Pedalling your way down in Patagonia.

Light in your head and dead on your bike.

Another crazy wind day. The tent will shake the night away. And dust over everything.

These strong winds make you feel so cold. So far to the next town that will have no soul.

Its taken you so long, to find out you were wrong, when you thought about everything.

Use to think that it was so easy. Use to say that it was so easy.

You're tryin. You're tryin, now.

One more day and you will be there. Just one more day and you'll be there.

You're cryin. You're cryin, now.

------------SAX RIFF (full of emotional sympathy)----------

Way down road is a Czech couple on their bikes. They open their mouth, they've got that look on their face.

They ask you where you've been. You tell them what you've seen, and you talk about anything.

They got this dream about ridin South America land.

They goin to give up their home and be a bode in a tent.

Then they'll settle down in a quiet little town, and forget about everything.

But you know they're always goin to keep ridin. No they're never goin to stop movin.

They're rollin. He's a rolling stone.

When you wake up its a new marnin. Wind is blowin its anew marnin.

You're goin, you're goin, west (headwind).

---------SAX RIFF (with crying emotional tone in sympathy with me)---------

AND NOW THE REAL THING-LIVE :)

KY: The late Gerry Rafferty. And before that you heard a reworking of the lyrics by my guest this morning to suit his story about travelling by bicycle in Patagonia.

SK: Yes. Baker Street was a song I would sing to myself over and over daily while cycling to forego the monotomy.

KY: Monotomy?

SK: Yeah. I'd really enjoyed the ride south until reaching Terra del Fuego, where the ride got all of a sudden very tough. A combination of strong wind and hunger. Its a long way between towns down there and I felt nausea in my stomach eating nothing but rice and biscuits. Then, riding north on route 3, which was incredibly bleak with near enough constant chill wind. In the end it started to get to me.

KY: Lets talk about that. In your journal, you wrote you just didn't want to get out of the tent one morning, and wondered how long you could remain there comfortable until hunger drove you out. And you thought how great it would be to see grass and trees again.

SK: Yes, indeed. One morning in a village, there was an irrigated lawn, only a few metres square with two trees out in front of a shop where I stopped and bough buns. And it was such a pleasure to sit outside ating buns with my eyes fixed on the grass.

KY: In the song, your reworked version, there's a reference to meeting other cyclists. That must have been a moral boost.

SK: Indeed. I first met German cyclist, Julia. Then late the same day, Czech couple, Katrina and Peter. It was comforting to know there were others like me on the same road. Though, that day, route 3 passed through scenic Patagonia. The road followed close to the coast for most of the day and the weather was fine. Two days after, things took a real nosedive when I turn onto route 43, which I can only describe as the most monotomous road I've ever been on. There is almost constant table flat scrubland to the horizon on all sides, with a gradual steady climb all the way west and relentless headwind.

KY: It appears not an ideal cycle-touring location. I want to talk about your journal account of the route. Do you feel its hard to put into words what you experience?

SK: Absolutely. Its very hard. I'm not a good writer. A while ago I had been failing to write up notes in the evening, but lately I've got back to making the effort, jotting down what has happen in the coarse of the day. My aim now when writing it online is to engage the reader, but I think I often fail.

KY: In what way?

SK: Well, when something happens where I'm in great danger, I cannot write a believeable account of it afterwards.

KY: I think I read you came face to face with a bear in Bosnia.

SK: Yes, it was fifty metres away from my tent, perhaps harmless, but how was I to know. In any case I have a great story to tell.

KY: A lot of touring cyclists these days plug earphones into their ears and listen to music when the scenery isn't all that interesting, but, I understand you don't have an MP3 player.

SK: I do, but I've lost the connection to recharge it (laugh)

KY: Well, with that its time to introduce your sixth track, which is another Gerry Rafferty song.

SK: I only knew the song Baker Street from hearing it on the radio as a teenager. Then recently I did an internet search to find out more about the man behind the song and music. In so doing found a wealth of other great Gerry Rafferty songs, such as Night Owl, the track we are about to hear performed in the studio where he was most happy working; not liking public performances and the razz-matass that goes with it.

Sorry I couldn't load part two, but it's easily googled.