Monthly Archives: September 2016

The 90 Mile Beach Bike Ride

Starting off this journey all those moons ago, I was high as a kite. On one hand still in my own country, surrounded by what I’ve always known as it came to everything from language and culture, to food and nature. Still nothing was the same, as had just taken that big leap and thrown myself out from life as I knew it.

I was free. Curious. Ready for adventure.

Though I sort of already knew what would be waiting behind it, every bend in the road seemed to hide something I so desperately wanted to explore. And so I did.

I don’t have a proper word for that one feeling. Or perhaps state of mind would be more accurate. There is excitement, and calm. Naive spontaneity, and calculated focus. There is right here, right now – and nothing else exists. There is Flow. And life.

I still love this feeling more than might always be healthy. To be honest, I’ve probably developed some sort of addiction to it. Good or bad, I don’t know. Certain though is that this one seem to be working like any drug, where one keeps needing to up the dose to get that fix.

And I guess that’s how I on my first morning of riding in New Zealand found myself here.

Some would say Stupid. I still choose to go with Free. Curious. Ready for adventure.

Some asking around about the tides, and three good kilometers of pushing my bike through this shallow river got me onto the so called 90 Mile Beach. A name which makes about as much sense as it does to try and ride a bicycle around the world. In reality the whole thing isn’t longer than something like 80 odd kilometers.

I reached the water front in time to climb up on the first dune and watch the waves of the wild sea come crashing in on the sand banks. And definitely in time to seriously start questioning how and if this idea would actually work out.

But then, bang on time according to the wrinkly schedule I’d been handed from some local, the tide drew back. Revealing the epic bicycle autostrada it’d been hiding underneath it’s surface.


1, 2, 3… Let’s go!

Wild sea to the right. Sand dunes to the left. Beach. And as the sun escaped the clouds, an always-changing light show worthy all the superlatives you come up with.

It’s safe to say that this beach gave me a couple of good days. (A key part to which probably being that I’m still off tourist season and more or less got the whole thing for myself.)

Alright New Zealand. You’re officially off to a good start.

Let’s see what else you have in store.

Fredrika

By |September 26th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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End (or Start) of the World

After kissing my friends goodbye at Queenstown airport we took a seat in different planes. Theirs going halfway around the world, back to squeeze out the very last of the Swedish summer. And mine being just a brief session in the air to get back to Auckland and Mr. Bike.

Generally my route through any given country falls more or less naturally, connecting the borders I’m travelling between. But with New Zealand being the island(s) that it is, that just isn’t the case. This combined with having a good chunk of time to spend, is setting things up for some rather good times if you ask me.

So with time so see it all, and the opportunity to choose your own starting point. Where do you go?

To the edge of land, of course!


Cape Reinga, the northernmost point of New Zealand.

Hitchhiking with a fully loaded bicycle is a little trickier than with only a backpack, but thanks to a bunch of friendly people in pick-ups it didn’t take me much more than a day to get from Auckland to the lighthouse that would serve as the starting line of my Kiwi bike ride.

As it turned out this spot didn’t only make up for a good looking point on a map.

Cape Reinga is incredibly beautiful, but not only that. It’s where you watch the big swirls from the country’s two massive surrounding oceans (Tasman Sea and The Pacific) joining to one. And the sacred place where the indigenous Maoris believe their spirits begin their final journey to the afterlife.

And yes. There certainly is something in the air up there.

So, I made it to the start. Pointed my bike south.

And let the ride begin!

I have a feeling this is going to be a good one. What do you think?

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |September 21st, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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New Zealand Pt. 1 – Touchdown

I boxed up Mr. Bike and boarded the plane. For the 2nd time on this journey I was leaving ground, this time headed for New Zealand.

New Zealand. The dream destination I had been fantasising about visiting ever since 11-year-old me for the first time got to watch Gandalf roll his wooden waggon into the Shire.

On the flight I stayed in my seat. Counting the minutes that refused to pass, pleading with time to finally get its act together and get a move on. Listening to the sound of my finger tips restlessly tapping against the armrest I was sharing with the wrinkly lady next to me. For a second my mind wandered, imagining the adventures she might be on her way home from. Only to immediately go back to the not very productive activity of mentally trying to push time forward.

I hadn’t moved an inch since sitting down a few hours earlier. Still I could feel my heart beating through my chest. I was excited. Nervous even.

New Zealand.

The place in itself was not what was on my mind though.

They were.

I think you can relate. No – I know you can:

1) Imagine two of your best friends in this life.

2) Say goodbye.

3) Leave for 1½ years.

4) … & then. REUNITE.

I don’t think I there is too much to say here. There were zero bicycles. Instead my first 3 weeks in New Zealand (which indeed is incredible) consisted of approximately a gazillion laughs, hugs and more or less comprehensible solutions to everything from roasting kumera to world peace.

I’ll spare you the details. But in short; there were 3 girls and a red Toyota. Coffee. And there was friendship.

And it was all quite great.

Well. Yeah.

Thank you girls for coming. I love you.

See you when I get home.

Fredrika

By |September 16th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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Australia Pt. 11 – Finish Lines

I came to Australia with one thing in mind – outback adventures. And boy had I found what I was searching for. My months in the country had given me thousands and thousands of kilometers of its intense emptyness, and I was done.

The very last one of the dusty tracks and trails I had used to wind my way through the center had come to an end, and that early morning when I finally rolled back onto tarmac I was quite happy to do so. I still had 1500 or so kilometers to go before reaching my final destination, but just having my tyres touch that smooth surface felt like a finish line as good as anyone.

Flinders Ranges and the Great Ocean Road alone are good enough reasons to come to Australia. This time however, they simply got to play the part of a heartfelt outro to an adventure already finished. While heavy winter storms came crashing in one after another, absolutely pristine scenery and a bunch of lovely Aussies set me up for the breeziest ride imaginable through it all.

Thank you Sari & Simon, Marg, Bruce & Helen, Astrid, Kirsten, Robbie & everyone else for spoiling me ruthless, and almost making me forget what a wet sleeping bag feels like. I won’t ever forget you – you lovely, lovely lot.

As we all know, sooner or later all things do come to an end, and eventually the Great Ocean Road and my whole Australian route did as well. The flight taking me from Melbourne to New Zealand was now only days away, but there was still one important thing left on the itinerary.

Meet up with the Knee family!

Long story short would be that after spending a year of her teens milking their cows, this has always been my Mom’s long lost 2nd family. And though they’ve (for obvious reasons) been way to few, every opportunity to meet up have been taken ever since. Even I got to join once, and growing up I’ve always kept that Aussie trip past Rae & Bruce’s farm as a childhood highlight.

And oh, was it great to be back.

Nothing was the same, but everything still just as I remembered it. Not the same ones, but the dogs were there. The quad bikes too, though they’d been upgraded years ago. The calves I’d met then would surely be great grandmothers today. And Dan – who was born in between milking sessions back in my Mom’s days – was now running the farm.

I don’t need to tell you that this was a happy time, do I? In short, all was good. And for my part – after 3 months and 6000 kilometers – Australia was officially a finished chapter. For this time around. Because though I have no idea when, the fact that there will be a next time is a definite.

… & I mean, what actually changes in a decade anyways?

My answer is nothing. And everything.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |September 8th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
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