Arse About Face

Merry xmas to me...

2011-12-23T17:05:00.002+08:00

As is traditional, instead of waiting for someone else to buy me an entirely inexplicably festive pair of socks, I got myself something much, much better for xmas. It's also entirely non-sock based:


Gosling One. She's back, and her goose has not been cooked for xmas

After a good few years of being stashed away in a friend's shed gathering dust and spiders, Gosling One has finally been released into the warm, welcoming air of Western Australia. I like to think she was happy to see me, despite my abandoning her here to return to the UK on the completion of my original, round Oz epic. She might be plotting her revenge, but it'll have to wait until she's officially back on the road.

The only obstacle between more motorcycle shenanigans remains getting her a new "rego" from the W.A highways people. What could possibly go wrong, it's the festive season after all. With the battery charged and a bit of fresh fuel in the tank, Gosling One did not even remotely give a damn about her period of inactivity; firing up and thumping away without so much as a "where the bloody hell have you been?"

Next week for the "pit" inspection, so until then, goodwill to Goslings and all that.

Happy festive season y'all!

City lights, city bikes..

2011-12-10T19:21:00.001+08:00

This will be the penultimate entry with regard to this Sydney to Melbourne jaunt, as we've arrived in Melbourne and delivered the bikes as promised. Not a great deal to report other than cleaning up Broomhilda wasn't as much fun as I had thought it would be, there's a lot of places on a bike that size that dirt can hide.

We motored in to Melbourne from our overnight spot in Anglesea early this morning, held up briefly by a log jam of traffic crossing the bridge into the centre of the city. Doesn't seem to matter how bloody big the motorbike you're riding is, car drivers (for the most part) just choose not to see you. Mark had decided to opt for the factory fitted BMW satellite navigation system on his bike, so getting lost in the urban tangle was luckily only a minor possibility.

That's official BMW tape that is

We made it to our R.V point with little more than a few clenched fists to show for the ride through the thronging streets, so I thought it would be nice to treat Broomhilda to a little shopping:

She's a 1200 double C

Ludicrously early start tomorrow morning, so I'm off to bed. I'll post up some more images when I get back to W.A and have a chance to sift through the memory card at leisure, there might even be some interesting ones in there somewhere.

Stay tuned!

Wales...no wait, Victoria in Australia...

2011-12-09T19:15:00.001+08:00

As it turns out, and here's a tip for all you would be campers out there, a yellow tent and neglecting to zip up said domicile whilst camping on the Victorian coast; means the fly-sheet, becomes exactly that.

After clearing out those flies I could from the tent, and murdering with extreme prejudice those that failed to evacuate my bedroom within the allotted time, I finally managed to get some sleep. Which is exactly what was needed after the 560km from the previous day.

Today was a relatively short hop from the coastal town of Port Campbell at the western end of the Great Ocean Road, to Anglesea in Wales, erm I mean at the eastern end of the Great Ocean Road. Short in terms of distance, but long in terms of time thanks to the ludicrous number of natural attractions along the way. The list of things to see could fill a book, and indeed a few have been written on driving the G.O.R, but I reckon it's best to just get out there and have a look yourself. Or if you can't do that, just read this blog instead!

Consumate professionals these Bike Round Oz chaps

I'd actually ridden the G.O.R (we're on acronymic terms already) before, going in the opposite direction whilst on my round trip (the whole of Oz) expedition, but it was a nice experience to ride it with other people. Also this time it wasn't day two of being on a bike that I'd never ridden before, so I could take time to enjoy the scenery and the ride, rather than worry about bending the handlebars with my vice-like grip of terror.

Pretty dull this coast, nothing to see here move along...

The route threads its way along a majestic, convoluted, intricate and often beautiful section of the Victorian coastline and is popular with motorcyclists, drivers in general, tourists of all shapes, sizes and nationalities and Australians alike. Some stretches of the route cling tenaciously to rock walls, with nought but a metal barrier on the other side between you and the pristine waters of the Southern Ocean. It would have been terrifying if I'd not been having so much fun.

12 Apostles, no 7, no hang on. Bugger it, Australians can't count.

After having had four days of getting used to the BMW GS I was amply prepared to enjoy what motorcycling delights the route offered up, and there were plenty.

Let's just put it this way lest I resort to ever more motorbike clichés, if you ride a motorcycle and you're in Victoria, you will visit the Great Ocean Road. It's just one of those things that is the 'done' thing.

We broke for coffee in a little roadhouse along the way and well, let's just say that when you walk into a place and you're outnumbered by mullet haircuts ten to three, you take your coffee and get the hell out of dodge. We didn't linger long that's for sure, the coffee was actually pretty good mind you. Must have be generations of handed down experience, cousin to cousin to cousin...

No this isn't the one I mentioned above. What am I, crazy?

Overcast but not vindictive skies graced most of the route, only giving way to a brief but powerful thunderstorm as we reached Apollo Bay. Luckily for me, I'd voted myself as cameraman / director for the afternoon and told the Bike Round Oz fellows to bugger off back round a section of the G.O.R so I could get some video and photos. That was the point when the heavens decided to open, and I might have felt a brief pang of guilt as I watched the two BMW bikes motor off into the falling rain, droplets highlighted as slashes of yellow in their headlights. Not much mind you, just a little; plus I got over it very quickly.

Rain. It does happen in Australia from time to time, really.

The rest of the G.O.R was over in record time, too quickly in fact as it would have been quite easy to spend a whole day gawping at the scenery and sweeping round the bends, but alas we had places to be.

Some more rain, but I liked the picture so I put it in.

That place to be was Anglesea, which is where we are now. Tomorrow is essentially the end of the road trip, riding in to Melbourne to deliver the bikes to where they're needed. Right now we're debating the best method for cleaning off the accumulated road grime. I'm all for riding straight through a car wash suited and booted, but I would imagine that unless mother nature lends a hand tonight, tomorrow morning will be spent scrubbing down Broomhilda and her two yellow sisters.

Budgie smugglers and a foamy sponge on standby!

560km from the previous post..

2011-12-08T18:55:00.001+08:00

So after being awoken at some ungodly hour by the lyrical styling of the Kookaburra Dawn Chorus (available on CD or Itunes I should think), we fortified ourselves for the epic 560km ride to Port Campbell with cold pizza leftover from the night before. A hearty breakfast of champions to be sure.

Camping at bright. Pine fresh scented air comes as standard.

It may seem strange, but there isn't a great deal to report on from such a long day in the saddle other than the state of my posterior, which is probably best left between myself and my personal physician. (I'm sure she'll be thrilled) This wasn't all a jolly old jape you see, the bikes we're riding actually have to be in Melbourne at a specific time, as a Bike Round Oz group of riders is taking them (and a number of others) over to Tasmania. So today was the day we had to get some serious distance ridden.

The route we took varied from that normally taken by tour groups, this time including some delightful three lane motorway and high speed dual carriageways into the bargain, a must for every avid motorcycle fan. It wasn't all as bad as that to be honest, and we were on a mission after all.

3km left in the tank. That'll get you pretty much anywhere in Australia, possibly not back though.

The weather smiled on us for the great majority of the day, temperatures having crept up into the mid thirties (Celsius), and the occasional decrease as we rode along tree lined avenues proved to be a welcome relief. Rolling golden hills and more of the gracefully meandering roads from yesterday, provided the backdrop to our kilometre killing mission, and very scenic it was too. Even if most of it was flashing past in a blur.

We approached Port Campbell at the western end of the Great Central Road early this evening, after being briefly threatened by a tag team band of rain clouds moving across the plains, heralded by a brilliant arc of lightning on the horizon. We kept the throttles open and managed to thread our way between the storm pockets, only very occasionally picking the contents and getting a light dappling of rain for our trouble.

That's the 'work' section of the road trip over with, tomorrow we travel along the Great Ocean Road, west to east, heading towards our rendezvous in Melbourne on Saturday. Port Campbell holds a few fond memories for me, I visited on my epic round Australia trip on something like day 3 of being on the bike, so I remember the place well. We're even camping in the same spot I did all those kilometres ago. The blackbirds singing in the trees to welcome us in were a nice touch, not heard a blackbird for a good long while.

Tomorrow, unless I fall off the Great Ocean Road and get eaten by a shark, there should be more to report and some better photos.

For now, off to bed. Even the bare ground looks comfortable after 560 odd km in that saddle. On a side note though, odd expression that 'something something odd km'. I can damn well recall riding the even km too, I've got the bruises to prove it!

Bright-en up the sky...

2011-12-07T19:20:00.001+08:00

Mother nature, ours andevery other motorcyclist constant companion, nemesis and sometimesally, had her metaphorical tail between her legs today and wasobviously apologising for the less than ideal weather we'dexperienced yesterday. Day three began in blazing sunshine, andcontinued much the same for the entirety of the fun had today. If youthought I was done with motorcycling clichés yesterday, then prepareto be disappointed. (There is no escape)

We climbed up throughthe Snowy Mountains along twisting roads which kinked up and down asoften as they jinked left and right, with minimal traffic to hinderour progress as it's the “off” season in the Snowies. Famed forits skiing, there wasn't much of that to be had thanks to there beingno snow, and an awful lot of sunshine. All the small towns and chaletcomplexes we passed were eerily deserted, their sad lookingchairlifts glinting in the sun as if being shiny would somehow beenough to attract the long gone skiers back.

Ski resort, no skiers but lots of bikes

The road, I know I saidthis before but there are lot of roads like this in these parts, wasmade for motorcycling. Nobody would string together that manyhairpins, sweeping curves, tight bends, crests and troughs unlessthey had a penchant for all things two wheeled. Or they got hammeredone day down at the local highways agency, either way it all workedout nicely for us.

The big BMW, who I'm onthe cusp of christening something Germanic like Helga or Broomhilda,had apparently gone on a crash diet. She seemed to weigh half theamount she had yesterday, far more nimble and much more manoeuvrable.Somehow energised by the sight of the fantastic roads, the BMWflicked through the bends and curves, stitching together thealternating left and right varieties with ease and apparent relish;despite what the muppet in the saddle thought he was trying to makethe bike do. It's surprisingly 'me' friendly that R1200GS, must havesome sort of idiot autopilot button that I hit by accident.

As we descended fromthe physical and metaphorical high point, the scent of Eucalyptuswhich had filled the air as we rode through the forest, was replacedwith the altogether less appetising aroma of hot asphalt and meltingtar. Temperatures were rapidly rising as we descended towards theplains on yet another great road, and with the sun high in the sky,sunglasses on and a tank full of fuel, it was all in danger ofbecoming another cliché.

High up in the not-so-Snowy Mountains

We sped along throughvelvet textured grassland, liberally interspersed with vegetationcovered hills and mountains which, from a distance, gave theimpression that someone had draped a huge felt blanket of trees overthe naked bumps on the earth. The first few hours of the day had beenspent in frantic pursuit of the perfect cornering line around thebends, transitioning from one to the other with little gap between.But now, now it was if someone had turned up the wavelength on thecorners and dialled in the calm.

The road stretched farahead towards the southern horizon, the languorous bends clearlyvisible for an age before encountering them and everything about theplace said 'relax'. Instead of the rapid succession of tight corners,it was now as if the bends had decided to chill out a bit. They had alot of ground to cover, so why bunch up? Time to just sit back andenjoy the smooth ride and lazily meandering road. So we did. Althoughsitting back and enjoying the ride is easier said than done on thatmotorcycle seat. After a few days in the saddle, you start toappreciate the benefits of a sofa, or possibly a concrete bench.

Somewhere along the wayon that route a pie leapt out from nowhere and landed in my mouth,then I think it either died, or it was dying beforehand. The lesssaid about that the better to be entirely honest with you, sometimeseating on a budget just doesn't cut it.

This man wants lunch, pray it's not a pie

Tiny communities,isolated in every way dotted the landscape. We passed a few onehorse, no horse and 'someone stole the horse and ate it' towns, eachone just as inexplicably friendly and welcoming as the next, beforewe finally turned west at the settlement of Mount Beauty. From therewe were treated to a repeat performance of the sort of roadsencountered in the first part of the day, only these were possiblybetter. I just let Helga / Broomhilda get on with it and enjoyherself, I was just along for the ride after all.

I'll tell you thisthough, for a big girl with a lot of plastic on board, she can bequite graceful when the occasion calls for it.

The town of Bright,marvellously fragrant with the scent of pine trees, is where we'veended up for the night. I'm hooked on the place already, but thenpine trees do it for me. Sleeping on a bed of needles tonight,couldn't ask for a better end to a pretty damn good day.

Possibly 500km or more to cover tomorrow, so it'll be a long day. If it's still Thursday when we finish, I'll try and post a few of the better photos we've got so far. For now though, a fragrant bed of pine needles is calling.

Day three, Jindabyne to Bright

2011-12-07T06:46:00.001+08:00

Despite the best attempts of some temperatures well inside the 'quite chilly' range, we all survived the night without becoming icicles or being forced to congregate in the same tent, which is possibly worse.

Day three dawned good and early thanks to the local tribe of Galahs, who insisted on announcing to the campsite that they were all awake, therefore so should everyone else be. Still, the view from the tent could have been a darn sight more mundane:

I've woken up to worse

The Bike Round Oz chaps are doing a bit of work this morning, so I thought it best I post an update to show willing, at least for appearances sake. Today it's inland some more towards the alpine town of Thredbo, along the Alpine Way and then down to the next staging post of Bright. It's about 325km or so, but a lot of up, down, left and right so it'll be a leisurely days ride.

Lake Jindabyne. Behind the fat BMW, if you squint you might spot it

She huffed and she puffed...

2011-12-06T19:10:00.001+08:00

...but mother nature couldn't blow my house down.

Day two started much as day one had ended, in other words in the dark. It was dark, very dark when I awoke to the suffocating yellow claustrophobia, that is sleeping in my one man tent surround by motorcycle clothing. After managing to convince myself that even in the strange lands of the east coast of Australia, the custom isn't to get out of bed when it's dark, I went back to sleep until the sun deigned to grace the scene.

Batemans Bay rhymes with 'grey' and indeed it was

After a hearty breakfast consisting of the pie food group, we hit the road and mother nature let us have it with whatever she hadn't let us have the day before. More of the same insipid drizzle and gusting wind kept us awake and on our toes as we threaded our way south, interspersed with the occasional blush of sunshine to remind us what we were missing.

Despite the less than enthusiastic weather though, the highway was proving to be quite interesting to ride with plenty of scenic views along the way, provided you could squint between the water droplets on the visor. We swung west towards the Great Dividing Range (it divides things and is pretty good at it too) just outside the small town of Bega, apparently famous for cheese. Not sure if that's all cheese or just a specific type, but if it's cheese you're after then Bega is the place!

This BMW is cheese coloured, hence its inclusion here

As we progressed into the Dividing Range, threading our way along the narrow roads climbing higher every minute, the temperature did the exact opposite and legged it downwards. A brief stop to don an extra layer or two gave us a chance to look around the forests we were riding through. A mass of chlorophyll, abundantly green thanks to the rain that had been on the scene earlier. This wasn't just green, this was green with a point to prove.

The route twisted its way upwards, tight hairpins, sweeping bends, dips, rises, any number of motorcycle riding clichés were encountered along the way; the road was obviously built for bikes... and the truck carrying a lot of aloof looking horses I got stuck behind, but that's beside the point.

Once I was done examining the relative merits of the equine bottom, we emerged over the top of the mountains and threaded our way down through some vast, rolling grasslands. I was half expecting to have to slam on the brakes to avoid a herd of buffalo / bison / cowboys. The road stretched ahead for as far as the eye could see, gently curving to accommodate the hills on either side and even the sun came out to shine on our little three bike parade. Good times.

The addition of waterproof liners / over trousers or any form of waterproof garment to a bike rider, is a guarantee of good weather.

The last quarter of our days ride to Jindabyne was essentially perfect motorcycling, even rated on my somewhat dubious quality standard whereby 'perfect' basically means not falling off. Good weather, better roads and some pretty damn impressive scenery (and not falling off of course).

Despite all threats, Jindabyne the Great Dividing Range and the Snowy Mountains have so far elected to remain above freezing, although the metal chair I'm currently sitting on in a camp kitchen by the lake is probably approaching zero degrees C as I write.

There are plenty of pictures and even a whole load of video, but I'll have to deal with the majority of that when I get home, that's assuming survival of course. So for now you'll have to be content with the few scattered photos herein.

Tomorrow we're delving deeper into the Snowy Mountains, threading our way towards Thredbo (see what I did there?) and the delights to be encountered along the way. For now though, my yellow wedge of a tent and the interior of a sleeping bag is calling. Actually it's getting pretty damned cold now, wonder if the BMW has a tent heater on it somewhere.

Nope, they can't find the tent heater either

The one after the first...

2011-12-06T06:09:00.001+08:00

...the second day begins! Or rather it began earlier, much earlier, than I deigned to emerge from my tent. It's a bloody nice feeling to be back in a tent next to a motorcycle, even if it is like sleeping in a bright yellow plastic bag.

From the camp here in Batemans Bay, we're hopefully going to wiggle our way inland and up, towards the second night stop at Jindabyne in the Snow Mountains. It's threatening snow up there, I suppose the clue is in the name really, but it still seems a little over the top if you ask me.

Good job I brought extra socks with me I reckon.

Update this evening if we don't get mauled by yeti.

Sydney to somewhere not Sydney...

2011-12-05T19:08:00.001+08:00

Well we're off andrunning, or riding rather. After a night spent in the welcomingconfines of Sydney we travelled out to the bike depot, 10 mins orthree separate conversations with the taxi driver away, to collectthe three R1200GS bikes we'd been assigned for the trip from Sydneyto Melbourne.

They're a hell of a lotbigger up close and in person than they are in a 640x480 image on awebsite, that's for certain. Two vibrant yellow machines for thechaps from Bike Round Oz, and a black job for me. It's as if GoslingOne has been down the gym and on a course of illicit steroids.

Camping at Batemans Bay, miserable weather included free of charge

Being the first timeI'd been on a bike since leaving the Yamaha XT600E (Gosling One) inAustralia a couple of years back, to say the learning curve was steepwould be like comparing Everest to a small pile of icing sugar.Still, I like to think I started to get the hang of it againreasonably quickly, even managing to recover from the requisite stallbefore even setting off, without anyone noticing (or at leastmentioning it).

Weexited Sydney as fast as we could, which turned out not to be thatfast at all thanks for the quantity of Monday morning traffic andsome extremely vindictive traffic lights. Each stop at which, wasanother opportunity for me to try and drop said huge lump of Germanmetal and plastic. Sydney traffic can't last forever mind you, and weeventually popped free of the suburban chaos and into the relativelytranquil national parks to the south west.

Thundering(it felt like thundering, quiet at the back) along the tree fringedtwo lane road towards the coast was a welcome contrast to the stopstart, in and out hair raising navigation required to leave Sydney.As far as I had been concerned up til then, the 1200GS only had twogears, turns out it really has six. Live and learn.

Curving ocean side roads near the Seacliff Bridge

Stoppingin the coastal town of Thirroul for a coffee and some cake, gavemother nature an opportunity to muster her forces, leap over the treeblanketed mountains inland of the town and assault us when weventured back to the bikes. Mercifully she didn't send a great dealof rain, only an expeditionary force of wind in all strengths anddirections seemingly at once. The solid Germanic bulk of the 1200GSwasn't too bothered about all this, but my neck certainly has a fewextra kinks in it now, thanks to a few overly enthusiastic gusts aswe travelled south along the Princes Highway.

That asphalt snake thing, that's the Seacliff Bridge that is.

Apparentlythe normal advice from Bike Round Oz is for clients to find analternative to the Princes Highway as it's not rated to be terriblyinteresting, but we had to get to Batemans Bay before sundown andwere already running a bit behind. As far as I'm concerned it mightnot be up there with the 'worlds greatest roads', but it certainlywasn't as dull as I'd been expecting. Some nice little townsclustered around sheltered bays, a few twists, a few rises and only alittle traffic; although it might have all been stuck behind mydawdling bike I suppose.

When your motorcycle takes up more room than your tent, you know it's time to readdress your priorities.

We'renow camped just inland from the still apparently very annoyed ocean,in a caravan park / campsite chosen by yours truly because I wasrunning out of petrol. Nothing like necessity to make decision makinga more rapid process.

Thepreliminary plan for the morning of Tuesday is to head inland in a'wiggly' sort of fashion, towards the mountain town of Jindabyne,located in the 'BloodySoddingFreezing' mountain range...sorry, theSnowy Mountains. Reports had the temperatures up there a day or twoago at a most balmy -2 degrees C in the daytime. I know it'sDecember, but we're in Australia for crying out loud.

Campingis still on the agenda (I think this was my idea, but I don'tnormally have an agenda), but if it really is minus 2 there couldwell be a mutiny, followed by a swift exodus to a log cabin. Still, I think there's a button on this Beemer for some heated hand grips, would be a shame not to try them at least once.

East side...

2011-12-05T05:39:00.001+08:00

Arrived in Sydney yesterday evening to be greeted by decidedly 'inclement' weather. That's rubbish weather betwixt you and I. Windy, overcast and the sky was all leaky. Still, I'm not one to harp on about the foibles of the weather, I'm British dammit!

After stashing the great piles of kit I'd elected to bring with me, I hooked up with the two chaps from Bike Round Oz and we headed, somewhat predictably, to Sydney's oldest pub. Whether or not it actually has the right to claim that title is a matter of some debate, seemingly between it and the pub round the corner. Either way, it sated my airline induced hunger pangs with an ample portion of pie and mash.

We're off to collect our Germanic steeds this morning, in about 45mins in fact. 3 BMW R1200GS bikes should hopefully be awaiting us at a depot in Sydney. If not, it's a long walk to Melbourne.

They look like this:

I've probably mentioned that before, but I can't quite get used to how shiny it looks. (Also I wanted a picture to liven up this post, and I've not taken any yet) I'd best be keeping it that way too, those nice folks I mentioned before...they're looking after my credit card details, just in case.

More news to follow!

Bike round this...

2011-12-02T13:47:00.001+08:00

I've been invited, actually invited to something. Who would've thunk it.

The nice (or possibly mad) folks (of course they're nice, they invited me dammit) from BikeRoundOZ have been keeping an eye on my website, read through the article I had published a few months back and seemed to like what they saw. Either that or they didn't read it closely enough, but either way they got in touch with said invitation:

Would I like to accompany them on their annual company bike (work jolly!) trip and do a bit of writing about it along the way?

The last time I got invited to anything it was to 'step outside', so this sounded like an opportunity not to be ignored to me.

So basically, here we go again:

It's a week long trip starting tomorrow (Sunday 4th of Dec), going from Sydney over in New South Wales to Melbourne in Victoria. (Is that a lot of stuff for a week?) Apparently the route is something a bit like this:

Gosling One isn't back in my grubby little mitts just yet, but it turns out that's not a problem. Bikes are what they do at Bike Round Oz, and the mad buggers are going to let me spend a week on one of these:

They probably didn't read all the bits on the Arse About Face website where I mentioned crashing poor Gosling One into various solid objects, trying to drown her or getting bogged down in sand. Christ it's probably got shiny bits on it and everything, I can't handle shiny bits. Eeep.

Regular (daily with any luck) updates from along the way, it's not quite 10 months and 44,347km but we're back in the saddle, back on the road and that's what matters. Gosling One will forgive me this single indiscretion...I hope.

We're back baby...

2011-11-30T11:01:00.001+08:00

That's right we are, or at least I am. Back, back in the Counterweight Continent, the land of pie floaters, springy mammals and inordinately friendly locals: Australia. Gosling One, my faithful and loyal steed from the 44,347km road trip completed earlier, never left of course. I've just got to find her, and get her back! I'm comin' darlin!

I'm now based over in Western Australia, a few hours south of Perth. The plan (if it can be called such a thing) is to launch an all out assault on the unsuspecting Australian book publishers, agents and anyone that doesn't move fast enough, in an attempt to get 'Arse About Face' the book finally published.

I'll be updating this blog more frequently now as it also updates my main website over at www.arseaboutface.com, and with any luck of course, there will be plenty of reasons to update.

There's a cunning scheme in the making at the moment, so if it all pans out beautifully (what? when have any of my plans ever not worked out?) anyone that reads this will be the first to know; other than me, I'd like to think I'd know first.

Adventure Bike Rider...I read therefore I am

2011-11-23T16:40:00.001+08:00

Issue 4 of Adventure Bike Rider magazine, published a feature of mine based on the Tasmanian leg of the Australia journey.

It's was on sale in magazine format a few months back, but I reckon enough time has passed now to offer it up to all those that missed it. You can download it by following the links in the top right of the website, or clicking this link here. [5.4mb download]

It even warranted a mention on the cover (the Outback Tasmanian bit), I certainly won't be using this particular periodical as emergency toilet paper that's for sure!

It can't have been that bad as they asked me for another one! ~~Suckers~~ Erm... I mean, people of fine literary taste.

Next up will be the tale of trying to reach Cape York at the most Northern point of Australia. Not sure on the publication date for that one yet, but when I know, everyone I know will know as well.

That thing that's the opposite of nothing happening...

2011-11-23T12:23:00.001+08:00

...that's it, something happening!

I've been hard at work, honest, stop snickering at the back; tinkering with the Arse About Face website fine tuning the inner workings, generally breaking things and causing all sorts of mischief. But the end result is that I can finally use my old blog, to update the news on my official website!

I was impressed, I can tell by the stunned silence that everyone reading this is in awe.

I'll updating the blog more often now as things Watson, are afoot!

New website online..

2010-10-10T01:54:00.003+08:00

After many a month of mucking about and pulling my hair out, I've finally managed to get the new Arse About Face website online. It's over at www.arseaboutface.com if you want to have a look.

I'll probably integrate this blog into the site as a method for posting news at some point soon. Does that make it sound like I know what I'm doing? I really don't you know.

Oh and almost an afterthought: The draft of the Arse About Face book is also complete. Now, where to find a publisher or an agent? Answers on a postcard please to christian@arseaboutface.com.

Peace!

When there's nowhere left to run...

2008-02-11T21:16:00.000+09:00

Just in case people get confused, I've updated the previous two posts to include the images I was unable to upload at the time; don't feel you have to read it all again just to look at the pretty pictures though.

So, let's see where was I...oh yes, lurking with family in the French countryside.

After spending so long in the heat of Australia, what do you do when you reach Europe in the dead of winter? Why you go out and play in the snow as much as possible of course!

Yeti!
Snowshoeing turned out to be huge amounts of fun, and I only looked marginally more ludicrous than normal whilst wearing them.

Must get myself a pair of these funky plastic yellow shoes

I also busied myself helping sort out various log-related issues, splitting, moving, stacking etc. and remarkably came away with all my digits accounted for. Not wishing to push my luck with an axe too far, I bade farewell to my family and headed back to Italy on the train, then up north to Switzerland. I was intending to do some more freeloading with family-types you see, and they live in Switzerland, where I could hopefully expand my collection of gold bars and cuckoo clocks.

Andeer in Switzerland, a proper bloody winter
Spent a week or so there, had a whale of a time. Surprisingly I ended up doing more wood related activities, this time with a chainsaw and a jeep however; so the potential for involuntary amputation was a little higher. Luck was still with me though, and I came away unscathed, despite my best efforts to make use of my travel insurance policy. There was a point behind all this chopping and hacking mind you, namely staying warm in the sub-zero Switzerland temperatures.

Vroom vroom, screeech...crash!
I re-awakened a long dormant love of waist-deep snow while I was there, much better than those limp wristed winters we get in England. (although even the lightest dusting of the white stuff seems to be enough to cause widespread panic and chaos)

Completely legless (sorry)
Next stop after Switzerland was Germany, to visit a friend that I first met in Broome, Australia no less. That's one of the great things about this travelling malarky, the random encounters which then lead on to more encounters and more things. Spent a nice few days in the fatherland; before jumping (well, more like stumbling) onto a night train through Germany and France; and arriving at Dieppe in the dingy morning light, and the pouring rain. The weather, once again proving to be a suitable metaphor for my mood at the time.

A rather miniscule vessel (I'm used to bigger things now dontcha know), had me across the ditch (English Channel) in a little over four hours. I stepped out of the gloomy interior, into blazing sunshine, clear blue skies and onto British soil at exactly 15:47 and 36sec on 30/01/2008. Just short of three years since I left.

Look, it's the white cliffs of the southern coast of England!

Look look, there they are
For those that don't like flying, the trip from Shanghai in China to Newport in England, was completed without leaving the ground once; not too shabby, even if I do say so myself.

This will be the final blog update for the forseeable future. I'll be concentrating all my energies on trying to find work and making some money, ostensibly so I can buy a bike and naff off around Europe; but who knows how long that will take. If I get my finger out and crack on, I'll be trying to write something about the Australia bike section of the trip: if nothing else, it beats looking for a real job for a while. I'll also make a proper "ArseAboutFace" website, so stay tuned for that. (Although I recommend not holding your breath)

Many thanks to all those that donated to MSF while I was on the motorcycle expedition, and my eternal gratitude to all those I met along the way who made it such a pleasurable experience. You know who you are.

Be excellent to each other.

One size fits all

More snow related fun, this time...sledging!

High Seas Hijinks...

2008-01-16T19:47:00.000+09:00

After what seemed to be days and days of talking to Chinese brick walls, I finally made contact with the shipping agent. First person he’d ever had embarking from Shanghai apparently, which didn’t fill me with the greatest confidence in his abilities. Turned out he did know what he was doing however, and I made it through all the vagaries of the Chinese immigration / customs system with nary a hitch; signed on board as a new engine technician no less.

The MV Al Fujairah turned out to be a very acceptable mode of transport, referred to by the German officers as a “comfortable prison”, albeit with a self-imposed sentence. Accommodation was very nice, almost akin to a floating hotel; food was plentiful and tasty, as long as you didn’t mind the unusual mix of German and Philippino influences. (The officers were German, and the crew were from the Philippines)

A handy sauna and gym were provided (consisting of a bike machine, a ping-pong table and a broken rowing machine) for those of a sadistic nature, and a couple of seawater pools for floating in; fish in a bowl simulator in heavy seas. Used quite a lot in the more southerly elevations, but unsurprisingly deserted when we got up to the cooler waters.

The fishbowl

So life quickly settled into an acceptable routine of breakfast at 7:30 (bloody early risers!), coffee up on the bridge, reading, writing, drawing (that sort of thing), and evenings spent watching knockoff Chinese DVD’s with the crew, and attempting to avoid the dreaded karaoke machine in the crew bar. The Philippino crew had disturbing propensity for belting out pop songs from their home country, usually with lyrics along the lines of “beer beer beer beer!”, I kid you not; I found myself quite close to jumping overboard a few times.

New Year dinner, a sea-pig

New Years party, somewhere near the Cannanore Islands (south west of India)

Christmas was spent on approach to the Singapore docks, and for new year we were to be found around the Cannanore Islands, belonging to India. (Down near Sri Lanka) The new year BBQ of pig (where we got that from I’ll never know, perhaps it swam past), also led to some more impressive singing from the crew. I’m fairly certain that their dulcet tones were enough to interfere with the migration of any passing whales, and to deter all but the hardiest of pirates.

Last sunset of 2007

First sunrise of 2008, yes I actually got out of bed to see it

Speaking of pirates, the closest we came was drifting for two days without engine power (due to a damaged piston), within sight of the Somalian coast; a region renowned for it’s pirate infested waters. All hopes of meeting Keira Knightley in pirate-garb were unfortunately dashed, it turns out pirates these days come with assault rifles, machetes and a worrying habit of kidnapping crews and holding them for ransom.

In the end, we just upgraded our security level one notch. That involved locking all the outside hatches, extra watches and patrols, and I was asked to stop running around on deck shouting “Yaaaaar!”. Killjoys. Shame really, I was quite looking forward to going all “Steven Segal” on a few piratey scallywags. Of course the more sensible option is to lock everyone in an easily defensible room, and let the pirates have their way with the cargo; it’s just not quite so filmik or exciting.

One knackered piston, the reason we were stuck in pirate infested waters for two days

Sundown off the coast of Yemen a.k.a scary pirate waters

So that was our only brush with potential high-seas miscreants, luckily.

Going all "Titanic" at the bow

If anyone ever finds themselves on a similar vessel, I highly recommend spending as much time down at the bow (pointy bit at the front for all you landlubbers) as you can. All the engine noise and commotion is 200m back behind you, and it is eerily quiet up the front; almost like being on a gigantic yacht. It’s also a good spot for experiencing the effects of weightlessness in high seas, with the deck rising up and then dropping away at a great rate. Not recommended for the weak of stomach though.

There weren’t too many chances for the sort of experience however, as apart from the last couple of days in the Mediterranean, Poseidon was kindly disposed toward us; I got my xmas wish of calm seas.

Luckily for me, the sea looked a lot like this for most of the time

The fire on-board and abandon ship drills were the only deviation from the comfortable routine, and it was all quite good fun. After having been strapped into the vertical drop life-vessel, I can safely say I wouldn’t want to be incarcerated in that thing during bad weather. I think it would rapidly become deserving of the moniker “the vomit comet”, that’s pretty much for certain. We all survived the imaginary fire without incident, although for some reason the captain deemed it necessary to abandon ship after we’d extinguished said fire; all a bit “arse about face” (shameless plug!) really.

The lifeboat, a.k.a the vomit comet

They look very happy considering we're abandoning ship

Inside the "vomit comet", looking up and out

So that was about it really, 26 days at sea and we finally sailed into Genoa at 0300 in the morning, with the snow dusted mountains of Italy bidding us a chilly welcome to Europe.

Genoa in Italy, where I left the ship

Apologies for the lack of pictures, I’m currently staying with some family in the French countryside near Nice, internet access is limited to dialup, so picture will be up one I managed to get back into the 21^st century.

Belated xmas and new year wishes to all!

Here are some photos from the voyage:

The Chinese port of Yantian

In port at Yantian, China

Unloading at night in Singapore (view from my porthole)

A bit of the Sailor's Hornpipe for xmas

Approaching Yantian port in China

Yantian deep water harbour

Singapore docks by night

In convoy, moving through the Suez Canal

A friendly tugboat

Darkness and rain, make for an interesting canal transit

Sunshine deck, lounge area and shuffleboard court

I think we're being followed

Somewhere in the Arabian gulf

You get a lot of nice sunsets on the high seas

In port, Yantian - China

View from the bridge

Sunrise ahead of the ship

Ship's compass plus sunset (duh)

The Egyptian side of the Suez Canal

Chasing the Dragon...

2007-12-15T21:19:00.000+09:00

The train was good fun, although it did get a little monotonous after a while, especially not being able to talk to my companions in the carriage; however even if I had been able to, it seemed they were taking the opportunity to catch up on their sleep.

My companions on the train from Xiamen to Shanghai

The dining-car had been taken over as an impromptu HQ for the Chinese military, so the options for food were diminished to the bloke with the handcart full of instant noodles. Getting my grubby little mitts on any was another matter though. I think he must have been training for the Beijing Olympics, as by the time you knew he was coming, he'd blasted past at a great rate of knots, and you were forced to run up the train to catch him.

En-route to Shanghai from Xiamen

And thusly, after enduring a long and quite comfortable train journey if I were to be honest, I arrive in the bustling metropolis of Shanghai. Although it wasn't exactly 'bustling' when I showed up, what with it being about midnight n'all, I suppose it could bustle in it's sleep; but I didn't notice.

The glory that is Shanghai (image NOT approved by the Chinese Tourism Board), ok it was raining as well

Turns out Shanghai is quite cold at this time of year, what with it being substantially further north than Xiamen, and it being December (well duuuh); although I must admit it is turning out to be a welcome change from heat of previous months. It's quite a novelty to be able to see one's breath when walking the streets; although I could do without the throat tickling smog.

Shanghai, the up-market area

Have been taking in the sights (glimpsed through the ever-present haze), and trying to organise where I need to be to meet my ship.

This was some fellow's house, built entirely out of whatever he could find, and erected under the motorway.

Somewhere on the river is about as far as i've got so far, and it's a pretty long river. Hopefully I'll be able to narrow it down by the time we sail, as it's a long swim otherwise, and I don't really fancy the look of the water around here.

Bikes as far as the eye can see, outside the local metro station

Not having a lot of luck uploading photos, these are the only ones i've managed to get online at the moment:

Old meets new in China, old loses

Singapore at night, sponsored by DHL for some reason

Singapore at night

Gulangyu an island off the coast of Xiamen (also an island)

One of the many craft plying the waters between Xiamen and Gulangyu

This is the cheapest option for crossing the water to Gulangyu, row yourself
This is probably the last update before I board the ship for Italy (at least I HOPE I'll be boarding ths ship to Italy), so there will be a bit of a gap between now and the next update.

Six demon bag...

2007-12-11T13:17:00.000+09:00

So after bidding a fond farewell to my friends in Perth and Australia itself, I was away to Singapore aboard a soaring metal bird. Arrived at 2am to discover that the mass transit system didn't begin running until 6am, so I spent most of the early hours lurking in the only open coffee shop in the arrivals hall.

After escaping the clutches of the airport, I took in the sights of Singapore (again); hardly felt like any time had passed since I was last stalking the ever so clean and tidy streets. Temperatures were high, and humidity was even higher; it was something like walking through a hot, damp sponge. Not particularly pleasant, trust me.

Returning to the airport on the last train of the night, meant that I was seven hours early for my flight, that's what you get for being stingy and not wanting to spend the extra on a taxi. It did give me plenty of time to practice yoga position in between two airport chairs, whilst trying to get a bit of sleep.

I turned out to be the only non-Asian person on the flight to Xiamen, which meant I ended up near the back of the queue for checking in as I lack the pointy elbows necessary to advance in the Asian queuing system. All checked in eventually though, and the airline even decided to have the safety briefing in English, which I felt was a little pointless.

Arriving in Xiamen I found myself a taxi driver who didn't understand a word of English, which complimented my lack of Mandarin skills quite nicely. We managed to understand each other for the essentials in the end though, and after a taxi ride through the city worthy of Grand Theft Auto. I stumbled out of the taxi and straight into bed. (Not literally though, his driving wasn't quite that bad!)

One sleeping beauty impression later, and I was off to explore Xiamen...which I've been doing for the last few days. No pictures at the moment I'm afraid, as we're not quite that advanced in this hostel. I'll upload some when I get to Shanghai.

Speaking of which, it's a mere 24 hours by train, leaving tonight at about 22:30 and arriving the next day at about the same time. I splashed out on a bed this time; I wasn't going to risk it, not after the buttock torturing experience of the long distance trains in Australia!

I'm finding it quite good fun being "in at the deep end", both culturally and linguistically. Don't have a clue what the hell is going on most of the time, and people on electric bicycles keep trying to flatten me. Eating is an interesting exercise, and I've been following the mantra of "if it looks good, I'll eat it". So far it's stood me in good stead, although I rarely have a clue about what it is I'm eating, until after the event. Nothing illness inducing so far though, just eat where the locals eat.

Stay tuned for pictures, bring on the iron horse!

Planes, trains and floaty metal things...

2007-12-01T14:03:00.000+09:00

First up, apologies those few valiant souls that read this blog, for the lack of updates just recently; i've been doing some of that...erm, what's it called...horrible stuff...work, yes that's it! so there has been little to report.

My time in Australia is finally drawing to a close, and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all the people I've met along the way for their help, support and friendship. The expedition round Australia wouldn't have been the same without you.

I'd also like to offer my gratitude to those who helped support MSF during my motorcycle adventure, and also to mention that the donation page is still open for those that wish to contribute to the good works done by MSF.

What's going on then? Well, let me fill you in... Expiring visas and a bank account that echos worryingly when you yell into it, means that the time has finally come for me to start the journey "home".

So, how does one get back to the UK from Australia? Direct flight I hear you say? Nay, not for me I cry! Sensible option that, but as I think i've mentioned before, I don't really do sensible any more.

So to that end, I present my route home: (or at least to Italy, from there it's anyones guess as to how I'll get back to the UK)

Click the map for an easier to read version. Basically it's a flying cigar tube to Singapore (again), then on to Xiamen in China. With any luck from there I'll be catching a train for the 25 hour journey north to Shanghai. Once in Shanghai I intend to run around like a headless chicken, in an attempt to find which berth, and at which port my transport to Italy has docked at; the MV Al Fujairah:

The MV Al Fujairah, or Gosling II as I like to call her

Now speed is clearly not the realm in which this beast resides, at 216m long, 32m wide and weighing in at 45,470 tonnes, you can safely say I won't be setting any speed records for the trip from Shanghai to Italy; in fact, it's scheduled to take 24 days. (give or take a few due to weather, diversions and /or miscellaneous pirate activity)

24 days at sea...all I want for Christmas is calm seas; you hear me Mother Nature?! Calm dammit!

I'll be keeping this blog updated as often as possible, much like before; although I'd imagine the posts will be less to do with motorcycles and more of the nautical variety. I've got my fingers crossed that the vessel will be crewed entirely by good looking women, although I think that's probably a bit of a long shot.

The only depressing thing about this whole exercise, is the fact that I've had to sell Gosling One in order to be able to even remotely fund the trip back. A plus point is that she's going to a good home, and will continue to bounce around all over Australia. (Cue the Born Free music, and some sniffling from the audience)

Cast off all lines ya scallywags!

All dressed up and nowhere to go...

2007-10-20T16:53:00.000+08:00

Just a short update to show that Gosling One scrubs up quite nicely when she's not being hammered around the outback. I'm a different kettle of fish entirely, it'd take more than a wash to get me looking respectable.

Gosling One in her normal condition

All dressed up and nowhere to go

It's unnatural I tells ya, she's not designed to be this clean!

Right, I'm off for a shower...or seven.

Bring the noise!

2007-10-10T20:02:00.001+08:00

You can view five videos over at the Arse About Face channel (http://www.youtube.com/arseaboutfacedotcom), but I quite like this one; so you can view it directly below:

The blog update proper is just below this entry:

Seven days in the sun...

2007-10-09T18:07:00.000+08:00

Leaving Alice Springs with my lovely new tyres, I was faced with the problem of what to do with my old ones which wern't quite completely worn out (and that I was to be charged silly-money to get rid of). It goes against the grain to throw things away that are still perfectly usable, so, to that end I created a 'tyre cache'.

Gosling one, wielding an extra set of tyres

Any fellow motorcycle travellers or people near Alice Springs, this one is for you. There is a Bridgestone Trailwing TW41 21" front tyre, 65% worn and a Dunlop D605 4.60-17" rear tyre, 80% worn buried at these coordinates: S23deg 49' 21.8" E133deg 28' 25.7", opposite the turn-off for 'Glen Helen' at the base of a large tree. Hopefully someone will be able to use them for something, they just wern't quite up to getting me all the way back to Perth. Which was certainly proven by the state of my new D605 on arrival in Western Australia.

The tyres are buried at the base of this tree

Anyway, back to business. I made my way down from Alice Springs over towards Ayers Rock (Uluru), because it's apparantly an offense punishable by 50 lashes to not go and see 'the rock' when you visit Australia. I have to admit to being a little underwhelmed at first glance, I actually found Mount Conner (just down the road) a lot more visually impressive from a distance. It's hard not to be a little in awe of Uluru when you get up close though, it's sheer size in the middle of an otherwise fairly empty landscape, makes you stop and stare. That is until the millions of flies that are also on a holiday to Uluru find you, then you rapidly continue walking.

Some big rock thingy I found in the desert

Uluru, not even remotely like Uhura from Star Trek

A note to prospective visitors: it is definately not advisable to walk around the base of Uluru at midday, in motorcycle trousers. To say it was a little warm would be an understatement. The controversial question of "to climb or not to climb?" was answered for me, as the route to the top was closed due to predicted temperatures in excess of 36deg C. I'm pretty certain I wouldn't have done it anyway, it looked like bloody hard work!

Flies en-mass

From there I proceeded over to the other geologically knobbly feature of the area, the Olgas. This was also where I would join the eastern end of the Great Central "Road", which would take me through the centre of Australia over to the west. Of course mother nature (as always) had been watching, plotting and biding her time, so by the time I started out on the sandy track into the interior of Australia, the wind was blowing as hard as it could.

The Olgas (Desert + additional knobbly bits)

Normally this isn't more than a minor annoyance, however as the track was made up almost entirely of sand, and the surrounding landscape was predominantly desert; so the gusting wind was whipping up some evil sand storms. The photos don't do them justice, but it was almost a complete 'whiteout' at various points along the track; with me being unable to slow down as I needed to keep the speed reasonably high to be able to navigate the deep sand on the track.

A small sandstorm on the Great Central Road (couldn't photograph the big ones)

A small sandstorm on the Great Central Road (couldn't photograph the big ones)

Luckily, by the time I got about 200km along the route, the wind died down a gale-force or two and things became a little less heart-attack inducing. It was quite nice to be able to relax a little bit and not have to worry about crashing into stationary camels, road-trains, pyramids, egyptologists and other desert-related road hazards in the near zero visability.

One humped roadblocks

Speaking of camels, to say there were a few would definately be an understatement. Luckily they seemed to display slightly more road sense than your average cow, sheep or kangaroo. They've definately mastered the art of the "dirty look" too; being able to stare you down with an expression that suggests they are thoroughly offended by your presence, and would quite appreciate it if you effed-off as soon as possible.

This bunch have got the hump (ahaha!)

So after about three days of being looked down at by camels, fighting against the elements, getting ripped off for fuel and generally having a grand old time sliding about; I attained the western end of Great Central Road, by arriving at the town of Laverton. Pretty much the only other traffic on the track up to this point had been four trucks hauling mine equipment, and man were they ever big.

Size isn't everything, but I wasn't going to press the point with this chap

From here, the logical choice would have been to head straight for Perth; however I never made any claims about my grasp of logic, and besides, I had unfinished business to attend to. Up to that point I had visited four of my five targets: the most northerly, easterly, southerly and central points of mainland Australia. People with a good memory will remember that my inital attempt on "Steep Point", the most westerly spot; ended in me wussing out after getting continually bogged down trying to cross the dunes.

En-route to Steep Point

This is what you have to ride through to reach Steep Point

This time however, I was not to be put off so easily. After stripping the bike of every bit of unecessary weight, I had another crack at it. It was basically 40km (80km round trip) of riding through, up, along and over various series of sand dunes. Luckily for me, it would appear that my time round Australia had given me a bit more of a grasp on the off-road skills required than I had last time (and possibly less weight too), so it actually turned out to be quite good fun once I got into the swing of things. I'd also like to mention that there were no bike droppages at all on that day. (Which would make it a rarity I should think)

Steep Point: Most westerly spot of mainland Australia

With the westerly point attained, I now had the complete collectors set of Australian extremities! Unfortunately that also meant that I had to return to Perth, an easy couple of days ride to the south. Unfortunate because that would mark the end of the expedition, and I have to admit to being in no rush whatsoever to stop. I made the most of the time I had left, and was suitably grumpy when packing up my last campsite.

Not a happy camper, last campsite of the trip

Whilst I wasn't pleased to be finishing, that's not to say there wasn't a certain sense of accomplishment. After all, the grand total was 44,347km or 27,556 miles around Australia. Not bad, even if I do say so myself.

Mission accomplished!

So now I'm back in Perth, editing together a few video clips which I will post on completion, and hopefully earning enough cash to fund the start of my journey "home".

Thanks to all those that supported MSF during this adventure, we finally reached the fundraising goal! Thanks of course to everyone that supported me too; before, during and after. You know who you are.

A few more additional pictures to tide you over: (Click any for a larger version, as above)

Bloody mix up with the valet parking!

Last sunset of the trip

Thorny Devil (down by the front tyre), possibly the coolest lizard ever

Coolest...lizard...ever

Puncture repair kit on standby

Godzilla!

Nature at work: this waspy thing stung, then flew off with, that grey spider. Good job too, the bugger was lurking near my tent!

The traditional outback 'skimpies' establishment. With any luck Kat and Sam are women.

Colourful handlebar decorations

This parrot developed a relationship with itself in my mirror

My rally driving career gets off to a bad start

Part of the Great Central Road

To hell with your rules man, I'll park at 70 degrees, I'm a rebel me!

Who the #$*! is Alice?

2007-09-22T11:09:00.000+08:00

I have no excuse for my tardiness in updating this blog; or rather I have many excuses, none of which will pass muster.

The run from Melbourne through to Adelaide went very well, with me retracing my tyre treads from the first run around Australia. That's right folks, once all the way around this very large country has been completed. Hooray! Now I just have to get back over to Perth...cake of piece.

View from the Great Ocean Road, near Johanna Beach

As I mentioned, everything was trouble free for the most part, until that is the clutch cable snapped near Adelaide. Coincidence that it happened so soon after being in the mechanics? Perhaps, but I take solace in blaming them anyway. So I had a few days of cooling my heels near Adelaide. Once again, many thanks to the friends of mine, who valiantly put up with me watching all their DVDs and drinking all their tea.

Clutching hold of nothing

Once said cable had been replaced, I headed north, up through the Flinders Ranges National Park, before joining the start of the Oodnadatta Track at Maree. Temperatures are now well above the maximum level for wearing clothes, although social etiquette demands that I continue wearing at least some. Bloody prudes.

The Oodnadatta Track, not all of it...just a bit

Anyway, the run up the Oodnadatta Track was pretty interesting, sand and gravel for the most part, following the route of the old railway. This meant there were plenty of railway related sights to be had, the railway siding at Curdimurka providing a nice shelter from the desert nights.

Camping it up at Curdimurka siding

The dead center of Australia, thought it warranted a cheesy picture

The end of the Oodnadatta Track at Marla, saw me rejoin the highway for a spell, heading North. Called in at the very centre of Australia, near the Aboriginal community of Finke; also the home of the Finke Desert Race, although I was a little early (about 7 months) to actually enter officially, but it didn't stop me having a go anyway. :-D

Hot work this racing in the desert malarky...what, you're supposed to use a vehicle? Ohhhh.
So now I find myself in the tourist haven of Alice Springs, a small touch of 'civilisation' in an otherwise very deserty, desert region. Re-shod the bike with new tyres yesterday and am taking today as an 'off' day, to catch up on things like sleeping and eating. From Alice I will be heading over to Ayers Rock (Uluru) tomorrow, then down the Great Central Road through the desert, over to Western Australia.

Best desert fatigues all round, and don't forget the sun-tan lotion!

On another note, cheers to 'Trailbike Adventure' magazine over here in Oz, who kindly printed an email I sent them, any minute now the charitable donations will be pouring in...aaany minute now....I can feel it. There was also a mention in "Australian Roadrider' magazine, and '2Wheels' mag, although I've yet to be able to grab hold of a copy of those. But thanks to them too!

Trailbike Adventure Mag

Lake Eyre South, off the Oodnadatta Track: Salty

Transport options through the desert have improved somewhat since I was last here

One of many 'dust devils'

Protest art in the desert, or drunken plane parking; take your pick

Approaching the Flinders, honestly they're over there somewhere

Has anyone actually every seen a happy looking camel? I certainly haven't

Curdimurka siding on the Oodnadatta Track

Curdimurka siding on the Oodnadatta Track

In the pine forests of South Australia, having a tea break

Sand sand and more sand

One of the Finke locals checking out Gosling One

Gentlemen, I wash my hands of this weirdness...

2007-09-02T08:45:00.000+08:00

A projected timescale of five to six hours, eventually became a grand total of almost three weeks, but I have finally been reunited with Gosling One. She's looking rather dashing, even if I do say so myself. I even found a spot on the front wheel that was actually reflecting light, imagine that, a shiny bit on my motorcycle! Shiny!

All back in one piece. Now 90% new parts!

My wallet however now resembles the head of the latest celebrity heiress, i.e only there for show, and filled with nothing of value. The parts list for all the work done ran to four pages, and a similar number of figures for the final bill. Still, it's good to have a bike that is 100% reliable for the up and coming desert sections of Australia. (fingers crossed at least)

The run from Melbourne to Adelaide will be used to 'break in' the new engine components, and hopefully that will be the full extent of any breaking going on. At least the mechanics seemed to have a sense of humour:

Har-de-har-har, observe the stated colour

My eternal gratitude to the friends I met in Cape York, for letting me mess up their home by staying with them for the last few weeks. Without their hospitality I would probably have been sleeping on a park bench and eating squirrels. Cheers!

Stay tuned to hear how the run to Adelaide goes.

Panoramamania...

2007-08-22T07:57:00.001+08:00

Poor old Gosling One remains in hospital awaiting parts, although with any luck it should be no more than a day or so before she is back on her wheels. It had better be, otherwise I know of a few mechanics that could well be on the receiving end of a number of creatively explicit nouns.

To keep me from descending into premature insanity while I wait, I've assembled a few panoramas from their component photos, which you can take a gander at below this text; quite a lot of glue and sellotape was involved.

Click on any of the pictures to see the full-size version, although be warned, they are quite large.

Riding over the rolling prairie-like landscape of a drained dam

The city of Cairns, as seen from the Marina

The view you are rewarded with once you reach the very top of Australia

Creek crossing via log bridge on the Telegraph Track leading to Cape York

'Gunshot Creek' on the Telegraph Track to Cape York. The photo does not do the angle of descent involved justice at all

My camp on the far left, with the by now official support team scattered around the rest of the clearing. The was taken on the north side of 'Nolan's Brook' on the Telegraph Track to Cape York

To give you a general idea of what is left to do, here is a little map. The route is very roughly indicated by the red line, the UK shaped blob is obviously the UK, and the blue line is the USA. That should give you an incling of the distances remaining. I forget where the map came from, somewhere on the Internet though, so thanks to whoever came up with it in the first place!

The bit in red is the part of the route still left to complete

Someone shot my hamster...

2007-08-17T09:50:00.000+08:00

This is the new VERY fuel efficient model of Gosling One:

Unsurprisingly for a mechanical device associated with me, things became a bit more complicated than a simple top-end rebuild. Various seized bolts in awkward positions meant that the engine needed to be removed to gain access. (ordinarily this wouldn't have been necessary apparently) Of course getting the engine out proved to be an impossible task due to a seized bolt / axle in the swing arm. Hammers worthy of Hercules himself, and even heat applied to the problem area proved fruitless. Eventually the only option left employ a sharp object to cut the offending bolts off.

I'm assured by the doctor that it is all "downhill from here", although hopefully he was referring to the level of difficulty for the remaining procedures and not Gosling One's survival chances!

The most annoying thing about all this is that I can't get in there and assist. I think I'd make a good nurse, I've got the hips for one of those nurses outfits. I'm stuck getting updates via telephone and pressing my nose up against the plexiglass window in the workshop; I'm not allowed in because of the insurance risk annoyingly.

My wallet may require some CPR and a defibrillator after all this though.

Stay tuned.

I come from the land of ice and snow...

2007-08-10T08:35:00.000+08:00

Greetings oh loyal reader from almost Melbourne!

Cabramurra, highest town in Australia; deep within the Snowy Mountains. Just for reference, it's -4 deg C at this point. (Factor in the wind-chill, and it was about three days before I could feel my fingers again)

I say 'almost' as I am lurking in the eastern suburbs at the moment after booking Gosling One into a local mechanics, for the motorcycle equivalent of open heart surgery. I'm fairly certain the procedure will still involve a large hammer at some point though. A top-end engine rebuild with a new piston, cam-chain and various other complicated sounding items that probably don't come with usable instructions.

It'll be good to get the loyal steed reconditioned. I consider it a thank you gift to the bike for getting me safely 'almost' all the way round Australia. (Plus with any luck it'll add a bit to the re-sale value!) Once the work is completed early next week, I shall ride the last few hundred KM back to my start point, thus finishing the complete lap of Australia. Cue massive party, lots of press, groupies, a ticker-tape parade and loose women everywhere.

Unfortunately reality is more likely to be a celebratory pack of 2-minute noodles, a fill up at the nearest fuel station and then heading off into the central deserts. I've still got to get back to Perth you see, so it's not quite as easily finished as all that!

Over to Adelaide, up to Port Augusta, along the Oodnadatta Track, over to Ayers Rock, down the Great Central 'Road' and finally back to Perth. Only umpteen thousand km, piece of cake I'll be home in time for tea.

Meanwhile my journey from Sydney to Melbourne was fairly standard, unless you count the arctic temperatures (-4 and -2 all day for a few days) and the apparently unreported hurricane that seems to start up every time I jump on the bike. Still, it's all a bit of a laugh innit? Right?

Road conditions in the Snowy Mountains

Three points down on my effort to reach all four extremities of the Australian continent, south was the most recently visited one. Could only ride to within 20km of the actual point, so I resorted to hoofing it through Wilson's Promontory National Park. A 40km round trip in one day, on foot. I certainly knew I'd been exercising the next morning I can tell you!

The VERY uninspiring sign that greets you at the southern most point

Will post an update regarding the bike engine operation as soon as I have news. It's like waiting next to a sick friends hospital bed! Perhaps she'd appreciate a bunch of grapes? Motorbikes like grapes right?

Finally I spotted a Wombat!

Typically Australian, would you just look at all that sand and desert?!

A nicely snow-free, but still bloody cold camp in the forest

This noisy bugger decided it would be nice to try and look under my tent for food in the middle of the night

Mount Oberon in Wilson's Promontory National Park

The southern most point of mainland Australia - Lunch break

From my upcoming book of modelling poses titled: 'Christ my feet are cold' :-D

Due South...

2007-07-31T10:42:00.000+08:00

I wish to report that rumours of my death have been highly exaggerated, however rumours of my laziness in updating this blog are spot on. Sorry about that!

So, after recovering from my various underwater expeditions up on Cape York, it was time to get cracking moving south down the east coast. The weather had anticipated this move by me, and in a cunning counter-strike it decided to drop the temperature to "it's frickin' freezing out here Mr Bigglesworth!" levels. I kid you not, every night and morning since departing Cairns has been an exercise in important appendage shrinking exposure training. Chilly? I should bloody co-co!

I wound my way south mainly sticking to long since abandoned inland routes, as these proved to be far more interesting than the more mundane (but faster) coastal highway. Of course the route I chose had a tendency to wiggle its way up and around the Great Dividing Range, which meant the whole "argh I can't feel my fingers!" situation was somewhat exacerbated. Plus of course me being a clever bugger, I'd posted my thermals back to Perth way back when I was suffering in the oven like temperatures of the Northern Territory. Makes quite a nice change not sweating like a Swede in a sauna though.

Kayaking in the Whitsundays

Popped out to the Great Barrier Reef / Whitsunday Islands when I got to Airlie Beach, as it would really be my last chance before getting further south. Spent quite a nice (and also nicely warm) day kayaking all over the show, spotting turtles, snorkelling and generally making an aquatic nuisance of myself. Continued on south from there before progress was severely arrested in the town of Gympie, by a mechanical gremlin (who thought that would happen to me? to me of all people?!).

Not kayaking in the Whitsundays

I'll not go into too many details (as people may fall asleep), but I was stuck in Gympie for about a week, camping in a highway rest area. Turned out the problem was an air leak around where the carburettor joined the engine, meaning too much air was getting in and the bike was acting like a fish out of water. Gasping, coughing, spluttering and generally giving the impression that it was about to explode. (not that a fish out of water would explode, but you catch my drift)

The leg bone is connected to the...

With some help from a chap called Steve who I met in the campground (usefully a small-engine mechanic, what are the chances?), I was back on the road once again and the bike is now like a brand new machine. Runs well, more power, more efficient and it even makes the coffee in the morning. (ok so I made that last part up)

Called in at Surfers Paradise for a quick look-see, and spent most of the time drinking a coffee outside the Tiffany's store. I felt the atmosphere outside the front of the shop would benefit from having a dirty, smelly biker drop dust all over the place. Marvellous! I also managed to catch up with some of the members of the unofficial support team from Cape York, which was really nice. Good to see them again!

Compressing the last few of weeks into a paragraph means that I have now arrived in Sydney. I've also finally managed to get some new suspension for the bike, which I actually managed to fit myself without breaking anything, I must be getting better at this mechanic lark. So now I don't get a free spinal adjustment every time I venture onto unsealed roads, which tends to happen quite a lot.

Replacing the rear shock absorber

Old on the right, new on the left (well, newer-ish)

So I'm camped in the suburbs at a place called Miranda, as finding somewhere in the centre with secure parking for the bike proved to be nigh on impossible. Still, it probably would've felt far too weird sleeping under something other than canvas.

I WILL keep this updated a bit more regularly from now on, but too keep y'all entertained for a while, here are some pictures:

Steve assisting me in rescuing the bike (ok it doesn't look deep, but wait til a bit further down the page)

Pushing uphill, only to turn around to try and start the engine back down the hill

See, I told you it was bloody deep

Getting a helping hand to progress through the thigh deep mud

Friends of mine JUST managing to get across Nolans Brook on the Telegraph Track

Just to prove I don't always end up underwater...

Tally ho!

The Sydney Harbour Bridge (not pictured, the Sydney Harbour Bridge players)

Op-er-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Made it to the most easterly point of mainland Australia

Psychedelic hills

More operatic scenery

Nice back road through the hills

Sydney

Aaaaand, pose!

I am a shadow of my former self

Gosling One, posing for the camera

Helmet hair!

You can't see too well in the photo, but it's about 1KM straight down at this point

Bloody hitchhikers

On the grassy knoll

It's all work, work, work...

Taking it easy

Look I don't just laze around all the time you know

Through the pine forests

Wallaman falls, highest in Australia

Thieving Butcher Bird, after my morning coffee

Ever get the feeling you're being watched?

More relaxing, it's a hard life

Incommunicado...

2007-07-26T08:15:00.000+08:00

Coming soon, a nice (and hopefully interesting) update, with lots of pictures.

A couple of days and it'll be up for all to ignore. :-)

Fish in my headlight...

2007-06-26T08:54:00.000+08:00

I have returned triumphant, relatively in one piece and rather soggily from the very top of the Australian continent! I've tried to keep this update brief although it's still pretty damn long. I'll post as many pictures as I can, as apparently each one of those is worth at least 1000 words. So I can cheat and pretend I've got a massive word count.

Heading north from Cairns with new tyres front and rear, I stuck close to the coast up to the Daintree National Park and Cape Tribulation, in the heart of the 'wet tropics'. Who would've thought that with a name like that, it would actually be bloody wet?! Spent two nights camping at Cape Tribulation waiting for the rain to stop, as my route north would be impassable in the wet. (Due to lots of mud and hefty inclines)

With the rain finally letting up it was north along the 'Bloomfield Track' to Cooktown, past the Black Mountain National Park, and then west along 'Battle Camp Road' (a 4wd track) to join the Peninsula Development Road. 'Road' is a term which is open to much debate; the route was mainly sand, gravel, mud and some very large potholes. One of which, just outside the Archer River Roadhouse, I didn't spot in time to slow down or avoid. Cue a suspension testing, bone rattling, arse numbing descent into said pothole. Luckily, no damage done (or so I thought)

Rolling to a stop outside the fuel pumps I noticed quite a lot of oil dripping into the dust under fuel tank. Now I usually like my oil on the INSIDE of my motorcycle, so I was somewhat concerned at this development. Turned out the shock of the impact had cracked the frame just in front of the fuel tank, causing the oil (which is kept, normally, inside the frame) to leak at an alarming rate. Cue a large number of words not really repeatable in polite company, and a quick trip to the roadhouse workshop and a date with a welder. Of course the day was not quite done dishing out a beating. The welder managed to crack one of the fuel lines; so instead of oil leaking everywhere I was now faced with a fuel leak. Managed to fix it all together again though with the use of some 'quiksteel' and a few cable ties. (the motorcycle riders wonder-gadget) So I was now all set to get back on the track.

Cracking!
Just glancing down at the km reading for that part of the trip, and I kid you not, the readout was 066 6 as I rolled into the roadhouse. Signs of satanic influence? Who can say? Me, I can reasonably imagine the staff of the roadhouse out with shovels in the dead of night, deepening the pothole some more.

Headed north the next day to Bramwell Junction, where after hearing a few motorcycle riding horror stories from the proprietor (why do people think you want to hear that stuff?), I started up the infamous Telegraph Track. Now unless you've actually seen the track, or been along it yourself, it will be impossible for you to get an accurate impression of what it was like. Hopefully some of the pictures will help, but basically just think of the worst sort of surface imaginable, drop a few bombs on it, flood it, add liberal buckets of thick mud, fell some trees across it and crack the route into an intricate network of bike swallowing crevices; and you may have a close approximation.

Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...

In short, worst sort of road to ride along imaginable, and therefore quite a lot of fun! Took a lot of concentrating, and was pretty much soaked through for the entire trip, as there are many, many creeks and rivers to cross.

Came off on one creek crossing after hitting a submerged log. Of course motorcycles don't really like lying down in thigh-deep water that much, so this caused a few problems. Wouldn't start in the water, so I had to get it to the opposite bank somehow. Unfortunately the bottom of the crossing was sand and mud, which refused to relinquish it's grip on the wheels. So the only option for getting to dry land was to lay the bike down in the water, and haul it forcibly round, first by the rear wheel, then the front, then the rear, ad infinitum.

Checking the depth of one of the water crossings
Once on some relatively firmer soil, but still in the water, I still had to push to the opposite bank. Words cannot describe how completely knackered I was at this point, as a water-soaked 180kg motorcycle is not the easiest object to manhandle through mud, sand and deep water. Luckily for me, just as I was about to commence pushing again, the support team rolled up!

I say support team, but it was in fact a group of two families I had met a few hours back along the track in their two 4x4s. Steve, Kerryn and Ashleigh, Robyn, Barry, Leanne and a little later also joined by Manny and Veronica. With a hand from this lot I was soon reunited with terra-firma, and could begin the task of getting all the water back on the outside of Gosling 1, and getting the engine back into working order.

All hands man the pumps!

Long story short, it took about four and a half hours of draining water, spraying WD40 over almost everything, and push starting up and down a small hill. The latter task was uncomplainingly undertaken by my new friends, for which I shall be ever grateful. It surely would have been an even longer and more odious task, had I been forced to do it alone.
Luckily for me, the bike finally fired back into life, albeit sounding a little unwell, and with cappuchino coloured engine oil (never a good sign).

Nolans Brook would be the final barrier before a turnoff onto a bypass road to join the ferry to cross the Jardine River. Unfortunately by the time I set off again, with the now officially official support team following a few KM behind, it had started to really belt it down with rain. I don't mean a light drizzle either, I mean headache inducing sized drops of rain and lots of 'em. This had the combined effects of a) making it very hard to see, and b) turning the track into thick sloppy mud.

Earth eats leg, hold the front page!

A precarious 30mins or so had me finally arriving at Nolans Brook, a very picturesque and rather annoyingly waist deep, wide 'brook'. According to the map there was an alternate log 'bridge', not recommended for heavy vehicles, and a quick glance around showed what I thought to be the ruins of said bridge, lying in the brook. So the only option for crossing was to push across the water with the engine off, as it was definitely too deep for riding.

Push ya scallywags!

Between the support crew and myself we managed to get safely across to the other side, although this second drenching had the effect of stopping the bike from starting on the other side. I decided to set up camp for the night, try and let Gosling 1 dry out a bit and then attempt to carry on in the morning. Bidding my new friends farewell (with the promise that they would check back in a day to make sure I had made it out), I set up camp, and they continued up along the track. Of course it was at this point that I spotted the fecking bridge! It had been hidden from the opposite bank by a fallen tree, har bloody har mother nature.

The 'this would've been useful last night' bridge

The rain continued to pelt down, with me collecting the water for drinking and at the same time trying to keep the bike dry. Perhaps half an hour after leaving, I spotted headlights coming towards my camp from the direction that the support crew had left in, lo and behold they had returned! Apparently a few km up the track, the track had pretty much disappeared, now being closer to an ocean than a track. So, not being able to get through they had resolved to return and set up camp for the night with me. By this point we had also been joined by another couple (busy day on the track this!), Ronaldo and Sue. So we had a very cosy night in a rather cramped and damp campsite.

I have to admit, that for all the misfortune of the day, it worked out very well in the end; and I ended up meeting some great people and even spending more time with them once we reached the 'tip'. An 'up' side to every 'down' and all that.

The next day the track had dried out sufficiently for us to continue on, and it was the work of about 45mins to get off the Telegraph Track and up to the Jardine River Ferry.

Spent a few days recuperating, drying out and generally enjoying the company of my new chums. Definitely worth the trip up, met some great people, and now know how to re-start a completely sodden Yamaha XT. Although with any luck, I shan't need to use that knowledge again any time soon.

Hurrah! Made it!
Am back down in Cairns now, just getting a few bits and pieces together; and of course doing another oil change just to be sure I've got all the water out. It's south from here on a wiggly route down the east coast. With any luck I'll be able to find time to get out onto the Great Barrier Reef too, can't get this close and not actually have a look. Will probably leave the bike on dry land for that one though.

Thanks again to the 'support team' and all the new friends I made along the route up to the 'tip'.

The ever handy, and now official 'support crew'

See you later!

Oh yes, I managed to get the whole 'falling off in the water' incident on video, so as soon as I have time and a decent internet connection, I shall upload it for all the world to chuckle at.

For now, more pics!

Desperate measures to combat the fly menace

It's a monster!

Crossing Cockatoo Creek

Aquatic antics

Cockatoo Creek on the Telegraph Track

The motley crew I met at Cockatoo Creek

Taking a well earned break at Eliot/Twin Falls

This one is for Stampy McStamperson

Couldn't find any horns though

My ugly and rather sweaty mug during one of the many crossings

More getting stuck on the Telegraph Track

End result of some backpackers driving too fast, I assumed the role of traffic police for this little incident

Correct attire for the Telegraph Track to Cape York

Bullshit, bulldust and...well, bulls...

2007-06-08T08:16:00.000+08:00

So it was with a heavy heart that I bade farewell to Darwin, I'm not sure who's heart it was but it certainly wasn't mine. I should probably look into giving that back at some point.

Kakadu National Park, green, very green.

I took a short trip into Kakadu National Park, because that is the done thing around these parts. A few waterfalls, some rock 'art' and a bit of bush camping later, and I was firmly back in the travelling groove. I have a hard time getting too excited about Aboriginal rock paintings, some are interesting, don't get me wrong, I just don't 'feel' it, if you catch my drift. I wonder if in years to come we will be touring round London underground stations, marvelling at the graffiti covered remains of the tube trains, wondering at who exactly Wayne and Tracy were, and what exactly it was that they 'did' there. Who can say?

Rock 'art'

Headed south from there down the highway to Mataranka, before breaking with the bitumen to head east on the 'Savannah Way', a mostly gravel, sand, water and dust track linking up with Queensland on the east coast. Certainly beat travelling via the highway at least, although the road-house at Roper Bar certainly knew how to take advantage of the location, by charging the most I've yet to pay for fuel in Australia.

Please deposit soul at counter before filling tank

A few encounters along the route with large (200m long or more) sections of the infamous Australian 'bull-dust', certainly served to keep the mind awake and the body aching.

Gosling One, lying down on the job

Of course me being me, I thought it would be quite nice to have a bit of a lie down half way through one patch of bull-dust, just to get the full effect. Trust me, the places I ended up with dust in you don't even want to hear about.

Orange is the new black for 2007, trust me

If you don't know what this bull-dust stuff is, just think about riding through knee deep icing sugar, only without the potential for making tasty cakes, and you'll pretty much get the picture.

In addition to the bull-dust, there were also plenty of bulls, cows, kangaroos and various other critters that were determined to make the best possible roadblock they could.

The immovable object meets Gosling One

All good fun, and despite their murderous intentions, I managed to make it to the lush and very, very green state of Queensland. Certainly quite a departure from the dry and dusty conditions in the Northern Territory, it's even been raining for the past couple of days, which actually makes for quite a refreshing change. First time in about four months that I've actually needed to break out the waterproof liners for the riding gear. Saves you getting wet from the rain, but you get just as wet from the sweat, so I'm not altogether convinced of the usefulness of said items at the moment.

Not having my bird book to hand, I shall hazard a guess and say Kookaburra, sheltering with me from the rain.

I have a couple of days in Cairns, catching up with emails, doing some much needed washing (a service to mankind at this point) and hopefully sorting out Gosling One with some nice new rubber; in preparation for the stint up to the top of Cape York.

Ever get the feeling you're being railroaded?

I'm on my feet, I'm on the floor, I'm good to go...

2007-05-29T10:04:00.000+08:00

..well, almost. I have returned triumphant from my visa renewal quest to Singapore and Malaysia, and have also unfortunately returned with a cold; courtesy of some smelly backpackers in Singapore.

The Eastern Heritage Guesthouse 4quid a night for a double room with balcony. Marvellous!
My time in Singapore was spent mostly in a state of constant technogasm; wandering around marvelling at the huge range of technological gadgets and gizmos on offer. I actually encountered a grandmother of perhaps 90 years on the subway, simultaneously talking on her cellphone, listening to an MP3 player, and playing a puzzle game on a PSP; I was most impressed. Of course it's quite possible that she was a bit senile and thought she was still at home, wondering why the telly was showing nothing but stuff about the subway.

Malaysia was the exact opposite of Singapore, and it's also spelled quite differently. I spent most of my time in a town called Malacca / Melaka, attempting to master the Malay language. Most of my attempts were met with the sort of looks usually reserved for somebody that had just jammed a set of chopsticks in the other persons nose, and drop-kicked their last rice-ball into the roadside gutter. So, in the end, I gave up and resorted to being the ignorant tourist; which seemed to please the locals much more than my mangling of the local dialect.

The Australian immigration department has seen fit to grant me an additional six months in Australia, which should be plenty of time to complete the grand loop-and-a-bit. Unfortunately I'm no longer allowed to do any work; I say unfortunately because my petrol fund currently contains a grand total of $3 and 27cents. This alarming lack of substance has mainly been caused by the last round of repairs, and of course my unscheduled trip abroad. Think I'll adopt the attitude of the ostrich to solve this problem, and bury my head in the sand. If I can't see it, it can't be happening.

Fuel woes aside, I am about as eager as a small child with a puppy and an espresso, to get back on the road, and more importantly away from Darwin. I'm sure that if nothing had gone wrong during my stay here, I would have formed a different opinion of the place. Unfortunately, lots of things went pear-shaped, and thus the place, and the grumpy ass majority of those that reside within it's boundaries, can go and swivel for all I care. Of course not everyone was a sad-sack, and I'm sure other people would get a different impression of the town; but the best view I will have, is of the town disappearing in my rear-view mirrors.

Vying for a job with the local tourist board I am not.

A tree frog attempting to make off with Gosling One

Malacca by night
Sundown from the balcony of my guesthouse
Malaysian pussy, yours for 2 tins of kite-kat
The German bikers, bikes finally arrived!
Arriving back in Darwin at 3:30AM to find Gosling One all safely tucked up
Wangi Falls in Litchfield National Park
Tobi and Renata, about to depart for the mechanics
Me testing Gosling One in Litchfield National Park

Trip cancelled due to romantic involvement...

2007-05-15T10:51:00.000+08:00

...

....

Hah, gotcha! Actually I'm departing Australia for Singapore in order to renew my visa. With any luck it will take a maximum of one week. Then I can return and get the hell out of Darwin, and on with the expedition.

Damn this town gets me down. OK I'm off to wallow in self pity in the corner.

Wired...

2007-05-08T08:09:00.000+08:00

...or not, as is the case here.

Well I'm still stuck in Darwin, sans-camera, and more importantly, sans-motorcycle!

After resolving the first issue of the missing nut, I discovered a new one. A fault in one of the wires buried deep within the ignition system, which was causing the starter motor to fire constantly, even when the engine was running. This resulted in an annoying whining noise being emitted from the bike, and more worryingly the potential of a burnt out starter. Luckily I managed to limp round to the local bike place here in Darwin, where the problem was quickly diagnosed.

However, as usually happens with me and problems, it happened at the start of a three day weekend; hence my current status of being 'stuck' in Darwin. With any luck I should be picking up Gosling 1 today (tuesday) at some point, so I'll be able to stave off the onset of cabin fever, and my growing desire to mow down the entire population of the town with a large machine gun.

To keep myself entertained I've trawled through my pictures to find a few more to post, which appear at the bottom of this text. Just a tip for any travellers arriving in Darwin: Don't stay at the 'Leprechaun Inn / Caravan Park' on the Stuart Highway. It's run by the most petty, small minded, self important and jumped up little Hitlers that I've ever had the misfortune to come across. There, my civic duty is done, consider yourselves warned.

Being stuck has meant that I've had a bit more time with the friends I made over in Broome, who recently arrived in Darwin; and I've also met two German couples, travelling from Germany to Australia over the course of a couple of years. They too are stuck without their bikes, as they are somewhere incarcerated within the bowels of a container ship, on their way here. A problem shared is a problem halved and all that!

Landcruiser in need of some 'TLC'

The bike is a photographer as well as a mode of transport

Camping in Shothole Canyon (don't tell anyone, it's not permitted!)

Keeping clean

Night time bugs in a spotlight at El Questro Station on the Gibb River Road

Pilbara Iron train, 2km long!

Unfair competition for the local supply of fish

Guess which side fork seal was leaking?

Pelican at Monkey Mia

The kids thought losing the 4x4 was a great laugh

NOT crossing the Pentecost River on the Gibb River Road

Just to remind y'all it's not a bloody holiday! :-)

Shothole Canyon

Das Bike...

2007-04-30T09:04:00.000+08:00

A quick statistical rundown for you:

Wheels left on bike: 2 (Excellent)

Freshwater crocodile sightings: 7 (Good)

Saltwater crocodile sightings: 1 (Good)

Fingers remaining: 10 (Excellent)

Toes remaining: 10 (Great!)

Arms remaining: 2 (Spot on)

Legs remaining: 3 (Fnaar!)

Max number of rivers crossed in one day: 9 (Damp)

Number of rivers I dropped the bike into: 0 (Mad skillz!)

Number of working cameras in posses ion: 0 (Not photogenic)

After soaking up the tropical atmosphere of Broome for a few days, and kitting the bike out with a few bits and pieces (front sprocket, rear tyre and an oil change); it was time to get cracking on the Gibb River Road. "Oh no you bloody well don't!", cried the forces that were beyond my control. Turned out that due to a very wet last fortnight of the rainy season, a big chunk of the track was (and still is) closed. A big washout along the track, rivers running high and a closed roadhouse (read: no fuel), meant the only way to get along said track would be to overdose on Red Bull and grow wings.

Nadgers

Not being able to afford enough Red Bull, I decided to go around instead. This detour did mean that I got to experience the fun track into the Bungle Bungles National Park. The 50km long track into the park took about three hours to traverse, taking in all manner of hazards; including various river crossings. A chap watching me cross the 'Frank River' on the way in, managed to capture it on video, so hopefully I'll be able to upload that at some point!. It went surprisingly well, with Gosling 1 proving she has a submarine somewhere in her genetic makeup.

Getting out of the park didn't go quite as smoothly as going in, but I managed to make it with no major dramas. I only had to go with my emergency plan of "open the throttle and hope I fall off on dry land" once, and even then we managed to stay upright. Safely on the opposite bank I let the engine steam itself dry, as I emptied the rather concerned looking fish out of my boots. That's one of the problems with waterproof riding boots; they're fine as long as you don't have water up to your armpits, then they just tend to collect the damn stuff!

Squelched back onto the bike, and rode the final few kms out of the park feeling as though I'd conquered the world. (Which is next on my list, so watch it)

So I'm currently in Darwin having a bit of a break from the road, and waiting for a part for the bike to come in. The nut that holds the front sprocket has disappeared somewhere along the way, I blame the knobber that put the new front sprocket on. Methinks I should've checked his handywork more closely, but I was busy battling with the rear wheel at the time. Long story short, the only thing holding the front sprocket on, was the tension in the chain and a whole lotta luck.

Will get that one sorted out asap. and I'll do it myself this time! Not too many pictures this time as my camera is buggered (official technical term used by the bloke in the camera shop), so these were the ones I could salvage.

The mighty, sloshing Pentecost River at the end of the Gibb River Road

Watching some other people crossing the 'Frank River', this is the shallow bit.

Can't be bothered making a track? Use a river bed instead!

Holy flaming scenery Batman!

A Water Monitor - His job is to make sure you don't waste water

Part of the Gibb River Road that wasn't actually under water

Taking advantage of the free shower facilities

Champagne Falls near El Questro Station on the Gibb River Road

Shock and ore...

2007-04-17T08:34:00.000+08:00

...iron ore that is.

Sorry, been spending a lot of time in iron mining country and it's starting to affect my mind, as well as the colour of the bike and everything else I have with me. Everything has gone an interesting Tango orange. It's the new black, trust me!

So, first post since the essential two week petrol/work break, and it's good to be back on the road again. My backside thinks differently however, the bike saddle certainly hasn't got any comfier while it has been off the road.

Put the bike back together and remarkably it all worked pretty much first time, nothing bounced off back down the highway as I set off from Perth at least; which I took to be a good omen. Sticking fairly close to the west coast it is pretty much the same monotonous landscape, all the way up to Exmouth. There were a few exceptions such as the Pinnacles, Shark Bay etc, but mostly it was beach after beach after beach, paradise you would think? I'm not much of a 'beach person' to be honest, as I think I mentioned before; so I found myself getting a bit fed up with all the bloody beaches after a while. Never get bored with the scantily clad young ladies you tend to find populating beaches though, so there is an upside to everything!

The Pinnacles Desert, very pointy

Called in to see the 'famous' Dolphins at Monkey Mia, as it is apparently against the law drive past without stopping; judging by the visitor numbers at least.

While I was in the area I thought I'd bury the bike in the sand, to see if it made a good castle substitute. Decided not, as it doesn't have the requisite number of turrets to be a proper castle.

Hello China? Little help please...

This was the point I gave up in my attempt to reach 'Steep Point' (the most westerly point on mainland Oz). Loads of suitable excuses, but the best one is that it was the Easter holidays at the time, and all the passing 4x4s had churned the track into 30km of deep, deep sand. After getting stuck for the first three times, I decided my sanity deserved a break and I turned around. Good job too actually, as it started chucking it down with rain soon after. I'll be back to conquer that bit later though!

Exmouth and the road leading to it (there is only one), are in a ludicrously harsh and unforgiving section of the 'Pilbara' region of Australia. Similar landscape to that of the Nullarbour Desert actually, only with fewer trees. (if that is actually possible!) Aggressive heat, no trees at all and very limited water availability, meant it all got a little bit poetic on the ride north.

'Ode to a tree, by me':

If I could but see one more tree

I swear t'would fill my heart with glee
For 'neath majestic, shady bough
I would not sweat so, from my brow

Cook my brain, and it starts to come out with poetry. I think I need to get out of the heat more!

Exmouth is THE place to go swimming with Whale Sharks, or as the locals know them 'cash cows of the sea'. Everyone is in on the act, and all claim to be the 'world experts' on said beasties. Decided to take their words for it, as my budget definitely didn't stretch to the $400 for a 10 minute snifter. I contented myself with snorkeling on Ningaloo Reef and lurking at one of the more interesting beaches in the region.

I could warm up to some of these beaches, really I could

From there I headed inland to the Karijini National Park, and the town of Tom Price. Iron ore mining country, complete with some fairly spectacular (and thankfully shady) gorges. Some of them even had trees, hooray! Grabbed a permit from the local mining company to ride up the 350km of their rail service road, as an interesting alternative to the highway. It was good fun as the track ran right alongside the railway, which was constantly in action. 2km long iron transport trains thundering along, with me riding alongside. Adrenaline charged stuff!

Have paused for a moment in Broome to get the bike a few presents, things like a new tyre and an oil change as she's been so well behaved recently. Might treat myself to a shower too. (Australia breathes a sigh of relief)

Lots of pictures below. Click on any of them for a bigger version.

Hooray for water!

Bike plus pointy thingies

Dolphin at Monkey Mia

Just call me 'Action Man'

The consequences of not paying attention on the 'Pilbara Iron' access road, that used to be a Landcruiser

Stingray at Monkey Mia

Useful for a rest those pointy bits in the Pinnacles

My camp at dawn (DAWN, that's bloody early that is!) on the way to Tom Price

Trip mascot at 'Natures Window'

There are some BIG things out here on Australian roads

Sundown at Shark Bay

The 'Sandfire Roadhouse' living up to the 'fire' part of the name

Recovering Gosling One from the clutches of the sand

Shothole Canyon on the route up to Exmouth

Should have packed a bucket and spade really

Splashy splashy

Shovelhead Ray at Monkey Mia. This fellow accompanied me down the beach for about 45mins

Approaching 'Steep Point' in Western Australia

Campsite before setting off for 'Steep Point' (not in the water obviously)

Tally ho, chocks away etc etc.

2007-04-02T15:37:00.000+08:00

Right then! Gosling One is all put back together, and rather remarkably still resembles a motorcycle. Fuel fund is topped up a bit, so hopefully it'll last me all the way round the rest of Australia. Food is packed in the panniers, although I can't say I'm looking forward to pasta meals again for the next few months, I miss fresh veg! I am looking forward to instant mash though, that stuff is truly the food of gods, and lazy motorcyclists.

Heading up north from Perth, hugging the coast to Exmouth, then East towards Darwin, along the Gibb River Road. (aka 700km of dust, corrugations, rocks, potholes and river crossings - waterwings on standby!)

Keep your peepers peeled for the next update!

If it aint broke, fix it until it is...

2007-03-22T10:44:00.000+09:00

So I've been spending the last week or so splitting my time between working to top up the petrol fund, and working on the bike to get all the niggles sorted out. Despite the fact that I didn't have much of a clue about working on the bike; a bit of common sense, a downloaded workshop manual (in Spanish mind you) and a large lump hammer saw me through.

Had a bit of occasional help from a fellow that knew his way around an engine though, so that helped head off any major dramas. Nothing like pulling apart the front suspension, and having the probably very vital parts spring out of the fork and roll under a car. Cue lots of swearing and grovelling under said vehicle.

All in all though, it went pretty well. No bits left over when I stuck it all back together either, which is always a good sign I reckon.

I managed to stick together a quick website for www.arseaboutface.com With any luck it'll help persuade people that visit to donate, and that I'm not faking it all. I also took the plunge and made a little introductory video. Not very good in front of a camera, but I decided as it was for charity I would make the effort, even if I did feel a total gooseberry.

Check it out at www.arseaboutface.com (click on the cinema ticket) I put it up on YouTube as I figured there were a hell of a lot of people using that site, and if even only a couple of them watched it and decided it donate, it'd be a good thing.

So spread the word oh yea faithful few readers!

Updates from the road will be coming soon, once I'm back on the road (or non-road as the case may be) of course.

Australia, now with dual-cyclone power!

2007-03-09T14:29:00.000+09:00

Never worry about emptying your dustbag ever again with the new model of Australia, with 'Dual Cyclone Power!'. Most probably because your dustbag, hoover, living room and entire house have been blown away.

Yes that's right folks, the northern end of Western Australia, and most of the Northern Territory is currently getting the stuffing kicked out of it by cyclone 'George' and cyclone 'Jacob'. The gruesome twosome are having a ball up there, wrecking towns, smashing up ships, upsetting peoples hair and generally doing cyclonic things. (That Dyson bloke has a lot to answer for)

Luckily for me, I'm enjoying a serendipitous pit-stop in Perth. (That's at the southern end of Western Australia) I'm pretty much back where I started before I embarked on this adventure, once again staying with friends in Armadale just south of Perth city centre.

I'll be here for a couple of weeks I should imagine, for three main reason (and now the added fourth of there being cyclones in the way of my expedition. Bloody nature!)

Reason one: Bike don't go nowhere without fuel; and the money in my fuel account has gone. Erm...into the fuel tank (and possibly on a few pies). So I've stopped to do some work to top that up a bit.

Reason two: Bike also don't go nowhere if it falls apart. I'll be taking this opportunity to fix a few minor problems that have cropped up with the mechanical workings, and generally do a full on service. Things like adding 'barkbusters' to protect the levers in case I drop the bike; not that I'll be doing that of course. Along with other things like sorting out valve clearances, changing the oil and replacing the 'cush drives'. (which are apparently not a bad 80's cover band as I originally thought) Can't say I know for certain how to do everything that needs doing, but I've got half an instruction manual and a set of spanners; what could possibly go wrong?

Reason three: It's still too wet up north at the moment, and many of the tracks I plan to take are still under water. A week or so more and it should be dry enough to proceed up north, sans-waterwings.

Reason four: Big, big, swirly, whooshing things. (See map above)

So once all those 'reasons' have been sorted out, I shall be continuing up the western coast of Australia and round, over the top and on!

The trip around the south-western section of Western Australia was fairly uneventful. In fact there isn't really that much to write about at the moment. There were some fairly nice towns I stopped in, places like Margaret River. I'm sure you could have a fantastic time there if you liked drinking wine, were there for a week and had a stack of cash. As I fulfilled none of those three criteria, I didn't really find much reason to linger in most of the towns.

Just off the bike, hot, sweaty, smelly and with hair to make a scarecrow blush. It's a wonder I don't get swamped by hoards of gorgeous women more often really.

Once again ended up in some nice camping spots, mostly scattered throughout the National Parks that were conveniently placed on my route. Got lost for about two hours in the 'Leeuwin Naturaliste' National Park. Bounced around on a sandy track for most of that time, only to realise it took me on a big loop back round to where I'd started. Where I discovered that a car had parked across the sign which pointed me in the direction of the campsite. Turned out the site was all of five minutes from the main track. Curses! Still, I got to see most of the national park at least.

Lost? Moi?! Why yes, actually...

That's about it for now. Coming soon (with any luck), will be an actual front-page to www.arseaboutface.com. Hopefully it'll lend a bit of credibility to my fund-raising efforts, and get some more donations rolling in. Also coming soon (I swear!), is a proper photo gallery with a nice big selection of photos.

Watch this space. {------} <----That space right there, go on watch it...I dare you.

A smattering of pictures for you:

The Albany Wind Farm. Pretty and also environmentally friendly.

The worst road surface in the world; like trying to ride on marbles. At least I imagine that's what it's like, not ever having ridden on marbles.

I'm not usually in a position to criticise someone else's mangling of the English language, but this one was special. I love a distinguished fire me.

Desert? I'd rather have a dessert thanks very much...

2007-02-20T11:48:00.000+09:00

I've come to the conclusion that there isn't a great deal of point to writing a great long post about crossing the Nullarbor Desert, because, well... there isn't that much to write about. It's long, VERY long, and also incredibly dull.

(You can click any of the pictures for a bigger version, supposidly)

I got myself suitably energised before setting off on day one however:

Mmmm, caffeine. Let's go, time to goo, woo...

Which generally led to most of the first day being a caffeine induced bender, something akin to playing a video game, only without the comfy chair and cup of tea.

There were a few opportunities to get off the highway and view a few sights, such as the Great Australian Bight. Or as I have now come to know it, the 'Great Australian Blight' (of flies). I also got the chance to play stormtrooper in the desert at the ruins of the Eucla Telegraph Station:

These aren't the droids you're looking for...

At a place called 'Belladonia' there was a dotted line marked as 4WD only, which cut across the 'Arid National Park', and down towards Esperance. This effectively was an alternative route to my destination. Being 1WD I figured I could probably make it. Standing up on the footpegs after sitting down for the last 1200KM was certainly a welcome relief!

Yes, something rattled itself off, no it wasn't serious. :D

The 'Belladonia Track'

Just east of Belladonia is the 2nd longest straight stretch of road in the world, or something like that. Not that you'd notice, it's just like the rest of the highway. Although, just my luck...roadworks! On the longest bit of straight road, it appeared to me as though they were installing a corner, just for a bit of laugh.

Longest straight bit of tarmac I ever want to see

Installing a corner, just for shits 'n giggles...

Mind numbing, arse numbing and a lot of other numbings to boot. That about sums up the journey really. Still, I'm back in Western Australia baby. Woo!

Extra piccies from the first couple of days:

My camping buddy for day one on the road

Lawrence of Arabia ain't got nothin' on me...

My kingdom for a physio...

2007-02-19T14:37:00.000+09:00

Quick, call me a physiotherapist!

First person to leave a comment reading "You're a physiotherapist" gets a slap if I'm ever actually able to raise my arms again. :)

Just a quick one this time to report a successful traverse of the umpteen-million-squillion kilometres that is the Eyre Highway. Once again I am unable to upload pictures at the moment, as they have apparently only just discovered the wheel here in Esperance. But rest assured they are on the way!

I'm currently stuck with walking a bit like John Wayne as pretty much everything aches. Especially the posterior. Battling silly winds, immense trucks (and truckers) and various other unpleasant things, left the old body a tad worn out.

Thanks to all that have donated so far. It all goes straight to MSF, so don't think I'm running around spending it all on pies or anything like that.

I'm off for a bit of a lie down...

Give me your money, or else...

2007-02-09T10:44:00.000+09:00

... you'll probably spend it on something you don't really need anyway. Actually it's not me that's after it, it's MSF or Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders, to my American friends)

I'm about to cross the Nullarbour Desert over to Perth, and I realised it would be a shame not use the Perth to Perth, complete loop of Australia to try and do some good. So if you can spare any cash then please feel free to use the donation facility located at www.justgiving.com/arseaboutface, or the one on the right hand side of this site. Big hugs to everyone that manages to donate. Don't feel any pressure though, just because I'm out here going 35-40,000km round Australia while you're all tucked up and cosy in front of the telly, no pressure, no pressure at all.... :-P

The main update is below, written while I was still in Tasmania. It's got lots of pictures, so for those with a short attention span, you shouldn't get too bored.

I'm now in a place called Port Pirie just north of Adelaide, preparing to cross the Nullarbour Desert. On the route over here (mostly where I had already been after heading west initially), I managed to dip into the northern end of the Grampians National Park again, which was great.

The Grampians National Park again.

I also managed to link up with the people I spent the Christmas period with on Kangaroo Island, so this is just a quick message to them. Steve, Dave, Debs and Lexley thanks once again for all your help and hospitality, I'll be back when something else falls off the bike!

Dave was kind enough to assist me in servicing Gosling One, he also happens to have a rather spectacular garage full of shiny, shiny crotch rockets.

Clearly my bike is the most stylish and expensive :-D

That's about it for now. I'll be going 'Mad Max' for a bit while I cross the desert to Perth, but with any luck I'll be able to avoid the Toecutter and the rest of his daggy gang mates.

A devil of a tale...

2007-01-28T08:30:00.000+09:00

Three weeks round Tasmania and only a single blog update, all my loyal readers (all three of you) have my heartfelt apologies. Although in my defence, internet access over here costs a kings ransom, and I had an expensive couple of days to begin with.

Allow me to elaborate...

As soon as I rolled off the ferry, I rolled straight into (not literally) the local Yamaha dealership in order to get the drive chain replaced on Gosling One.

Ahhhh, sparks! Get that man away from my beloved bike.

The original was doing a passable impression of an elastic band, stretching... a lot. So to head off a snapped important thing, I erred on the side of caution and got the pros to sort it out.

No sooner had I set off with my shiny new chain, than the fork seals on the front suspension decided to blow. For the non-technical like myself, that meant that what should be inside to forks started to come out, leading to a very rough and bouncy return trip to Devonport. An enforced stop over for a couple of days saw that little problem set right, and I was finally able to get under way properly, albeit with a substantially lighter wallet.

So, not to go into too much detail (because people would get bored and wander off), I did a big anticlockwise loop around Tasmania, almost a microcosm of my trip-to-be around Australia. Starting with the North and West coasts, I headed south to the most southerly navigable road in Australia (next stop Antarctica), up the east coast and then back through the middle to Devonport again.

Found some great out of the way camping spots, and also some fairly hair-raising 4WD tracks that tested my new suspension to the limit. I fell foul of the local wildlife at one of my camps on the west coast, with something furry making off with one of my sandals in the night. I'd like to think it was a Tasmanian Devil that needed to use it for surfing or somesuch thing. Makes me look a right gooseberry hopping round the beach on one sandal though.

Medic! My trousers are on fire.

One such route was the interestingly named 'Crabtree Track', just down south of Cradle Mountain near a place called New Norfolk. You would have though the sign at the start of the route stating that it was a track for 4WD vehicles during dry weather only, would have put me off. But not me, I laugh in the face of such warning signs...also I'm a bit of an idiot.

I like mud, me. Good for the skin.

Where the route was level it was fairly easy to weave in and out of the ruts and around the larger boulders. Where it got a bit more interesting was the ascent up the side of a mountain (and I'm talking steep), where the weight on the back of the back actually probably helped; and the descent down said mountain, where the weight on the back definitely did not help at all!

For correct operating procedure, please return to upright position

The track leading down was washed out by rain water, strewn with really rather large boulders and edged with slippery gravel and smaller rocks. This led to a slow and teeth clenched descent in first gear, with the rear wheel locking up most of the time as I tried to stop the bike running away down the hill. Of course, inevitably it went wrong. Although just the once! A bout of swearing, a few bruises and one hell of a workout picking up the bike on that slope later, and I was out! Felt rather chuffed with myself I must admit.

On checking the odometer whilst gathering my shattered nerves together at the bottom, it turned out I had covered about 24km in about 2 hours! Definitely an interesting, if not speedy route to take.

Feeling pleased with myself I took a bath in the River Mersey as I was passing.

Lather, rinse repeat.

Just try doing that in the UK version of the same river, you'd probably bounce off the surface.

So, during my time in Tasmania I checked out all the standard tourist type attractions, including the famous Cradle Mountain. I have to admit that it registered as a "Meh!" on the 'awe-inspirement scale', as did the 'Bay of Fires'. I found the west coast, with it's lack of specific attractions far more interesting and a lot more rugged.

Met some great people along the way, including my new friends Ramon and Merel. Big 'shout out' to them if they happen by and read this, we had a nice little trek out to visit 'Wineglass Bay' on the Freycinet Peninsula. If you can read Dutch, check out their blog at: http://members.home.nl/ramonbeschi

Apparantly I look like a 'dirty stormtrooper' Pretty close I reckon.

Nice view eh? The one behind us isn't bad either. (Wineglass bay)

I also met my first live snake since being in Australia. Which to date makes three, count em three in total. All were Tiger snakes, so named because they can scare the bejesus out of tigers, they're that 'ard. Not really, but apparently they're ludicrously poisonous, and not at all scared of me it would seem.

Snake, snake ooooh it's a snake. (No badgers though, I think the snake ate them all)

I'd also like to mention that in true Australia summer behaviour, it snowed yesterday for about 15mins as I was riding back towards Devonport via the Central Plateux region. Seriously, it was so cold i've only just today started to get some feeling back in my fingers. Nothing like a bit of variety to keep you on your toes!

Jumping on the ferry tonight back to Melbourne, then it's west for me, over towards Adelaide, the Nullarbour Desert and Perth.

So, to sum up my time in Tasmania I present a little selections of images, as I've probably written enough for now. (anyone still reading this?)

Enjoy! (No sniggering at the back)

Warning signs? Pah! I laugh in the face of warning signs!

Look at me, look at me! Vrooom, crunch!

Taking a break at Lake St Claire, Tasmania

Wildlife, thieving bastards the lot of 'em.

The Gordon Dam, bloody high up and also bloody windy. (Not the dam itself of course, but the area in general)

He said "let there be stodge", and there was stodge...

2007-01-02T13:09:00.000+09:00

And lo, the traveller did combine the hallowed elements... two minute noodles with a cup-a-soup, and there was much revulsion.

What hideous globular mass had the creator spawned? He gazed upon the creature with much distaste, and did cast it out unto oblivion.

Hastily did the creator harken unto the promised land of milk, honey and Subway sandwiches. And there was much feasting.

Here endeth the lesson.

So 2006 passed peacfully into 2007, look there it goes you can see it:

2006 - 2007 transition, as seen from my campsite

Hope everyone had a fantastic New Year, I spent it (as tradition dictates), in the middle of nowhere. Not a soul around, just me and some pelicans and they wern't in much of a party mood.

Back on the road now, headed for the ports of Melbourne and the boat to Tasmania. A twelve hour sailing should see me safely on the island state, and my next update will be from there.

Just a few pics of where I spent the last few days:

That'd be the end of the road then, best find another route...

Crossing the Murry River by a much more sensible method

What do you get if you cross a duck and a cat?

2006-12-29T12:56:00.000+09:00

A duck filled fattypuss! Ahah ha, I crack myself up. But seriously, Duck Billed Platypus (platypusses, platypi, whatever), they're cool and I've seen one. Add to that the Echidna I saw a few days back and I've chalked up two of the worlds five monotremes (that's egg laying mammals to you normal people), now to find the other three...

Echidna, like a hedgehog on a really bad hair day.

Anyway enough of my prodigious wildlife spotting abilities. Seasons greetings from Penneshaw on Kangaroo Island, or as I have come to know it 'Corrugation Island', due to the state of the unpaved roads. Talk about turn your bones to jelly...

A funny thing happened to me on the way to the island... There I was waiting for the ferry at Cape Jervis when I got talking to a bunch of people that had just arrived on a Cagiva and another Yamaha. Thoroughly bloody nice bunch, and to cut a long story short I ended up spending xmas day at their place on Kangaroo Island. Nice bunch this biking lot eh?

On the ferry across the 'backstairs passage'

Kangaroo Island has just the one paved road, which runs in a continuous loop around the island taking in most of the major attractions. It's somewhat like a kangaroo based Jurassic Park. All the tour buses are practically on rails, dropping off hoards of people at all the notable points, only to swallow them up again an hour or so later. Needless to say I didn't spend a lot of time on said road, choosing the more jarring experience of the extensive network of gravel, rock and sand roads. Much more interesting, and a good old learning experience to boot.

Anyone would think I knew what I was doing...good job you can't see my expression

Ended up in some great secluded locations, mainly on the coast (hence the plethora of beach-based photos). I also spent quite a bit of time in the Flinders Chase National Park, where I went hunting for the elusive Duck Billed Platypus, amongst other wild creatures. From my time in the park and on the island in general, I have been able to learn three valuable things about the wildlife here:

1) The young of the Echidna are called 'Puggles' which, quite frankly is bloody fantastic.

2) Your average Duck Billed Platypus will surface for slightly less time than it takes for a Sony digital camera to switch on, zoom in and focus. Which is rather infuriating, and led to many 'Nessie!' style blurry photos of said beastie.

3) The isolation of living on this island has driven all the Kangaroos to suicide, and they will attempt to end their lives as often as possible in front of a moving vehicle. Usually when you least expect it and conveniently timed to cause maximum swearing.

Look look a platypus! (honest to god, click it for a bigger version)

Best camping spot would have to be West Bay, funnily enough on the far western shores. Marvellously secluded and a fantastic beach to boot, and it takes a lot to impress me when it comes to beaches. Coming a close second is the Cape Gantheaume Wilderness area on the south eastern edge, although the road leading there leaves quite a lot to be desired. I'm sure I have a photo around here somewhere, ah yes...

Good scenery, roads an 'experience'

As for West Bay, check it out:

You can usually count on mother nature for a good show at bedtime

So I'm scheduled to leave tomorrow (30th), and will have to decide where to go from there. After talking it through with a few people and reading up a bit more, I have decided to save the 'Ooodnadatta Track' and the 'Great Central Road' for a bit later on in my trip. Mainly because now (Jan - Mar) is the hottest time of year in the middle, and I mean melt-your-tyres hot, not just "ooh that's a bit warm". That fact combined with Gosling One only being air-cooled (and me too come to think of it), and I have decided to delay that section to the 'shoulder season' when temperatures should be slightly less mechanically destructive.

However, that means I have a bit more time to bimble round the southern regions of Australia before heading west, so I feel a trip to Tasmania coming on. Not only is it VERY south, it'll also mean I'll be biking round every state in Australia. Score!

Now for some pictures (click any of them throughout this post for bigger versions):

Cape Willoughby on Kangaroo Island, windy as a windy thing heralding from a windy land

Another from Cape Willoughby, this time with the interesting view obscured by a helmet

Yours truly, also like a hedgehog on a very bad hair day
(curse this not-cutting-my-hair resolution!)

More updates to come, but for now Happy New Year to all! See you in 2007.

There's a Beyonce in my helmet...

2006-12-21T13:43:00.000+09:00

Shame she's not real though. Not much worse than having a tune you don't know the words to stuck in your head while riding a motorbike. Heavens knows why Beyonce was in there... well I'm sure there were a few reasons, but they probably wern't musical.

No pictures this time round as it's just a short one to wish everybody that happens along this blog a very happy festive season. I'm heading down towards 'Kangaroo Island' for xmas and probably new year as well, so it's unlikely I'll be able to do a proper update until after I get back. Will hopefully have some good photos by then though.

Bike is running well, coping with the heat (a mere 38deg yesterday) much better than I. Riding isn't so bad as long as you keep moving, prepare to sweat buckets when it comes to putting up a tent though.

Sand on the tracks, and other such excuses...

2006-12-16T11:23:00.000+09:00

My blog updates are a bit like buses, you wait around for ages then a really long wordy one comes along...ok, so they're not like buses at all really.

Finally boarded the 'Indian Pacific' or as I like to refer to it, the 'bottom torture express'. It was functional for the most part but certainly lacking a bit in the comfort and service departments, especially considering that it was mainly aimed at tourists. The food and drink sucked, the toilets broke down on the second morning, but it was definitely an experience! The only saving graces were the people I met aboard and the chance to see the scenery of the Nullarbor Desert from an air-conditioned box.

After two days of awe-inspiringly bad coffee we finally reached Adelaide, where I had to disembark as the 'Overland' service from Adelaide to Melbourne wasn't leaving until the next morning. A day seeing the sites, a night in a backpackers hostel and I was off on another train for twelve hours. Met some more great people aboard the 'Overland' service, which once again relieved the monotony nicely.

Arrived in Melbourne not a moment too soon, as I was about to go stark-raving bonkers and kill everyone aboard in a Nescafe induced frenzy. Melbourne hadn't changed one jot since I last visited, so I won't be writing anything about it. However I cannot stress enough the bizarre atmosphere produced by every store in a high-street of thousands each playing it's own selection of Christmas carols, in temperatures exceeding 36 deg centigrade. My idea of hell.

Jumped on the next train out to Castlemaine (one hour north), where I was finally presented with this:

'Gosling One' (watch Mad Max, you'll understand)

"Fan-bleeding marvellous", I said to myself, as I often do. Time to get on with this adventure malarky. It took about 60 seconds of riding for me to decide I'd packed waaay too much, and would certainly try and get rid of some of it as soon as possible.

Certainly looks the part, but hasn't really got a bloody clue.

So I headed south from Melbourne down towards the 'Great Ocean Road' and the southern coast. A nice ride around the twisty bends of the coastal arteries was a handy introduction back into riding again, however that didn't stop me dropping it once in a car park after misjudging a turn at low speed. (although we'll keep that one to ourselves eh?)

Roads in the Grampians come in 3 flavours: gravel, sand and sand covered gravel

Headed up into the Grampians National Park for my first taste of 'off-road' riding. Certainly an eye opener, but good fun once you get the hang of it. Two more droppages in the sand reinforced my belief that I really REALLY had packed too much. Seriously, this thing weighs a ton. A fact only exacerbated when it is lying on it's side in a pile of gravel and sand. Still, lesson learned!

Plenty of closed roads to choose from in the Grampians, mainly due to fire damage, be nice if they put the closure signs at the start of the road rather than half-way down them though. I also encountered a bunch of Australian bikers out for a tour in the Park, nice fellows, some flashy machines too. I was making a nuisance of myself by parking up in the middle of the track, so they stopped to take the piss out of the England cricket team. Fair enough really I thought.

Spent an interesting couple of nights camping out in the mountains of the Grampians, letting my imagination run-wild about what horrendous beasties could be making all that noise in the middle of the night. I also started one morning (or not started, depending on your point of view) with a flat battery. Could find no reason for it at all, so I just hoped it was a temporary occurrence. I spent the next 45mins puffing and panting my way up and down a couple of hills in an eventually successful attempt to bump-start the bike.

So, not going into too much detail (as this is costing a fortune in internet fees), I now find myself in a town called Mount Gambier. I came here for one reason mainly, which was to look at a long-range fuel tank a fellow had for sale. I had a look, it would do the job, so I bought it. (thanks ma and pa for the early xmas prezzie!) This has upped the fuel range of Gosling 1 quite considerably, and I now have one less thing to worry about when touring in the outback.

I even managed to fit the thing myself, with a few bits of free fuel hose from the local bike shop in Mount Gambier. Honestly, I have evidence:

Step 1: Take standard Yamaha XT600E, and attack with all available tools.

Step 2 : Wonder what the hell you've let yourself in for.

Step 3: Pretend you knew it was all going to turn out fine.

Step 4: Make like a cheesy poser

So that all went well until I discovered that my temporary battery troubles in the Grampians had turned out to be not so temporary after all. After lugging said battery round to the local Yamaha shop it turns out it is indeed at fault, a cracked cell or something similar was the diagnosis. The result is $60 for a new one, and an enforced stop over in Mount Gambier until Tuesday morning, as that is the only time I'll be able to pick up the fully charged new battery.

See that, that's not supposed to be a big hole that isn't.

Wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't exhausted the entertainment capabilities of the town in the first four hours after arrival.

Thomas the tanked up engine...

2006-11-25T08:46:00.000+08:00

Edit: OK, slight delay in execution of my plan to depart Perth. Erm...the train was full. Who would've thought? So the below post still applies, it'll just be one sunday later than originally planned.

Just a short update this one as there isn't a lot to write about. Will hopefully be boarding the 'Indian Pacific' service from Perth tomorrow. 2659km and three nights later I will arrive in Adelaide and swap the 'Indian Pacific' for the shorter run of 'The Overland' service, a mere 828km to Melbourne. Bottom numbing stuff!

Once in Melbourne I will finally be united with the bike and I can get on my way and start providing a mobile buffet for all the flies in Australia. Seriously you can't stand still for more than a few seconds without a gaggle of flies making a 'bee-line' (aha!) for your ears, eyes and nose. I think I'll just take to wearing the bike helmet everywhere. Might get a few strange looks down the beach though.

Big brother is probably not watching...

2006-10-30T16:10:00.000+08:00

There is now a Google map down on the right hand side under the 'profile' section. Quite neat, you can zoom in and out to see where I am at the moment. Tweaking it gave me a headache so I'm not doing anything else to it. :-D

For those that want to know exactly, I am here: South: 32deg 11'07.3 East 116deg 03'16.4

I'll go outside from time to time and moon the satellites to see how often they update their photos.

Go go gadget cartographer!

2006-10-24T16:53:00.000+08:00

Click here for a bigger version

That, dear friends is what we in the business call 'bloody stupid', but I'm doing it anyway. That should hopefully give those that are interested a general outline of the route I shall shortly be embarking on (honest!) The only 'iffy' bits are the Cape York area, which is outlined as the toughest 4x4 track in Australia and involves many, many river crossings, the Gibb River Road and the Great Central Road as the distance between fuel stops may be stretching the bikes capacity somewhat. Still, there's only one way to find out! Of course it's not set in stone and I'm sure there will be alterations to the route as I travel around.

Work here in Perth is rapidly nearing completion and the final items of kit have just arrived in the post.
Gadgets! Gotta love em.

Exhibit A - A handy little GPS system:

Exhibit B - An EPIRB (or PLB)

Hopefully I'll never have to use the EPIRB (Emergency Position-Indicating Radio Beacon), but it's good to be prepared for any eventuality. Plus of course it's another outdoorsie-type gadget, and you can never have enough of those.

I've decided to try and catch the train from Perth over to Melbourne via Adelaide, it'll be an interesting trip and it's only slightly more expensive than getting a direct flight. It does mean sitting in a train for about four days, but if nothing else it can be training (har har) for the buttocks in preparation for spending umpteen months in the saddle. I've also decided not to cut my hair as a scientific and social experiment, nothing to do with laziness honest. It will also answer the question that has been plaguing the minds of scholars everywhere across the globe...How much of a muppet will I look with long hair?

Also on this trip I will probably be addressing these important questions:

How long can you wear one pair of socks before they become self-aware?
Just what does a didgeri do? (aha! I crack myself up)
Just how deep a river can you cross on a motorbike before you float away?
What does a pie-floater taste like?
Is the duck-billed platypus taking the mick? I mean honestly it's a beaver with a prosthetic nose!

I will hopefully NOT be answering any of these questions:
What is it like to float away down a river on a motorbike?
What is it like to share a sleeping bag with any number of bitey and rather toxic insects?
Do crocodiles take good care of their teeth?

Any pressing questions you want answering, feel free to send them in! :-)

Ahh...the things I do for science...

Act two, scene one...

2006-08-29T01:09:00.001+08:00

...finds the hero of this tale somewhere else. So instead, I'll have write something...

I've now been back in the UK for well over a month. The wedding was well worth the flight back and I'm glad I was able to make the effort and attend. I've uploaded a few photos from the event, so anyone that was there can take a look at http://www.arseaboutface.com/wedding for some remarkably un-embarrassing images. Had a great time, and met some great people. Hope the rest of your time together is just as much fun Richard and Eoife.

Managed to get myself completely kitted out with motorcycle equipment (see above, very dashing image) while I've been back, so I'll be ready to get on with adventuring as soon as I return to Australia. I'm hopefully due to fly out at the end of August. (Terrorist plots / acts of random paranoia permitting of course)

I even tried to write a few begging letters to see if I could get any kit for free. Unfortunately I've never mastered the art of self-promotion, so my efforts garnered me pretty much squat in the way of free goodies. I did manage to get a good discount from Arai for the helmet though, so kudos to them for stepping up to the plate and helping out.

I customised it a little bit as you can see from the picture above. (it's a cartoon 'Sly-Fox' which I use as an avatar when lurking around the internet. Fascinating eh?!) Other than that I got a couple of polite "oh we've expended our budget for the year" responses, but most people didn't even bother to reply. It just doesn't help not being famous when you're scrounging I suppose. :0)

Other than a very short blast on a bike in New Zealand last year, I've not really ridden a bike since I passed my test! I'm sure it'll all come flooding back though. Just keep the round black rubber things in contact with the ground as much as possible I reckon, what could possibly go wrong?!

Oh, I always do all my reading in full bike gear, it erm...aids the concentration, yes that's it.

Lights will guide you home...

2006-06-17T19:24:00.000+08:00

...although in my case I'm also hoping a couple of pilots and a very large aeroplane will be involved as well.

So here I am in Western Australia. Armadale to be precise, just outside the city of Perth. Not a great deal to report as I've been spending most of my time pretending to be a web-designer. Not doing too bad a job too, even if I do say so myself. All this work does have a purpose (what work hasn't?), the fruits of my labour will be one of these:
Which I will then proceed to take on a grand and frankly rather insane expedition around this:

It will certainly make my blog entries a little more interesting once I'm on my way, so make sure you all check back on a regular basis! :0)

A couple of people have asked why exactly I'm taking a vehicle that clearly has two wheels missing, around a very bloody big country. I'll erm.....let you know once I figure that one out myself.

First things first though, a flight back to the UK for the wedding and a handy chance to pick up some nice European riding kit. Hooray for shopping!

Burn baby burn...

2006-05-30T11:32:00.000+08:00

Melbourne certainly takes the cake for innocent yet surprisingly destructive 'art' installations. Every day at 9pm some columns of concrete surrounded by a curtain of water that are embedded along the banks of the Yarra river reveal their true nature. They are in fact, 30ft high flamethrowers which disgorge an impressive pyrotechnics display for no particular reason other than they can. Can't really see the point, although it does make you go 'oooohhh, aaaahhh' the first couple of times.

Innovative way to control the pigeons I reckon.

Flying to Perth tomorrow morning at 6am, which means being at the bus station by 3:30am to enable me to catch the right bus to get me to the airport. Nice!

When all you've got to keep is strong, move along...

2006-05-27T12:15:00.000+08:00

Well here I am, finally in Melbourne. Like a somewhat more vertical Christchurch really. Been to the standard touristy type attractions; the museum, the art galleries, the botanic garden etc etc. Big cities are wasted on me, I'm not cut out for appreciating them. Give me a big wide expanse of 'natural' any day. Met some good folks at the 'Urban Central Backpackers', but I'm not sure I'll be able to get used to not living in a van anymore!

Looks like I may have managed to arrange some work over in Perth for a month or so, which will be great! Then I'll hopefully be flying back to the UK for a few weeks. Be nice to catch up with family and friends again!

This could be...

2006-05-19T10:25:00.000+08:00

"This could be the very minute, I'm aware I'm alive. All these places feel like home." - Snow Patrol

They do too, feel like home I mean. All these places I've visited, now that it comes time to leave them for another land I realise I felt very comfortable here. So the ticket for Australia is all booked, Christchurch to Melbourne direct; 7am in the morning on sunday mind you, so it'll be early to bed for me tomorrow!

I've put up a gallery of assorted photos from my travels around New Zealand, you can find it at www.arseaboutface.com/nz. Just a brief selection of images, some without captions as I'd already posted my old journal home and couldn't remember where I took the damn things. Plenty more where those came from, but I'll put all those online once I get home and develop a proper website around all this travelling malarky.

Originally I was planning to start my tour around Australia as soon as I arrived in Melbourne, however now I've been re-thinking my plans; mainly due to an old mate of mine getting married in July. (Cheers Richard!) I thought it was very inconsiderate of him to get hitched whilst I was going to be out in the middle of nowhere Oz, and I certainly don't want to miss the only time he'll be getting married! So I'm thinking about working for a month in Melbourne to get the cash for a ticket back to Ireland for the wedding, then flying back afterwards to continue my travels.

We'll see what the job market is like once I arrive in Melbourne. This had better be one hell of a wedding buddy, it's going to be one hell of a commute! :0)

Welcome to "arseaboutface.blogspot.com".

2006-05-16T22:40:00.000+08:00

Welcome to "arseaboutface.blogspot.com". This will eventually be a place where I post news and the ocassional photo from my travelling. This is really just a lazy way for me to stay in touch with family and friends, but if anyone else finds this stuff of interest then that's just fine by me.

The general plan was to fly out to New Zealand from the United Kingdom, and then travel slowly home from there for as long as the money and the sanity lasted. New Zealand because it was about as far from home as I could get before you cross the point of no-return and start travelling back again. I'm a bit late in starting this blog as I've been in New Zealand for 12 months now, and am about to start a tour around Australia, but better late than never I suppose!

So I'll post in this blog as and when I can, it'll be in addition to regular (ish) e-mail updates to my family and friends; so apologies to them if they show up here expecting to read new and exciting information.

Current location is: Christchurch, New Zealand