I had the absolute pleasure of having dinner with another long distance cycling couple. P and S contacted me via another cycling site as they were coming through our old home town, Roma, on an epic trip from Brisbane to Adelaide via Birdsville. Unfortunately we left Roma before they arrived, but I continued to follow their journey and we were able to make contact while they were briefly in Adelaide before flying home. It was fantastic to share cycling stories, especially as their trip took them through some remote and wild territory. If you would like more detail you can read about it in their journal here.
Apart from all the talking about cycling, it was a slow couple of days on the actual cycling front, due mainly to the need to be available for the child in hospital some 800km away and including an all-night video link to provide encouragement and moral support during a difficult process. I'm glad to say we all retained our sanity, everyone is in as good health and can be expected, and all that was needed was a bike ride to blow away the cobwebs and set the world to rights again. In order to achieve that I spent the morning in the Adelaide Hills, enjoying the benefits of the Green Valley strawberry farm where the strawberries journeyed directly from the paddock behind us to our plates, via a little processing in the packing shed and cafe kitchen. The sun shone, the grass was brilliantly green, and the dam below the cafe was full of water. A fire fighting helicopter caused brief concern as it clattered overhead, but a quick check reassured everyone that the only fires about were controlled burns, and the consensus was that the helicopter was merely practicing for the coming summer.
So far I've resisted the temptation to post food photos, but here we are...
Stuffed comfortably full of pancakes and strawberries, we headed back down the hill to Marino, where Roger dropped me and my bicycle before he went home.
Marino is at the southern end of Adelaide where the Hills, on their south easterly trajectory, meet the sea. South of Marino are lumpy things like headlands. North of Marino are the shared pathways of the Adelaide foreshore: flat and wide with the sea to the west and a breeze that varies in strength but is almost always from the south. Sculptures invite viewing along the way and at comfortable intervals ice cream shops urge indulgence. Cycling north along the foreshore is a very nice way to spend an afternoon.
South toward Marino rocks. Over the other side of theheadland is the beginning of the Coast to Vines Rail Trail which, as the name may suggest, travels from the coast up through the vineyards to Willunga.
I stopped at every jetty and walked out to the end. Lots of people were out to enjoy a warm Friday night and the chance for their first swim of the summer. Families clustered around fish and chips, fighting off clouds of seagulls. Groups of youths performed intricate courting rituals which varied from splashing and screaming (younger) through posturing and shows of bravado such as jumping off the end of the jetty (slightly older) to actual conversation and sidling closer and closer on the sand.
Brighton Jetty. This was the fisherman's jetty, everyone madly casting in lines and no one catching anything. Children hung precariously off the end, looking for a seal. By the smirk on their father's face I suspect there may not have been a seal, but the possibility of one gave him precious child free moments in which to fish, and the risk of someone falling into the not-so-deep blue sea was obviously worth it.
Glenelg Jetty: the jetty of walkers. Everyone was very businesslike, getting their constitutional in. All the action was on the foreshore: the ferris wheel, a wedding, and of course the ice cream!
...a lock!! I found this quite exciting, although nothing was happening at the lock when I went through. I was especially happy that I could walk/ride across the top of the lock while all the cars had to take a big detour somewhere else.
The excitement continued as I crossed the mouth of the River Torrens, the watercourse on which Adelaide is built. You'll notice it's always referred to as the 'River' Torrens. This is because unless reminded you are at risk of not realising it is a river and instead thinking of it as a creek, a gully, or a trickle of water. This would be a grave mistake to make and may seriously affect your chances of ever being accepted as an Adelaidian.
The sea nibbles constantly at the beaches. Many people are gainfully employed dredging sand from one place and putting it in another place, thereby providing frustration for those who wish to loll on the beach in the sun and enormous satisfaction for those who wish to play sandcastles, hide 'n' seek, or chasey.
I was back in familiar territory as I cycled back through Semaphore toward Port Adelaide. Coming over the bridge I found a different perspective on the lighthouse and steam tug at Port Adelaide.
