Roman Holiday

Relatively speaking, it was smooth sailing (or flying!) to Rome, although it was a close call in connecting with our Singapore to Rome flight. We had to run from our gate and held the plane up as we and our luggage were transferred. Rome Fiumincino airport was a bit of a loose arrangement. We were waived throughout Customs with a 'Go, Go!'. No stamp, no scan, niente!!! Leaving the airport with not a single security check seemed a little odd but nonetheless we made our way to the train station and caught our first regional train to Roma Trastevere. I had forgotten to print directions to our B&B (more like an apartment), so used directions that I had printed to lead us to 'Siciliana Connoleria' ( a store selling yummy sweet ricotta-filled Cannoli). After a short walk from the train station, we arrived at Suites Trastevere, rang the doorbell and Marco let us in indicating 'level 3'. Dragging our luggage up the marble staircase was tougher than expected so we crammed into the wrought iron cage lift with manually operated doors. We ate a second breakfast of pastries and Marco's nonna's chocolate cake and then mapped our Roman walking journey for the day. The start of our exploratory walk was at the Porta Portese flea market which sprawled for blocks and blocks. The roads are closed to allow for the market. In essence, it is stale and stalls selling mostly 'made in China' rubbish but the people seemed robe flocking. If I lived here, I would be buying the antique and mid century furniture. There was plenty on display! As we walked up Viale Trastevere, we admired the old apartment buildings with shutter-framed windows and terracotta pots filled with geraniums hanging from the window ledge. The buildings were showing signs of age but this only added character. The smell of coffee as you walk by is enough to lure you in every time. Little old Italian men sit outside with their espresso to shoot the breeze and 'passa tempo' (pass time). I found it funny that Marco advised us to catch a tram rather than walk, indicating that Romans would not be walking to the city centre. However, before we knew it, we were crossing Ponte Garibaldi (Graibaldi Bridge) to the Jewish Quarter. If you stuck to the main street (Via Arenula), you would have missed the experience. But with a right turn into Via Santa Maria di Planto, we were 'wowed' by the narrow cobblestone street, cafes and people socialising. We stopped for a quick lunch and watched as fathers tried to cope with the whinging toddlers, couples fought and others gesticulated with their hands. After 16 years since blast visit, nothing seems familiar to me. Did I visit the piazzas last time? Campo de Fiori is a lively piazza surrounded by cafes and then filled with a buzzing market in the centre. This was my favorite gathering place. The stalls were mostly produce and food including pasta of a million varieties, formaggio, cold meats (the biggest mortadella we've ever seen - about 3 ft long and 30 cm wide) and the fruit stalls selling cups of juicy cut mixed fruit. Piazza Navona - a lovely piazza with a fountain at it's centre. Art fills it's core and I have to admit that I was tempted by an oil painting of Rome. I'll think about it today. The lane ways surrounding the piazza are truly incredible. Black uneven cobblestones, apartments looming over with either laundry hanging across from an apartment building on one side to an apartment building on the other side. Bright pink bouganvillia sprawls it's way across walls and gives every building a facelift. I love it! Coming back to Rome has been a good thing for me. I don't recall being amazed by the grandeur and age of buildings during my last visit. The Pantheon is truly an incredible building both inside and out. The 9 m wide hole in the cupola allows sun and the other elements to enter the space within. The volume on the pitied of the building are so mammoth. You always 'up' in Rome as so much of the detail is staring at you from above. I am most impressed by the details at the top of the columns. I think these may be called italics. With every turn of a corner, we are in awe and delight - the Fontana di Trevi, the spanish steps with all and sundry sitting, reading, talking and just taking it all in. Our legs were aching but with each step, we came closer to something that could not be missed. And we could not have picked a better way to end our day than with an impromptu stumble upon St Peters Basilica. It wasn't on our list for the day but we were pulled towards it. It was 6.30 pm and so serene and peaceful. We were blessed to experience this scared place with minimal people and quietness. My camera battery was flat so I had no choice but to breathe it in and wonder how this came to creation. The marble statues with the finest detail down to the veins in the hands, the frescoes, the ornate ceilings with gold leaf sculptured flowers, the enormous cupolas. Walking back to Trastevere was tiring but satisfying. What a day! The only drawback so far is the food. Our restaurant recommendation in Trastevere called 'Ivo' was a let down - undercooked gnocchi, sour Ragusa and wine that barely passed as wine. It makes me realize how I am truly spoilt with quality Italian food at home. Today we plan to visit a deli and select a variety of charcuterie for our lunch. Surely we can't go wrong with that. Time to step back in time .... Ciao for now xo

From House Boats to Cliff Tops

We left Fort Cochin along a gravel bumpy road and set for another coastal ride The children were so welcoming as we cycled along the narrow dirt paths. Many were on their way to school and were so excited to greet us. Even the adults give us a 'welcome'. As we cycle south along the coast we pass fishing village after fishing village. Men sit there under shady canopies freeing their fishing nets from tangles. Their nets are super fine and it looks as though it would take an entire day to de-tangle. During one of our drink stops in a buzzing little town, we notice a guy on a motor bike with a giant camera lens pointing in our direction. It turns out that he is a journalist from a local newspaper and is keen to write a story about our trip. Many Keralans cannot understand why we are travelling by bike and the assumption is that we cannot afford to travel by any other means.
As we cycle toward Alleppey, the star5ting point for our backwater boat trip, we are surrounded by canals and waterways. The last 100m of our 60+ km cycle is off road. We carry our bikes down some steps and then straddle the canal. It is simply unreal! We arrive at our final destination with a welcoming fresh grape drink. Our home for the night is a gorgeous thatched hut surrounded by palms and other topical plants along the waterway.
Terence and I decide to take a tuk tuk into the main town of Alleppey. There are few tourists to be seen as this is where the locals shop. We find a couple of cotton shirts for Terence but in typical Indian fashion, one turns out to be polyester ...just what you need when its above 30 degrees Celsius and over 80 % humidity.
We leave Alleppey the next day after stocking up on alcohol for the night. Buying alcohol is quite an experience. The doors to the liquor store opened at 10am but men were waiting in line from at least 9.30am. When we arrived, they ushered us in through another door ...special treatment for foreigners. Beer and spirits of various sizes were stacked on wooden shelves in a cramped space. I grabbed a vanilla vodka for something new and off we went to meet our houseboat. They turned up right in front of our waterfront accommodation. Bikes and all were thrown on the more than comfortable converted rice barges. We spent the next 18 hours cruising the waterways which was nothing but tranquil and relaxing. Locals living by the waterside were observed doing their laundry. Women slap their laundry against the rocks ...not sure how clean the clothes get. It really makes me appreciate my washing machine and even the scrubbing brush which I have been using for hand washing.

The next morning, our bikes are taken off the boats and we set off for our longest and final cycle ride - 104 km in total. Although the sun is beating down and I have signs of prickly heat on my legs, it is well worth it as we hug the coastline. The water is looking bluer and the scene is so idyllic with tropical palm trees, fisherman, fishing nets, canoes and warm, welcoming children. Our lunch stop is out of this world and so off the beaten track. It is at a palm-tree lined beach called Thangassery, located near the city of Kollam (or Quillon). The sand is whiter than what we have seen so far and there are break walls every few hundred metres. The red and white light house in the distance may be the same one that was featured in Terence's latest surf magazine, 'Surfing Life'. Terence is the only one in the group who braves the water and goes for a body bash. Yes, there is surf. In fact, they are perfect surfing waves for me. Lunch is a treat too with mussels, prawns and calamari cooked as dry curries with chapati, pineapple yogurt curries, Porrama (a popular Keralan bread) and more. We certainly haven't gone hungry on this trip.
After enduring extremely hot and humid conditions and negotiating sections of highway (where there is always so much going on), we arrive at Varkala, a small hippie community with an amazing cliff top overlooking Varkala Beach, a great surf beach with a strong rip (not suitable for the beginner swimmer).
Yesterday morning, Terence was approached by a local guy as he checked out the surf. The guy happened to have a surfboard which Terence rented from him for 2 hours. His surf was cut short after snapping the nose of the board. The local guy was not happy, despite the fact that the board had previously been snapped in this spot (as the repair work was evident). After lots of arguing and disappointment, the surf cost Terence about $50 as the guy wanted him to pay for the damage. Despite the disappointing end to the morning, the day ended perfectly with an incredible sunset - a huge red ball setting at the horizon with the breaking waves in the foreground. We were comfortably positioned with our coffees at Cafe Del Mar and couldn't have been more chilled.
Yoga - a journey of finding out 'who you are' - is how may morning started. Four of us sat in a cool room in the upstairs of a building with a breeze coming through. All I could hear was the waves breaking and I could not have picked a more beautiful way to bid farewell to Kerala and India. I now understand why people come here seeing spiritual enlightenment. For me, it was just a taste but I certainly feel calm and light.

Coconuts and chilling out in Cochin, Kerala, INDIA

So much has happened since the last blog post. We left Ooty on Friday morning all kitted out in warmer layers. It was a fresh start as we cycled amongst pine trees, wattle and eucalypts (big, big eucalypts). Every now and then, the smell of eucalyptus oil would waft by. As we cycled mostly down hill, we were graced by the tea covered slopes of the Western Ghats (hills). Women walked along their roads in their colourful saris with woven baskets on their heads. The baskets were for carrying freshly picked tea. The tea is planted in a similar style to a patchwork quilt. Taller trees are interspersed amongst them to offer shade and the perfect growing conditions. As we get to the bottom of the 24 km descent, the layers of clothing are stripped off and the temperature soars. Welcome to tropical Kerala. Blankets of green, lush palm trees surround us. We stop for lunch and receive our first taste of Keralan food. Everything is cooked in coconut oil - tasty but not great for those who are watching their waist line.
After lunch, we say goodbye to our bikes,. For the first time during this trip, we have a bus tranfer to our destination of Guruvayoor. At first I think 'it would have been good to cycle'. However, after experiencing the crazy, mayhem traffic from the comfy seat of the van, I am glad that I'm not amongst it. Our driver is playing car dodge ball and has so many near misses, it's incredible!

Guruvayoor is a non-tourist town known for its temple. Keralans come to this temple on a pilgrimage and many sleep overnight. As we made our way past the shop-lined boulevard towards the temple, we passed many people sprawled on the pavement. Some of them slept on nothing more than a few sheets of newspaper. Vish (our guide) tells us that some of them can afford to stay in a hotel but choose to sleep on the pavement as a sign of devotion.
The highlights of Guruvayoor were the 2 short rides (one in the morning and one at night). Joseph, our ride leader, led us down narrow lane ways and pot-holed roads. I kept thinking to myself 'how do they discover these routes when they look as though they wouldn't even be on a map'. Our morning ride led us to the beach to see the fishing boats. As we cycled there, we passed many fish mongers riding or scootering along the little back streets and calling out to inform the neighbourhood that they had arrived to sell fish. The beach was great and gross. The fishing boats looked truly idyllic but we had to watch where we placed our feet to avoid stepping on human faeces. Disgusting, I know!! But hey, this is India! Our evening ride was at sunset and led us to the most beautiful bright yellow Orthodox Christian Church. The Church is devoted to St Dominic (Doubting Dominic). If I recall correctly, Dominic questioned that Jesus rose from the dead (hence the 'doubting').

We left Guruvayoor this morning and experienced the most fascinating day. Although the sun and humidity was relentless, it was well worth it. Almost the entire 86 km cycling journey was along quiet village back roads. Sometimes it feels like we are cycling through people's private daily lives. However, we are met with welcoming greetings - 'hello', 'good morning' and 'welcome'. After about 25 km, we hit the coast. Thick forests of palm trees surrounded us from here on. We were graced with the cliche banding palm tree over the sand. Terence climbed 3/4 of the way along one of them like a little monkey. This area is certainly wealthier as the saris are brighter, more beautiful and the homes are painted in vivid colours (lime greens, tangerine orange and sky blue). So many of the homes look like palaces but the smaller shanty-looking homes still seemed to be scattered in between.
Our first ferry crossing was before lunch, where we crossed the river on a barge-looking boat to Vypen Island. The sea stayed to our right and the shade and slight breeze took the edge off. However, every time we stopped the sweltering heat could be felt. For the first time in my life, I developed a heat rash above my knees. Thankfully, lunch offered us some respite. We stopped t the Baywatch Cafe (yes, Baywatch!) which overlooked Cherai Beach. The water wasn't the blue that we are used to in Oz but it was the bluest we have seen so far. We we went for a dip, however, I wasn't daring enough to submerge my head and risk picking up an infection. Terence went for a bit of a body bash though and seems to be fighting fit!
The last 30 km after lunch was lots of fun. We first skidded though sandy paths along the beach side. Many in the group fell off as they didn't gain enough momentum as they pushed through the sand. After about 10km, we took a left hand turn away from the beach and cycled through villages with the most diving estuary lined with tropical palm trees on both sides. Simply stunning!
One more ferry journey and we arrive in Cochin! We were packed on the ferry like sardines and there was hardly space to move as the bikes, people, motorbikes, cars and trucks all assumed their positions. I wondered whether we would cross the river safely but alas, we are here!
Wow, the vibe in Cochin is so chilled and this place is definitely set of for tourists. It is the first time that we have seen shops that cater to the Western palate ... clothing, jewellery, antiques and collectibles, linen, quilt covers. We had a quick look-see before dinner and already Terence has succumbed and bought an antique wooden spice bowl. Shopping is on the agenda for tomorrow and I have no doubt that it will be deadly on the credit card. Farewell to my bike for now as my feet prepare to pound the pavements.

Snooty Ooty, India

It is day 6 of our Southern Indian cycling holiday and it has not disappointed us one little bit. This is the first time I have had access to internet facilities, so I will try and summarise the blur of sensory overload which we have experienced in the past 6 days.
We arrived at Bangalore airport at 10pm. I was already exhausted from the flights and knew that we had another 5 hour wait before our cycling group arrived from the UK. We had sussed out some sleeper chairs in the airport and were going to take a few cat naps during the long wait. In the meantime, we had to withdraw money from the ATM and were having troubles with the one ATM in the arrivals hall. So I was advised to use one of the four ATMs outside. So off we shuffle to the ATM and manage to withdraw some money. Phew, our financials were sorted and now it was just a matter of resting. Well, not so!! They would not let us back inside the arrivals hall so we spent the next 5 hours waiting for the group outside the airport. 'Welcome to India!'
At 4am, we were transferred from Bangalore airport to Mysore - a 3 1/2 hour transfer. My eyes were popping out of my head by the time we had arrived.
Mysore seems like so long ago but was a fun, crazy introduction to a big Indian town of over a million people. Our first cycling day started and ended cycling through the hectic, non law-abiding traffic. There is so much craziness going on that you just have to brave it and force your way through the mayhem of tuk tuk drivers, street food stalls, motorbikes, animal carts, goats being herded and all the rest. It was so much fun but there is no way that an Australian tour company would expose its customers to such hectic traffic conditions. All the more reason to love India :)
The cycling so far has been entirely door-to-door and it has truly been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. There is no way that you would be exposed to the remote back roads that we have had the experience of cycling along. Each village has its own character and there is so much going on from clothes washing in the rivers and streams; the drying of sheets laid flat on patches of grass; thin but strong men steering their ox to pull carts laden with sand or bamboo or stones ; groups of women dressed in their colourful saris; men gathered to talk shop.
The colours of India are just so vibrant. I have never seen such colour rich markets especially the sections which sell dyes. The dyes are the brightest of bright colours - purples, yellows, greens, reds. They display them in bowls and then shape the powdered dyes in a conical shape. Simply stunning.
There has been a festival in this region throughout the past week and so we have been lucky enough to see colourful processions; cars/tucks/tuk tuks/bikes adorned with banana tree leaves and long garlands of marigold and other festivities.
Yesterday was my birthday and I was blessed and frightened by a morning sighting of a wild lone male tusker in Bandipur National Park. We cycled off from our accommodation into the National Park for 30+ kilometres. We happened to be cycling uphill and around a bend when we saw the elephant. He wasn't happy as he raised his trunk and trumpeted. I was scared beyond belief and the thought of being charged by an elephant on my birthday kept flashing through my mind. My legs pedalled so fast that they must have looked like a blur. My birthday ended with a visit to a local orphanage run by a Swiss woman. Over 70 children live there and they are schooled until about 16 and then encouraged to enter university or pursue a trade. The kids were so warm and inquisitive and asked us to sing a song. Isabel, one of the English women in our group, suggested that everyone sing me 'happy birthday'. It was lovely and very unique. The Indian version goes on for ages in true Indian style :)
We are now in Ooty and certainly worked hard to be awarded a lovely hotel for the night. We had a 13.5 km extremely tough uphill climb with 36 hairpin bends (and about another 100 other bends). The climb was steep (about 70 degree incline for most of the way). Terence and I couldn't believe the unrelenting hill climb. I kept saying, 'we're not climbing up there, are we!'. Myself, Duncan and Terence made it to the top first and were so relieved. I have never endured such a tough cycling challenge in my life and I can't believe that we completed it. But we did! And now it seems like ages ago as we are now surrounded by the creature comforts of the hotel in Ooty which overlooks the bustling town below. Ooty is in the hills and is a lot cooler than the temperature in Mysore. It is a welcome relief and also a contrast in scenery - pine trees intermingled with eucalypts and whiffs of fresh eucalyptus oil graces us every now and then. Terence and spent the afternoon scouring the stores for the odd antique collectible. We walked to Mohans (a store that had been advertising its wares on billboards for the last 2 days). We finally got there and its doors were closed. So we had to settle for shopping on Commercial Street. Th best part was stumbling upon the local market where everythign and anything could be bought. Butchers chopping off goats heads; fish being scaled; vegetables such as aubergine, broccoli, beans presented so beautifully; flower seller displaying their long garlands of marigolds in circular piles. I love it! Oncw upon our time, we would have bought veges in this manner and perhaps it will come back with the rising popularity of produce and slow food markets. India is slow food at its best!
Curry is awaiting me .....

A request for a blog update ....

I was going to neglect my blog for the remainder of this trip, but received a gentle reminder to update it. So here I am at an Internet cafe in Cape Town. It is a relief to be out of the scorching sun. The weather has really warmed up over the last few days. I even have a reject sunnies tan to prove it.

It's strange how all the days seem to blur into one when you are travelling. I am sitting here with my trip notes as trying to recap what I did and where I visited may be a challenge. Finally the weather swung in our favour as we left Hermanus and cycled along the whale coast to Gordon's Bay. It felt so good to feel the sun warming me up and to smell the salt in the air. We cycled by many great beaches, empty beaches. I think the sharks and cold (I mean cold!) waters keep people out of the water. I did see one guy putting on his wettie to brave the cold waters. The scenery was absolutely spectacular with rugged, granite mountains soaring up to the sky on our right and the Atlantic Ocean below us on our left. I felt so free to be on a bike and stopping at every bend to take a photo of the next breathtaking scene ahead of me. The water is such a clear turquoise colour and I can only guess that this is because of the white, white sand. This truly spectacular ride was only a taster of what was to come. The only disappointment was the ending to the day. Our guide gave us the impression that we'd be stopping in Gordon's Bay with an opportunity for a gelato. The temptation of yummy ice-cream kept my peddling hard and fast. However, the tosser kept cycling, missing the left hand turn to Gordon's Bay and stopping at the BP service station on the outskirts of the waterfront. When I asked him about the ice-cream, he pointed at the servo shop. Not impressed!

Our home for the next couple of nights was Simon's Town, or should I say, the outskirts of Simon's Town. This tour has stationed my on the outskirts of the attractions. Simon's Town is a base for visits to Cape Point. This nature reserve is known for its abundance of flora. I was absolutely blown away by the ostriches and springbok on the beach. It was such a foreign sight for me and I couldn't get over it.

The best day was saved for last. We cycled from Simon's Town to Cape Town, door to door. The coastline along the Atlantic Coast is so wild and the perfect blend of mountains and water. We were blessed with blue skies, crystal clear water and mountains looming over us.The dingle lane road with a narrow shoulder to cycle on was worth the risk of being hooted at by impatient drivers. You couldn't pick a better mode of transport to get from Chapman's Peak to Hout Bay. Cycling enabled me to stop against to rocky barricade and appreciate the beauty and snap away to my heart's content. You'd never be able to stop on the narrow, winding road if you were in a car.

We said our goodbye to the rugged coast and made our way along the ritzy beach side suburbs of Cape Town eg Camps Bay, where supposedly the who is who of CT hang out.

Time to log off and do some walking. My legs are in absolute agony after walking down Table Mountain yesterday. I must look like a cripple as I walk the streets, especially when I walk down stairs.

Spent last night hanging out with some locals for sun downers and dinner. It felt so good to be with younger people, especially after my trip with way older people from the UK.

Time to pound the pavement of Cape Town and see what I stumble upon .....

Tales from the Western Cape ...

Gee, I feel so far removed from civilisation. Little did I realise that Internet cafes are a rare entity in South Africa.

We left Cape Town on our bikes 6 days ago riding through the port with Table Mountain to our right and the big shipping port to our left. It kinda felt like riding through the steelworks of Wollongong. As we cycled out of the city, the uniform housing developments started to appear. I couldn't get my head around the fact that so many people live in a 'Truman Show' world - whereby life is protected within the estate and its security reinforced walls and electric fences. However, in some cases, it is only a matter of metres before you stumbled upon a township where power is scarce, conditions are abominable. I wonder what it must feel for the two groups to stare over an other's habitats - rich looking over poor; disadvantaged lives looking towards comfortable lives?

Cycling along the coast was lovely and mostly along cycle path. The Atlantic ocean looked tempting but the sheer fact that surfers were in full steamers kept me at bay. Most of the homes seemed built on the sand and the km of sand dunes were a reminder of my childhood. The days of sliding down sand hills on cardboard were so much fun but it is rare to find a sand dune on the Eastern Coast of Oz.

From coast to wine lands was a dramatic change in one day. The Stellenbosch and Franschoek wine region is absolutely spectacular. The area is picture perfect and resembled Germany or the Alps with green, lush valleys surrounded by mountains covered in pine trees. The farm homes are just adorable. The Dutch originally settled in this area and so the farmhouses are very Dutch in style - white rendered cottages with dark thatched roofs. Life looks absolutely idyllic here although I am sure that there is a lot of work that comes with tending to the vines.

We sampled several wines, both red and white and I have tried to improve my ability to describe the wines. I always wonder how people describe wines eg a hint of berry on the nose; or a strong honey scent on the nose. The classic description was when the girl at one of the wineries described the wine as 'pencil shavings on the nose'. So whenever we set down for dinner, Jon, Wendy and I swirl our glasses and try and describe the 'on the nose' effect of the wine.

We left the wine regions for drier more stark scenery of the Little Karoo which is semi-arid desert. We passed kilometres of apricot farms which were in full bloom. If it weren't for the electric fences, I would have dared to pick a few. The road was rather gravelly and my lower back was killing by the end of the 65km cycle. I did see a tortoise along the way which was a highlight. He was trying to cross the road but considering the fact that it was a major road, I wouldn't be surprised if it is still waiting. Mr Tortoise was so cute because he would close his eyes every time a car passed. We spent night #4 in Barrydale, a quiet country town with well-kept homes with beautiful gardens. The Jacaranda trees are in full bloom and are everywhere. I have never seen such gorgeous rose gardens like I have in SA.

Leaving Barrydale behind for a steady cycle climb up Tradouws Pass. The scenery was spectacular with the Langeberge Mountains surrounding us. It reminded my of Zion National Park in Utah with spectacular rock formations and the rocks seemed to be slithers of sandstone and granite and would jut out from all directions. Our end point was Swellendam where once again we stayed on the outskirts of the town. Our home for the night was connected cabins overlooking a grain silo - nice (NOT!). However, it was a good base to explore Bontebok National Park. It is a small park but we got to see Bontebok, Springbok, Red Hartebees and of course, more tortoises.

Day 6 (26th November 2010) - This was our first day of not-so-great weather as we cycled along wheat fields and gently rolling hills. We visited the southern most point of Africa, Cape Agulhus. It was blowing a gale and was a reminder just how open and exposed the area is.

Day 7 (27th November 2010) was a wet start to the day. I looked out onto the street from our gorgeous guest house room in Bredarsdorp. The roads were wet and the rain showed no signs of stopping. Joy! We left Bredarsdorp with wet weather gear from head to toe. I don't know if it made a difference as I was saturated by the end of the 20km intro cycle to the day. My feet were squidgy in my shoes and the smell of must emanating from my feet was enough to make me pass out. I have since shampooed my shoes and blow dried them. See, I knew hair dryers were versatile. The day eventually cleared and we got to see Hermanus, the whale watching coast, in its full glory or turquoise blue water and blue sky. The whales are hiding though as I have not sighted any yet.

Today, I am chilling out in Hermanus. The weather is overcast but I am glad it's not raining. We started the day with an obligatory coffee stop. The coffee here in Sth Afica has been good. Illy coffee is everywhere, so I am not craving the coffees from home like I usually do when I am away. I am meeting Jon and Wendy, my pommie buddies. Jon is half my height and lives in Brussels (but is English) and Wendy lives in the North of England. The plan for the rest of the day is lunching in Hermanus followed by the coastal walk back to our lodge. We are taking advantage of the rest day as we have 90km of cycling upon us tomorrow .....

Cape Town Saturday 20th November 2010

After what was a most uncomfortable and long flight, I made it to this gorgeous place, Cape Town. It kind of reminds me of Balmain with the beautiful terrace homes and their wrought iron trimmings. It is still early morning and the streets are quiet. I have roamed the streets since after 7am as I was in search of a SIM card. In typical Melissa fashion, it doesn't seem to be working (yet).

My driver, Sufesa, picked me up from Cape Town airport. All ran smoothly upon arrival to Capetown and I was surprised with how orderly life is here. I should rephrase that as the orderliness exists in the main centre. Immediately upon leaving the airport, I was utterly shocked by the sprawl of corrugated sheds, not fit for choocks (in my mind). And then I realised that this was a Township. What a contrast between the beautiful rendered ornate homes (bordered with high fences and bars) and the corrugated, graffitied shacks. The only thing that made me realise that people live there was the sight of children playing soccer.

I am about to meet the sister of my friend, Laurian. She is a local Capetonian and is taking me to a market at a gentrified old biscuit mill.

I still haven't met my cycle tour group yet but thin they will be arriving after lunch.