A short and very pleasant ride today. I had a tailwind most of the way and the rubber band on the fender worked great. As I rounded the southern end of the Firth of Thames and turned north I ran into Brem from Belgium.
Brem’s rear tire was in serious trouble: he had just popped two spokes on the same side and was in real danger of collapsing the entire wheel. I followed Brem into Thames were the very nice Kiwi at the bike shop gave me a bolt for the fender and assured Brem he’d have his tire fixed up and have Brem on his way in a few hours.
Brem was just ending a two month tour of both the north and south islands. He was finishing the route I more or less intend to complete in four months. That’s nearly 3000 kilometers a month for Brem. A very large number that lends at least some believability to Brem’s plan to begin another tour in May when he’s off to Alaska and subsequently pedal his way to Patagonia (yes, the Patagonia on the southern tip of Argentina) That’s something like 27,000 kilometers. He says it should take him about a year.
This brought up the question of just what, exactly, Brem does for a living that allows him to spend a year riding his bike from the arctic to the antarctic circle. The answer apparently is that he lives in one of those terrible socialist countries that values how one lives more than how much money one accumulates. Brem has been banking his government mandated leave time from work and his office job (it was never clear what that was and clearly didn’t matter) will be awaiting him when he returns. Oh, and the government gives him a significant tax break because he doesn’t own a car and instead commutes by bike to his job--whatever it is--in Brussels. Oh, and if he gets hurt on his adventure the socialist government run health care system will pay up to 2,000,000 euro in medical expenses (about 4,000,000 US) and repatriate him back to Belgium after he has recovered. I of course am on my own.
After saying goodbye to Brem I headed up the lovely west coast of the Coromandel Peninsula and did indeed stop at the first campground I came across. Shortly after arriving a friendly couple from Holland pulled up and set their tent next to mine.
Kurt and Tia are at least in their mid sixties and are beginning a two month tour that will take them to Christchurch. I’m afraid these very nice retirees are going to blow right past me tomorrow as we all head up and over the Wangapoua hill (which Brem, the adventure cyclist from hell, described as very steep). Kurt and Tia--also from one of those terrible socialist country we hear so much about in the USA--spend every winter touring somewhere warm. This year New Zealand. Last year they rode their bikes from Bangkok to Ho Chi Min city, the year before that they rode around Cuba.
Of course both the Dutch couple and the guy from Flanders talked with me in English.
I feel quite provincial.
Sunset looking across the Firth of Thames towards Miranda
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