒙羞的少。就算蘇花斷了，我最少也要騎到宜蘭，因為氣象預報說之後三天應該會是好天氣。但其實里程數的多少並不是讓我繼續的真正原因，真正的原因是我不能這樣就回家！我並不想回家！這是一個fu的問題，我還沒準備好要回去。因為我知道即使我真的在台北就結束玩樂坐車回沙鹿，我也不會甘心就這樣坐下來寫論文，我並不想讓它就此結束，我全部的心思會繼續留在環島而不是課業上，我會坐立難安，我會不停地想那未完的旅程。這樣就回去一點意義（實質或非實質的）也沒有。

我不能這樣就回家，我會終結這次的旅行，但台北不是結束它的地方，時機未到。我必須繼續，我必須去宜蘭。

Tour Report: 8th of August, Day 2, Hsinchu - Taipei, 93k

The wind outside was playing the imperial march while I woke up. I didn't have to look out of the window to know that the trees were all bowing down before its presence. But I did anyway, and they were. Still haven't made up my mind as to cycle or not to cycle, so I packed my gear without much haste despite it was already 7am. By the time Irma, the bike, was loaded, I was delighted to find out that the weather was better than superb. According to the ecclesiastical chauffeur, following the then coastal Expressway No.15 all the way to Taipei was without the slightest doubt so much faster than the Provincial Highway No.1, contrary to the comparison I made on the map. But I decided to have faith in the locals.

However, as time went by, my faith dwindled. Then it went through a complete crisis after I found out, about some 40 minutes later, that I was just approaching NanLiao. Only now did I finally realized why the chauffeur said it was faster: despite being the longer route, it bypassed the major towns and big cities, so thanks to that it was indeed much faster - for a motored vehicle. But I was on a pushbike you see.

When I was exchanging information with the roadside truck drivers, one of them offered to give me a lift to Taoyuan, in 2 hours you will be there. It was a very enticing offer because, first, it was around 10am already and I wasn't on the right track; and, second, it started to drizzle again. But I wasn't to give up just yet, no matter how much my legs liked the idea. So I pushed on and took the County Road No.118 to Jhubei just before Sinfong. After an idyllic 5k I was back on Provincial Hwy No.1.

It felt superb to be back on the track, but it was a short lived one. The seemingly short distance between Jhubei and Yangmei was heavily guarded by headwinds. The ambush started there, and they just kept blowing and blowing and blowing at my face till the sun went down. I was quickly worn out by their persistent blows and the pathetic little hills, which would normally pose no threat to my stamina at all. Even my downhill speed was reduced to less than 10km/h.

It was noon, the sun was high in the sky, and soared likewise was my temper. It was frustrating this ultra slow haul, and on the way up yet another hill I finally had it, mustering the strength I had left, I jumped off the bike before a crew of road construction workers.

While I sat there hiding from the sun and replacing the lots of liquids I'd lost, one of the workers, a middle-aged woman, approached me with bags of rice in her hands. Later she also brought me several bottles of water enough to fill the Shihmen Reservoir. So there I was having lunch by the side of the road with a bunch of dirty workers, but I couldn't be prouder to be side by side with my benefactor. When I was done, I was ready to confront the wind.

Reality showed that the wind was commited to take up the challenge, it was a test of wills. Slowly yet steadily I made my way towards Jhongli and then Taoyuan. I was thinking about ringing Benita, but later figured what good would it does anyway, she was in Guanyin, some 20 to 30k to the west, while it was already 1700 and my destination was still some 3 hours to the east. So I pushed on. By the time I reached Jhonghe, where my sister and brother-in-law lived, I had not a trickle of strength left in my body and I can only cruise on my smallest gear (the smallest ring in the front and the biggest ring in the rear). I was beat after 11 hours on the road.

***

八月八號.

當我醒來時窗外的風正大肆的吹奏著帝國進行曲，不用想也知道外面的花草樹木都屈服在它的淫威之下。我還沒決定到底要怎樣，是要坐車，還是要騎？但我其實已有坐車的打算了，所以我慢慢的整理裝備，但是當我終於整裝待發走出教堂時外面的天氣卻是萬里無雲。根據教堂御用司機之言，走濱海15號快速公路會比走台一線快到台北。雖然這跟我在地圖上計算的結果不同，但我還是決定相信當地人的話。

但是差不多40分鐘之後我對 "當地人之言" 的信心完全粉碎，因為我才剛要接近南寮！直到這時我才完全了解到為什麼御用司機會說走濱海公路比較快：因為它閃過了很多大大小小的鄉鎮和都市，所以縱使它比較長，往來的車輛卻會比較早到目的地。但問題是我騎的是自行車，這對我一點好處也沒有，只會讓我花更多時間走多餘的路。

就當我在路旁和大卡車司機討論路線時，其中一位自願讓我人和車撘他便車去桃園。只要兩個小時就到了，他說。這當時對我來說是個妙到不行的主意，因為幾乎整個早上已經被我在這裡瞎逛逛到沒了，而且現在天上又開始飄下雨來。但我還是不能接受他的好意，我要先試過在說，反正路上車這麼多，真的不行時再撘便車就好了，我不能連試都沒試就給他放棄了，我不是吃飽太閒來放棄的。所以我繼續回到車上，於經過南寮之後我右轉走縣道118號接竹北。之後在騎了5公里令人心曠神怡的小路我終於再次接上台一線。這是令人振奮的一刻！但那高昂的士氣很快的就將消失殆盡...

在竹北跟楊梅這短短一段等著我的竟然是永無止盡的逆風。那些小山丘也因逆風的關係而壯大聲勢，變的有如喜馬拉雅山似的，連下坡時我的速度竟然也超不出每小時10公里。不久(但感覺起來像是過了一輩子)，我也因此而疲憊不堪。當我在那裡緩慢地拖著我笨重的車前進時正好日正當中、艷陽高照，相對的，我的脾氣也節節提升。

就在我緩緩的攻上那一個接一個的山坡時我終於受夠了，我聚集所有剩下的力量跳下車來。而不偏不倚地，就在我停下來地方的旁邊坐了一群正在休息的修路工人。其中一個中年婦人看我坐在那裡喝水吃餅乾的樣子就爬起來，朝我走了過來。她的手中握著好幾包的白飯和一包鹹菜。之後她又帶了多到可以讓石門水庫潰堤的礦泉水來給我。所以我中午就在這一群全身是土的工人旁補充精力。雖然是坐在塵土飛楊的路旁吃那不起眼的飯，但我卻因為可以坐在那婦人旁而格外感覺驕傲。

當我再次爬起來時，我已經準備好要來跟風作面對面的對抗了。

而事實也證明了那風也是有備而來，這是一場意志力的對決，我唯一的出路就是咬牙騎到台北，因為它是不會主動退出這場競賽的。緩慢的，我一步一步地騎過中壢，接著桃園。當我下午5點在桃園時本來是想打給貝拉，但後來想說觀音離桃園還有一段距離，再者我現在離今天的終點尚有三小時的車程(就平常的速度而言是不用三小時的，但現在我已經很疲憊了，兩天下來的平均時速差不多12.2公里，所以三小時是合理的估算。兩年沒騎車，體力的差別很明顯)，所以我略俟休息後就繼續趕路。

因為天色已黑，再加上在忽然所有的房屋、商店都不見了，剩下的只有黑漆漆的山壁及昏暗的道路，所以在迴龍好幾公里的下坡時我不安的想著說如果走錯路要調回頭的話我就真的要騎到12點才會到。好險事後證明這是庸人自擾。當我騎到中和時我體內已經沒有任何力量，我只是撐著用最輕檔(齒盤前面放最小，後面放最大)一路雙腳慢慢地旋轉(spin) 到我姐和姐夫住的地方。在經過了今天的11小時之後我已經精疲力竭。

Tour Report: 7th of August, Day 1, Shalu - Hsinchu, 84k

It was 0940 when I took the right turn and slid out of the front gate of the uni with grace. The shocked and consequently dumbfounded expression on the guard's face was priceless, I couldn't help grinning. The first stop was the Japanese department, followed by the Spanish and ended with the ATM of the post office. There concluded the short trip to the uni and the beginning of the proper ride.

In a little more than an hour I found myself entering Dajia. If my memory services me right, it had already been like 6 years since the last time I was here. Didn't linger for too long, just pedalled through, but the impression it gave me wasn't too bad. However, it could be just me for I was fresh setting off and the elements hadn't had their hands on me yet.

Shortly after lunch in a roadside FamilyMart somewhere between Yuanli and Tongsiao, it started first to drizzle and then shower down the road. The weather forecast man surely wasn't bullshitting this time. After a gentle round of verbally versatile rhetorical exchange with the rain under the shade of a grocery store, I put my sleeping bag in the heavy duty black garbage bag courtesy of the friendly folks over there at the Arigato gozaimasu department, and my handlebar bag in another one. With rain and safety (reflective vest, thanks Grace!) gear up, I promptly got out of shelter.

Guaranteed To Keep You Dry™ my ass, about an hour into cycling in the rain I was soaking wet, not from the rain breaching the outer shell, but from the gathering moisture and sweat imprisoned inside the barrier, let alone my rain pants which were just normal nylon. At the end of the day I was as wet as the result of a galactic orgasm.

Then before me the road bifurcated into two separate ways all leading to Hsinchu, one followed the faster coastal Expressway No.61; and the other was the originally planned route, longer yet faithful to the old Provincial Highway No.1 through Toufen. I'd been trying of no avail to get in touch with A-Pe ever since I past Tongsiao trying to tell her that I was in the vicinity. So I rang her again and waited for sometime at the bifurcation. Upon not getting any replies and the hour too late I decided to take the No.61 and head for the day's destination directly.

Just as I was taking a break from the uphill made incessant by the rain and chatting with the farmer, Mi-Er and A-Pe rang. But calculating the extra kilometres, the hour and the strength I had left, I knew it was already too late for me to turn back at this point. When I reached Toufen I wouldn't be able to do the remaining 18k to Hsinchu. So I pushed on and when I finally hit Hsinchu the moon was hanging high on the sky.

The church charged me an extortionate NT500 (US15) for one night, surely the nun was passionate about ripping off sincere, talented yet short-of-fund youth. Hsinchu strikes me as an odd place, it didn't feel like a city at all, only later did I found out that I hadn't entered the city yet, I was still in the outskirt. That night it rained and the wind blew so that alone in the spacious room inside the church with only the cellphone connecting me to the outside world, keeping in touch with any real human beings, my thoughts were overshadowed by the following day's ride to Taipei.

***

八月七號.

早上9點40我優雅的做個90度的彎衝出學校大門往清水方向快速推進。當我8點半緩緩騎進學校時，站在門口校警隊工讀生那像看到神經病的表情真是讓我想到就好笑。校內拍照比耶的第一站是日文系，接著是西文系，最後是郵局的提款機。

約莫一個小時之後我人已經在大甲溪橋上。如果我沒有紀錯的話，最近一次來大甲已經是6、7年前大二或大一的事了，我對自己國家地理的不熟悉也不是完全沒有理由。我並沒有在大甲逗留太久，但是它給我的印象還不算太差，可是現在說還不準因為我才剛開始騎不久，速度不錯，士氣還算高昂，也還沒有遇到任何狂風或是暴雨。

像是預言般似的，於苑裡和通霄中某處路旁的一間就是你家吃過中餐後不久毛毛細雨就開始在天上隨風而飄。起先我還不是很在意，但當它倏地變形成磅礡的天殺大雨時我只好落荒而逃趕緊找地方躲起來。在和從天而降的生命泉源低聲辯論過一些有關長輩的議題之後，我把手把袋用塑膠袋包著，睡袋則放進日文系熱情贊助的黑色大垃圾袋裡。我也穿上雨衣、雨褲和反光背心繼續前進。

在雨中騎了差不多一個小時，我因為穿雨衣濕氣跑不出去加上流汗而全身溼透，當我騎完之後我就濕的有如剛看完A片似的。“保證讓您乾爽”，再一次證明了廠商的廣告總是誇大不實，而且價格貴的嚇人。

不久，台一線分叉：一條比較長，經過頭份通往新竹；另一條比較短，接西濱61號快速公路直接連新竹。自從經過通霄之後我便一直打給阿pe，但都沒有人接，我在交叉口又等了一會兒卻也是沒有回應。最後因為時間的壓力，我當下就決定走較短的西濱跳過頭份。但就當我於騎上那因雨勢而更顯永無止盡的小山坡而疲憊不堪在路旁和農夫交換有關天氣的訊息時，她們打了過來。但這為時已晚，等我折返，再到頭份時我早就沒有精力再騎到新竹，而且等到那時天色勢必已晚。

我一向不是很喜歡晚上趕路。在冰島有一次因為朋友早上六點多的飛機，所以我就摸黑拔營動身前往差不多30幾公里外的機場送行。不久，當地的朋友聽到這件事之後，卻跟我說我走的那條公路上傳言有女鬼出沒。

所以我就繼續沿著西濱走，當我抵達新竹時月亮已經高掛在天邊。當然，我不是因為怕遇到阿飄而毅然決定走西濱，這是原則的問題。

經過路人指點，我住進一間教堂裡。那修女我不用懷疑，直接認定她是掛羊頭賣狗肉，因為她竟然跟我索取500元住宿費！這簡直是土匪搶人，現在就只差她頭上戴著絲襪、手中握著棒球棍我就可以叫警察來抓人了。但因為我又髒又餓又累只想洗澡吃飯睡覺所以保護費繳一缴就給他進去了。當晚狂風大作，而雨就像洩洪一樣撲天蓋地淹了下來，獨自坐在空蕩蕩的教堂內寬敞的房間裡，我唯一跟外界的聯繫就是我的手機。看著窗外，這時我心理已經有需要坐車去台北的準備，但是問了好幾間客運它們都不能帶腳踏車，阿火車又不能同時和人一起到，於是我就在煩惱著明天到底要怎樣去台北中睡著了。

Tour Report: 6th of August, Kilometre 0

I'm officially starting the trip tomorrow. Came home rather late tonight, it'd already last 2400 when I started to pack, and when I was done it was 0300. Didn't feel sleepy though, I was a bit worried, hoping that I'll be catching the first ray of light rising up the horizon, but I was also aware that it was pointless to wake up so early because I was going to the uni to bid farewell and only till after 0830 will everybody be there, so an early start will be impossible.

Woke up about 3 hours later, so astronomically punctual I was as precise as an atomic clock. Guess I was a bit nervous. Of course I'm no newbie in cycle touring, but it'd already been 2 years since the last time I was on the road on my loaded rig, think I was getting a bit rusted, the sedentary lifestyle was having an undetected negative effect on me, I was taking things for granted with or without realizing it. Yes, I was nervous and excited. I was about to mutter with stiff upper lip "why the fuck are you doing this for, punk?" again on the road amid the pain in the left knee, lower back, bottom, wrist, palm, neck, rain, sweat, headwind, heat, uphill, thirst, hunger and the sun.

The somberness of leaving behind the job and my students was temporarily gone. I was soon to be on the road again, to be on the move, I felt full of life. And likewise so full of life were a series of typhoons that were gearing up for the rendezvous in the days to come.

***

八月六號.

明天我就要上路了。去年沒能騎的環島今年終於有時間去了。今天有點晚才回家，這讓我想到Angeliki在西班牙的最後一晚，她的飛機是早上7點或是8點多從馬德里飛回希臘，但她這傢伙到了3點多還在那裡爛醉說她連行李都還沒打包。想起來還滿有趣的。當我發動引擎從逢甲飆回家時已經是晚上12點多了，我飛快似的整理裝備，一搞就是兩三個小時。雖然我一點睡意都沒有但還是上去躺個意思，因為幾個小時之後我就要上路了，但其實我沒有要這麼早出發，因為我還要去學校跟人道別而他們要到八點半之後才會全部都在，所以可以多睡一點。

早上六點我精神飽滿地出去吃早餐，躺不到三個小時卻一點睡意都沒有，自從課程結束之後我再也沒有這麼早起來。我想我有一點緊張。想不到吧，平常時看不出來，但我的確有一些不安。我雖然不是單車旅行的菜鳥，但是最近一次騎已經是兩年前在澳洲的事了，兩年來不動的生活方式已經讓我安逸下來，讓我變的有點沒用了。我需要出去碰觸，那感覺，讓我知道我還活著，還沒腐爛到無可救藥的地步，想到這裡我那因為丟下工作及學生而悶悶不樂的心情也稍微好轉。

的確，我有點緊張。再過幾個小時之後我左膝蓋、下背部、臀、手腕、手掌、頸部的酸痛以及雨、汗、逆風、熱浪、上坡、口渴、飢餓和大太陽將誘引我再一次咒罵自己白痴為甚麼出來活受罪。我就要上路了，再次靠自己的力量前進，我感覺充滿活力；在東方地平線的盡頭，帕布及其尚在娘胎中的兄弟們也蓄勢待發準備上路。

Tour Report: Cycling Taiwan

Well, this is the first entry for this year's tour, actually this trip was planned for last year, but since I started to work last August as teaching assistant in the uni it was unfortunately post phoned. Last month I quit my job and the masochistic voice within told me that it was time to be back on the road again. My sorrying ass was longing for some cursed soreness.

Today is the ninth day into the trip and I'd already covered 177k... eh? What the hell? I know, I know it sounds pretty lame, even the 90 year-old grandpa of your neighbour can do better than that I know, but just let me explain the whole thing, yeah?

Day one, started from my garage in Shalu and ended in Hsinchu in the north-west of Taiwan, following the Provinicial Highway No.1 and then the coastal Expressway No.61, 84k.

Day two, from Hsinchu to Taipei, mistakenly took the No.61, headed back midway to pick up No.1, 93k.

So far so good, eh? So what was it that kept me here in the capital for such a long time? Well, there was this interpreter job for the Honduras football team which came here to get ready for the FIFA U-17 World Cup 2007 in Korea. So after resting for one day which I desperately needed, detailed descriptions later, I headed to the hotel where they lodged. So since the 4th day of my trip I was temporarily off the bike working and having fun with the team till today - day 9.

To be honest, I didn't like the idea of breaking up my trip at first, besides I wanted to see my students off in the airport, but after a moment of pondering, I reckoned it quite beneficial from a working-travelling point of view, something which I'd desired for sometime, you know the romantic view of being on the road with the money you earned along the road. It wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, and I can always take the bus or train to the airport if I failed to end my journey before the flight to Spain and come back later to pick up where I left it anyway.

So here I am entering the 10th day and still 177k, averaging 12.2k/h... Hmm... Looks like I got some more explanations to do, but it's going to be the next time, probably tomorrow or sometime after that when I have connection to the internet again. I know 12.2k/h looks ultra lame, even the 90 year-old grandma of your neighbour can do better than that I know, but I'm no weenie, there was a very good reason behind that. Oh, blast it! My cycle computer is broken, I tried to pry it open but to no avail, I hope it's not too expensive to get a new one.

Alright, guess I'll stop the intro here and tie up the loose ends the next time. After that, the posts will come up chronologically and in both English and Mandarin. See you then.

Travel Ennui

Last night on the Lonely Planet site I read about this experimental travel thing and my first reaction was, "it's absurd!" But after getting more into it I found out that that was exactly the point - the absurdity. And later I realized that it was precisely this unreasonableness that makes life more wonderful and meaningful. Just what I need now.

Experimental Travel is said to have its roots in the varied practices and philosophies of modern alternative thinkers from the Surrealists to the Psychogeographers, and Joël Henry, founder of Latourex (Laboratory of Experimental Travel) also that the author of LP's Guide to Experimental Travel, is said to have coined the term in 1990. However, being a devoted subscriber to the believe that,

That which has been is that which shall be;
And that which is done is that which shall be done:
And there is no new thing under the sun.

I believe this seemingly ludicrous idea was to be found so much earlier in History. And it does, and more surprising yet not so surprisingly, the very person who is writing these words had quoted them before in this blog. As near as I know, this idea was already present back in 1605 in Cervante's Don Quijote de la Mancha where the ingenious knight said to his faithful squire, "Ahí está el punto y esa es la fineza de mi negocio. Que volverse loco un caballero andante con causa, ni grado ni gracias, el punto está en desatinar sin ocasión."

Joël says, 'Experimental Travel is travel with constraints, that at the same time liberates you from the limitations and expectations of classic tourism. By travelling with the constraints of Experimental Travel, you conversely have more freedom.' But the scope is without doubt so much wider than just travelling, it has everything to do with life itself and life is, afterall, a big journey. Experimental Travel forces you to think form another perspective and this act in itself is liberating. For many, travelling becomes nothing but a acquisition of sights and stuff, something to inflate their ego with and then it bores them, wondering where should I go next? what should I do next? Been there, done that, but no real feelings, no appreciation but a constrained self-deceiving mechanism, like a competition, like regarding one as a hero and the countries the deeds, but life it no competition, life should not be one. I sometimes wonder if I would become like that one day and it troubles me.

Tour Report: All Is Full of Love

Because Malaysiair gave me free airport accomodation and the fact that on both of my international flights I had to stay in the airport for quite a long time I went to look for it. Well, the hotel was a real luxury but still I would prefer something less fancy (I actually did feel quite awkard when having my free meal in the hotel restaurant, the people were way too polite, you know). Anyway, on the flight out of Taiwan 70 days ago I took the wrong train and ended up in the midst of Kuala Lumpur with only an hour and a half left till my connecting flight; this time, with my new and sharpened navigation skill, I was able to successfully track down the signs and locate the hotel shuttle bus with only a minor episode of queuing up in the hotel lobby for more than an hour and only to be told later that I was in the wrong place.

On the bus while I was explaining to the good-humoured bus driver the reason why he was being called back after he had left the airport 2 minutes ago and was already on the highway sprinting towards the hotel and all of a sudden I noticed the Aussie accent in my words and I realized I was in Oz no more. Held between my hands were the postcards I bought while I was in Darwin; on the way to the Greyhound station she was looking at one of them for quite a while and it was also the very one that met my eyes when I lowered my vision after I found out that I was away from the place that was my home for the last 69 days. That postcard saw both of us that night, but now all that I can see was it solo. I wondered when can I see her again in real life. Then I experienced a series of flashbacks and I saw the peoples I met on the road and the places I've been to and I felt, once more and not surprisingly, terribly alone, but, unexpectedly, it wasn't a Greek tragady like it used to be. What has to come will come, what is meant to be will be.

While I was in Sydney Grace told me that he saw a coffee table book on Iceland with a 5-dollars price tag on it in one of the charity shops! He asked me if he should get it for me before I went back to Adelaide, but then changed his mind because "nobody loves Iceland as much as you do".

He, knowing or unknowingly, pointed out the key element and the greatest thing about travelling which didn't even cross my mind until that moment. All that I cared about before was the mental growth, the learning curve, but that brief conversation over the phone revealed before me the truth and I realized that it was all about love, the love for another country and her people. Before I went to Spain and Iceland I wasn't really interested in them and as for Australia, a couple of years back I was actually wondering who the hell would want to go there. Yet every single time I fell hard for them sheilas. I feel good just by the sight of their names and the sound of their accents and everything related to them. Unless something had gone terribly wrong, would you hurt your loved ones?

Tour Report: Gloomy Tuesday

It's getting chill outside, kinda windy too, think it's going to rain soon/ read on the newspaper about the terrorists and some boy got incaricated and now have serious phycological disorder/ the living room in her flat's got a distinct colour and a different feeling/ don't know when can I come back and see her again/ need to ride to the bus station, but the legs are kinda tired, not from riding excessively/ haven't felt like this for a long time ever since I left Spain and the last time was because I was deeply in love with her, the girl called España/ it's getting dark now.

Tour Report: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

I'm leaving for Melbourne tomorrow night, but honestly, I don't feel the least yearning to go there, I have a feeling that it's going to be a hole, nevertheless, I'm still going there. Why? I'm travelling, I'm supposed to be free and go anywhere my heart damn pleases instead of the other way around, but why can't you just stay here in her place until the flight back home as you want it to be?

Like ants.

Performing some necessary function unknown to yourself, even while you're away from work, even when you think you're free.

Tour Report: Eternal Sojourn

The 7th day in Sydney, to be honest, if I didn't know anyone here I wouldn't even bother to come. Here I've done lots of things which didn't even cross my mind before, we cooked lamb with vegges and did Pavlova; went to a play which took place in a cemetery about the Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca; a walk in the Blue Mountains with Jacqui and the birthday dinner of her sister; to Yum Cha; and to the "church" with Hannah.

I have to say, I've really enjoyed Sydney so far. However, the thing within haunts me still, amongst the good atmosphere and the friendly lot.

I realized, or rather being reconfirmed, once more that I was unable to start an easy conversation because I simply didn't know what to say, because I was too damn absorbed into (or accustomed to) the so called serious issues that I was thinking literally nothing else but them, and apparently someone like that is, in one word, boring. Yes, I'm boring, I'm not pop, I'm not cool. And someone like that is destined to reside in a long lone fight.

Is this the "disappointment" like the guy said during the sermon that night in the "church"? Or is it simply the cruel recognition and acceptance of what one is?

Even though I'm having a great time here and the fact that I like it so much (because of Jacqui and Hannah, not because of the place) that I would really love to stay and become part of it, the sense of not belonging came out of its lair and shrouded me in its full embrace. You don't belong here, you don't belong to anywhere, you are to keep going and never stop, that's your design, your task, your destiny.

It was high spirit the night in the "church" (no wonder why people like to go to concerts so much), tears almost found their way into my eyes and onto the cheeks, "I trust in you" what simple words and yet what a solace it would be, all the sorrow and bitterness would be gone. But I just can't commit myself into it because what they said of their experiences and believes I don't see and I don't feel myself. I want to believe, to feel, to be troubled no more. What a bliss it would be to know that you're not alone, that you're being loved.

I want to, but I can't. I can't say or do something that I don't feel.

Is it really Fate or just My Fate? Guess you can call me the man without great conviction and the tragical/ironical insistence on the road to self-destruction.

Tour Report: Tropical Coldness

I'm exactly tired. The tide of tiredness took hold of me when I got into the city and the youth hostel. It was full of the likes of the "well-educated". It's bloody cold here, nobody smiles or says hi to you anymore. It's strewn with bitches and assholes.

On the corridor a girl past through me, with fancy dress and the cold look that labelled her a plain bitch. Saw her and her friend again later and judging from their clothings and the content of the conversation, they were going to some disco or something. To shake your ass and fast love with some muscular prick with a big sunny smile huh?

It's bloody freezing here, well, of course, it's winter now, stupid me.

Tour Report: Darwin

After 50 days on the road I finally got here.

Even though I have tons of things to do (reconfirm the flight to Sydney, get a bike box, do my dirty laundry, write postcards, cash my traveller's cheque, etc.), I don't really feel like leaving the bed that bears the weight of my body and the wall that my back and the back of head is leaning against.

Tour Report: Corroboree

The penultimate day of the end of the cycling part, the last day till arriving in Darwin. They left this morning without saying hi or goodbye, when I rolled my bike over to the toilet they were already gone.

Had a puncture again today, this time it was the rear wheel. It happened at around 12 o'clock just like the last flat, but this time it only took my 45 minutes to fix it. Didn't really feel bad or frustrated, guess if I was the I couple of years ago I would probably just freak out. After I got the problem solved and 5 minutes on the bike, a car with a caravan pulled over and, lo, they were the old couple (the Great Normads, as they call them here in Australia) that I met in the campsite in Jabiru (in Kakadu National Park)! What a pleasant surprise! They refilled my already emptied water bottles and handed me a life saving can of coke.

After about an hour and a half I got to Bark Hut, the supposed destination for the night, but it was only around 3 o'clock in the afternoon and Corroboree was just 27k away so I decided to keep going, and I felt quite fit anyway, besides with 27k less tomorrow to Darwin would be an supposed easy one, only 89k.

On the last stretch a school of armoured vehicles past through me, lots of tanks, jeez, that was really unexpected. The sound of their fast approaches was like the sound made by the bees, at least extra super gigantic bees. At first I didn't expected them to be tanks, was just wondering what kind of wheels could make such a strange sound, but when the first one whipped past through me, I was totally shocked (not in the sense of being frightened by the sudden burst of sound or appearances of things like some asshole on the road would sneak up behind ya quitely and then without warning speed up and try to give you the fright), a tank! And then another one and another one and... Hurriedly I whipped out my Canon and between waving madly like a little child and holding the camera I finally got some great shots.

Back to the trip. I thought I would see them in Corroboree, but they weren't there (the next day when we met on the road, one of them asked me why I didn't show up in Bark Hut, she said "I thought we already had that discussed". No, sweetheart, we didn't, YOU TWO discussed in German and then RELAY the information to me and expect me to do the same. Sorry mate, I'm not your servant, but of course, you're always right and I'm always the one to blame, so I guess I should knee down and beg for your forgiveness, your mercifulness). The mere sight of them just piss me off, but curiously, now that they're not here, I kinda miss them. Is it because I'm used to having dinner with them or is it because I miss the people I met on the road, Rob the old guy from Coventry, the friendly chicks from UK who gave me the chocolates, John and Pat I met in Pootnoura rest area at the end of the day, Emily and Melissa in Jamestown, Kirs, Warren, Ari, Finn and Errol in Gawler, Paul and Beck in Mawson Lakes, doc Danny in Port Augusta, the owners in Radeka's in Coober Pedy, the Austrian bitch, fellow cyclists Matrin and Nadine I met in Kulgera, Dutch family met in Erldunda, the night beside the bonfire in Mt Ebenezer, German waitress in Curtin Springs, Mark in Aileron, the swiss father and son who were roller-blading and cycling, the nice girl behind the counter in Renner Springs, Sandra and Warren with whom we went on a little 4WD day trip packed with lateral movements, and the many people not mentioned here, or is it because it's almost the end of the ride and that I'm leaving the cold, hot, harsh, rugged, not pretentious, huge, loosely populated yet 53.5 long roadtrains inhibited outback?

Could be all of them. Don't want to go to Darwin, it's hard work cycling here, when under the big red sun and the tropical climate you just can't help sweating and when there's no wind you feel like you are ready to serve in 5 minutes (just remember to pluck the body hairs off, customers don't like the hairs), topped with the omnipresent mozzies, it's plain torture sometimes. But I really like it. It's simple life, but I'm just travelling, can't be travelling all the time. Think maybe I really should start commuting by bike when I get back. I like looking at the road and contemplating over the moving pictures drawn by the sun that resembles me on my fully loaded bike. I like looking up and staring at the starry sky, stars only visible from the southern hemisphere.

Why get upset or angry over trifle things?

But there're important issues in life that poeple should care and worry about.

Let it be, take it easy and all will be fine.

The troublesome organ won't allow me to.

In the pub there're lots of people laughing and drinking, the music is hammering at the wall behind me, the atmosphere is red hot in the cool night. I just hope that they can spare some mood.

Tour Report: Berserker Reprise

It happened again tonight when I was having dinner. The on-going wave of the sense of rush and the feeling that the whole body was like the string held tight and tied to a bow and being pulled by an arm with overwhelming power. Even though you're just holding gently the can of coca-cola or the fork or simply turning the head around, you feel like you were using all the strength accessible and untouchable to crush the tin can and bending the fork and the feeling that you were in extra fast motion while in fact you're ultra slow.

Tour Report: Travel or Dinner Mates

The distinction between the two is that you only see your dinner mates at the end of the day or for a couple of minutes on the road.

Having dinner mates doesn't mean that you're travelling with someone because they don't give a shit about you nor your feelings. Travelling together means watch out for each other and include every single soul in the group, no matter in terms of money or conversation. Travel mates don't pay for just themselves and tell you later that they haven't pay for you while they've already had showers, saying oh we're not sure if you'll come here (of course I'll come here, you fucking idiot, what the fuck you think I was doing behind ya?).

Looking after one another is particularly important in cycle touring because there're the unstable, unexpected elements in it, let it be physical or mechanical breakdown or road accidents, anything could happen. What if one was 10k behind and was dehydrated and that nobody was around to help? While his dinner mates are enjoying their cold drinks comfortably in the shade, damn, he is so slow!

It goes back to the "well-educated kind" issue once more. They piss you off with great frequency and still don't know what's wrong with you (it's always you and they're always the good, of course). The point is, they simply suck and don't worth your time. Some of them will learn and some just never will. And unfortunately, the never-wills are the majority inside the majority.

Tour Report: Table Manners And Politeness

Are not related.

From what I see, table manners are nothing more than mechanical reactions which were installed into your behavioural pattern, you just do it without further thinking, like a reflex, simple as the switch of a button, like a doctor would sit far, safely away from the attack range of your shoe before he strikes your knee with a club, in case you retaliate and kick his balls and send him pale on the floor dying with anguish.

There're the kind that talks and laughes so loud in the early morning, slaps on the table with all the force they could possibly muster without warning, immediately changes the facial expression and raises the voice to argue and tries to force you to change your mind whenever the opportunities present themselves, speaks the language you don't know the whole night while you're all sitting on the same table, like you simply don't exist and pretend that they're oh so sorry only when someone points out that someone is being neglected, while at the same time stresses that having burps and hiccups on the dining table are capital crimes and the sinner should be burnt on the stake (to make an emphasis on their point they would slap heavily on the table and yell, generously distributing salivas to everyone onborad).

This I don't think is what should be called well-educated, this is just full of shit. Sadly, that croak of shit is what people cares about. The new breed of youngster, those who have higher educations (university, not that high actually), think they know everything and all is under calculated control, so full of themselves and think that's how it should be, listen to no advices nor suggestions. See no evil in themselves.

I've seem cyclists threw away toilet paper (full of shit, literally) right there on the highway, they just let them gone with the wind, and wild is the wind. Jeez, I couldn't believe what my eyes just saw, how could anyone, especially cyclists who is supposed to be sensitive with environmental issues commit such an atrocity? Throw away used tissues by the side of the road! On the Stuart Highway one of the thing that makes me really upset is that it's basically filled with litters (for a fine example, check my photo page when I get back in mid September) and it was a great great great shock when I saw cyclist did this.

They're the "well-educated" kind and they're the majority, being cyclists or not, I see them everyday and the mere sight of them just make me pale with sickness (have nothing to do with the doctor) because it is just so revolting.

So, here's a little "How to spot an ignorant and full of carp fuck guide":

1. A lean-cut look and talks like he/she knows everything

2. A "you're nothing but shit" glance while they're just backpacking or suitcasing.

3. Low resistent level (highly efficient professional complainer), physically or psychologically.

4. Well sun-tanned.

5. Fake hippie.

6. Perfumed (optional).

That's, of course, just a little general guide line, the actual situation varies from person to person, you'll pick up the experiences and skills to recognize them along the way and when you're good enough, you'll know them just by looking at their sillouettes, and then, welcome to be one of us, the weird, unpopular lot.

Tour Report: Berserker

A tough day was today, my ass screamed so hard like there were niddles pressing against it whenever it engaged the saddle; my right leg had just no power at all and I can only rely on the left left to pedal.

I was going exceptionally slow, I had a bad feeling about having to flag down some vehicle to get to my destination and after 10k the legs and arms decided that it was time to go on strike (but still, I managed to finish the 111k ride). At around half way to Cooinda, a sudden sense of rush welled out of me and even though I was moving slow I felt that everything was going way to fast, like the typical alien view camera with the scary sound effects or that someone had put the video twice as fast as normal. I was pedalling at 14k/h, I deliberately solw down to 10k/h and yet the horrible sensation insisted to linger on.

Desperately, thinking that my head was going to explode due to the excessive heat I pulled over trying to relax, hoping that staying motionless would disperse that dreadful thing, the unbearable rush. But it didn't, the road and the landscapes were all moving at an incrediblely fast speed and the chilling cry loitered at my ear deafening me. I reached down for my water bottle and with the same slow movement drank out of it, but the senses told me the very opposite. I felt like I was going to plunge head first at breakneck speed over my handlebar and subsequently ran over by my bike and crushed my heaving chest. It was driving me mad.

Tour Report: The Beaten Track

My response to her remark that the most important thing is to have a good time was that it was more urgent to get a better idea of yourself, even if that makes one sad.

She wasn't really agree with that. How can she?

I'm a loyal subscriber to the idea that it's beneficial and necessary to travel along for a certain period of time, say a couple of months, from time to time. Because only when you're totally alone and away from the daily chores can you really touch the inner part because when you're with someone, you're, more or less, knowing or unknowingly, pretending. And with that, you're lost.

They had a lot of fun last night, they laughed a lot (to the degree of being scary) they had a GREAT TIME, but they simply don't realize that it doesn't mean anything. Nothing changes and no lesson is learnt, they just stay the same way they were some 26 years ago. It's the easy way, but well, afterall, who wants to be sad and sullen when all one sees is dark and bleak and the never-ending torture?

Nevertheless, I still stand my position because for me it's an even greater tragedy to stay uninformed. I somehow pity them when they were laughing so hard during the night in the campsite. The next day she told me that you would live 5 days longer everytime you laugh. And I really wonder does it mean anything that you live a hundred or hundreds of years if you don't realize the thing that truly matters, the point.

So is the thing that plagues me really a virus as I put it earlier? Hum... I could be wrong, perhaps instead of a virus it's a trial as I knew it all along, the thing is it's just so hard that I lost my faith sometimes and don't know what is it that it wants. No wonder nobody wants it.

Tour Report: Solution

I always wonder what's the possible solution to my plight, the demon called loneliness that plaques me. As simple as a trusty company or is it something more than just that? Well, finding someone will probably somewhat ease the wound, but I'm not fully convinced that it's the final solution for it only paralyzes the troublesome organ, like a panadol, but doesn't eradicate the virus. I've tried, over the years, to locate and get rid of the source, but like a programmed apparatus my attempts were sent hurtling back, trampled on the ground and it just grows ever larger everytime my troops were annihilated.

Its power is so overwhelming that now even before I can response to its advances I'm caught in its all powerful snare and inmobilized. The solution, as far as I can see, is non-existent.

Tour Report: Heavy Rain

Only 11 days left till the flight to Sydney. I should be making the most out of the time left and try to make it more enjoyable (not that I'm having physical problems), but it's just so hard.

It must be fate that I'm destined to suffer whenever I fall for someone, The burden that I'm hauling behind me is just so great that I simply have no reign over my emotions.

I realized that I'm doomed to stay the rest of my life alone because nobody appreciates what the see after they get to know me a little bit better, the real side of me. It simply scare them off, no more laughs, no more sunshine (like if there were before), only the chilling wind that blows through the spin and sends the whole body trembling.

So I go away from the flame setters and crawl into my private quarter, tugged away snugly, far from my tormentors. I play dead.