Cape Argus Cycle Tour

As D. wasn't doing the bike race because of her illness I became a bit reluctant and decided to hire a car and do some exploring out of town instead. However no cars were available for hire .... because 32,000 people were in town to do a bike race.

Mike, from the bike club, offered to give me a lift in to town to register for the race Thursday morning at registration some of the buzz of the event started to rub off on me. There were hundreds of people of all nationalities, shapes and sizes registering and a huge exhibition of cycling equipment added to the “big event” feel. Mike's enthusiasm about the event was also contagious. He had been training for months, had done one of the seeding events and had been practising bits of the route ready for the big day. On the way back he deliberately drove along the route and showed me the hills and the dangerous descent from Boyes Drive down to Kalk Bay.

Back at the house was the bike that D. had managed to borrow from her friend Bjorn, - the lightest sleekest bike I had ever ridden, a proper racing bike.

Although it was a bit close to the event on the Sunday I decided that I ought to give my body a warning about cycling in extreme heat and to let my bum have a slight chance get used to a hard narrow racing saddle.

Minutes aftger setting off down the road the first problem became apparent. There was one gear lever on each side ehich changed the gears one way but no way I could see to change the gears the other way. After stopping and checking the bike and trying everything I flagged down a group of cyclists going the other way.

With brisk German effieiency it was revealed that the brake lever moves sideways and that changes the gears the other way!! Incredible!! It would never have crossed my mind that a brake lever moved any other way than in and out. Mein gut Samaritan then checked over my bike, adjusted the quick release tension on the front wheel, pointed out that my front brake had the release open and suggested I eased off the power when changing down a gear! Did he think I was an idiot? Mmhh. I guess if you flag someone down to ask how to change gear that goes without saying.

An hour later my body was giving signs that it was not at all adjusted to the heat and man and bike in tune ..... I had a puncture. And then another puncture half way back and I started to assume that there must be something I wasn't doing right. A visit to the bike shop in Fish Hoek resulted in the purchase of a new rear tyre and when they realised I had only pumped to the tyres up to the 40psi that I use on my mountain bike. They told me that was less than half the pressure needed. I guress this was the moment for them to take me for an idiot and it was a relief they didn't feel the need to give any other advivce.

Sunday, the day of the race, I woke before the alarm even though it was set for 5.30 and at five past six was cycling down the road in the thick darkness and silence in order to get the 6.25 train from Gllen Cairn.

Cruising gently down the hill a familiar gentle whooshing noise and the dark silhouette of a mountain bike swished past followed by another dozen in singles and small groups. Coming up to the main road more cyclists heading from the Fish Hoek direction. The pre-dawn lightening of the horizon over the mountains on the other side of False Bay reminiscent of an Alpine start before some scary climb. The impression of silent intense figures converging like the Close Encounters film also evokes memories of going with Bryn to Winter evening football games at Portsmouth, - and I began to have a really good anticipation about the day!!

Luckily the train was nearly empty and I leaned my bike against the side of the carriage and sat down. Within 5 stops all the entrances of the carriage were completely blocked by bikes and people trying to get to work were being turned away. I wondered how we would get out of the carriage if the train caught fire. The answer so obvious it was best not to think about it.

At the main station I followed the others to a large plaza full of cyclists queing in bays and even more who had arrived early and were waiting for their turn. I asked a volunteer how to get to EE bay (the starting group for international entrants). She said I was too late and ushered me into bay HH with the tandems. If I had realised that Matt Damon was in group EE then I might have been more insistent about finding the right group but it was very pleasant in the HH group. I think tandem riders must be more orieted to being social than competitive and it was a very nice atmosphere with a surprising number of wigs, fancy dress and decorated bikes!

We were ushered out of the bay and lined up on the main road. Finally the count down and Go! It was already windy and as I took my first tentative push on the pedal there was a huge gust of wind and I had to put my foot down to balance myself. Around me a scene of complete devastation. Tandems seem to catch the wind more (and besides I had been eating a lot of pies). Every tandem around me had been blown to the ground along with many of their riders. Tentatively I picked my way around the chaos between further gusts. Reaching an archway the wind was so strong that I had to dismount and push the bike through. It was a relief finally to get on with the familiar feeling of cycling up a steep hill (except that it was a slight hill with a steep wind).

The route of the race is really interesting with spectactular mountain and coastal views, with blue seas lightening to turquoise where they touched sandy beaches. And always the fabulous scenery of the Cape mountains. The number of other comptetitors is a source of constant interest, overtaking and being overtaken adding to the drama.

From Kalk Bay I seemed to find my cycling legs and from here to Smitts Winkel was a steady relentless push uphill and against the wind. Tucking close behind an individual or smal group of cyclists made it much easier and I began to feel like a bit of leech, (but carried on in any event). The relief of reaching Smitts Winkel and changing direction and heading back North with the wind was immense. Half way reached and nearly 15 kilometers of downhill /flat relaxed and pleasant cycling. Nostalgia passing the Garden Centre where I had stayed in a cottage on my previous trip and passing Scarborough and other familiar beaches.

I was passing a lot more people than were passing me and started to feel a bit of confidence growing. Running over a cat's eye at speed punctured the rear tyre which deflated as fast as my confidence. The tyre was changed pretty quickly but then the valve snapped off as I the pump was removed. The second innertube was replaced with more care but 10 minutes had been lost.

After a savage sand blasting when the route passed close to a beach it was a pleasure to finally get to seeChapmans Peak Drive. (This had also been closed on my previous holiday). The wind was a real problem, stopping us in our tracks on some of the uphill sections and making it difficult to get going again up the hill. On the descent, gusts blew people off their bikes and one person was being carried into an ambulance.

Still the views were dramatic and enjoyable none the less. And although increasingly tired I began to get a sense that I was going to finish and that my pace had been judged and my time was going to be as good as it could be allowing for age, flab and lack of fitness.

Feeling so tired it was difficult to really appreciate the changing beaches and views of Hout Bay, Green Point and on towards Cape Town. Lions Peak and the cable car corner of Table Mountain got steadily closer and then were passed. Finally the finish, a medallion pushed in my hand and a very slow ride back to the station. During the 45 minute wait for the next train I fell asleep and thank goodness the girl next to me woke me up when it arrived!

In the train I was woken at Fish Hoek to be asked to move my bicycle just in time so that I was ready to get off two stops later at Glen Cairn..

A double expresso and apple crumble at the deli at the Souther Right gave just enough energy to face getting up the hill to the house and a very early night!!

The sense of achievement was dented a couple of days later when I discovered that Bjorn, whose spare bike I had used, had done the route in a little over 3 hours, - nearly 2 hours quicker than me! It seemed almost impossible to me but apparently a few 1000 manage times of this order.

This hasn't stopped me already starting to wonder if I might be able to come back next year and have another go!!

Simons Town Area

On Sunday I tried again to go for the run through the sports centre and this time found the entrance blocked by a family of baboons!! Apparently they they are endangered, but can be aggressive, especially if they think that you are carrying food. The local dustbins are baboon proof and residents have to be careful about leaving windows and doors open in case the baboons raid the house.

I tentatively followed them at a distance, admiring the enviable slow relaxed way they have of walking. Then when the entrance was clear went jogging up the hill. After thoroughly exploring all the wrong directions worked out where the proper track was but was too tired to follow it. It is the first time I have been running since October

The local beaches of Glen Cairn and Fish Hoek are very nice, sandy, not too crowded and close to good cafes! Does it get any better than this. On Sunday we went very early to the tidal pool at St James beach. Even though it was early we only just squeezed in to park at the station and it was crowded.

In the meant!ime I had been reading a local walking guide and so on Monday got the train to Fishhoek and after checking out Bettys cafe, walked back to the house via Elsie's peak. Including walking along to the end of the ridge overlooking the Atlantic this took about two and half hours and I really enjoyed the incredible variety, flowers and fragrance of the fynbos. And never met a soul!

The following day I ventured further afield and went to Simon's Town which is a lovely place with a pleasant colonial atmosphere and somehow the genteel atmosphere of a place designed for british naval officers. The Sweetest Thing Patisserie serves excellent coffee and has a lovely high ceiling and very nice ambience. I walked along the road to Seaforth and then followed the trail to Block House Gap and onto Simonsberg. The made trail ends there (and so did my map) but the path heading south looked so obvious that I just followed it and discovered one of the best ridge walks I had done for a long time. Nicely level, sandy underfoot reminiscent of walking along a coastal path but either with views west over pleasant hills or occasionally dramatic views to the East of a steep drop of 600m to a wild looking coast. And towards the end of the walk dramatic views to the South of the headland of Cape Point and the sea beyond stretching off to Antartica.

Eventually the path came out to forestry station at Smithswinkel where I got into conversation and was given a lift back to Simon's Town and checked out Bertha's Restaurant and Coffee House which is in a really good location over the harbour but was a bit posh for me.

First Few Days in the Western Cape

Arrived in Cape Town and my friend was too ill to meet having only been out of hospital less than a week.
I also was feeling a bit lacking in energy but not so much that I wasn't constantly marvelling at the heat and the light and general contrast with gloomy England.

On Friday morning I jogged down the mile to the beach at Glencairn but as I was the only person on the beach I was too intimidated to have a good swim because of the fear of sharks. My safety rules are 1) Never be the furthest person on the beach 2) Swim nearest the person who looks most like a seal. Neither of these rules are helpful when there is no-one else on the beach. I invented a new rule .... don't go further than chest deep.
But the beach is lovely, sandy, and the water cool when you first go in and then just right for swimming.Glen

Later on we called in on the other main attraction in Glen Cairn which seems to be the Southern Right Hotel. In the basement they have a deli which sells very nice coffee and pastries booked on the premises.

Saturday morning I jogged up the hill having realised there was a path onto the fynbos through the sports club, .. and I thought I could get high enough up the hill to get a view of the Atlantic Ocean (Glen Cairn is on the Indian Ocean). Unfortunately it was so early they hadn't unlocked the gates at the sports club so I continued up the road until I got to the end and found a path onto the hill through the fynbos at da gama park. I had been reading about snakes in the area particular the puff adder which causes most problems because they don't move when they hear you coming! My concentrated attention on the next step I was taking rather spoilt my ability to enjoy the plants and the view.

My firiend has been too ill to cycle for over a month and so after we called into the Green Bean cafe in West Lake where the SuperCycling club start their weekly ride from the Cycle Lab bike shop and meet afterwards at the Green Beans Cafe which served the best muffin I have ever had. (yes I think it may be even better than the Caracoli muffin available in Alresford)

After we went to see my friends nephew play base ball at the local club.

Autumn in Hampshire

It may be from being in Rio for a month but the leaf colours this Autumn are really engaging my attention.

Just the trees in town are a fabulous range of yellows, browns, reds and gold.

Yesterday cycling down back roads from Micheldever Station to Whitchurch the colours seemed amazing. Predominantly the yellows of Beech trees, the light green tinged with brown on the Sycamores and a darker but more varied range of greens and browns on the Oak trees.

Its hard to tell if the colours are better than last year or simply that I forget last year's delight in the enjoyment of this years.

I have heard that the colours depend on the amount of rain during the summer, (lots and lots) and whether there is a frost. (a few already).

Also it depends a lot on when the first storm comes because then most of the leaves move from the trees to the ground!

PS photo half-hinched from Flickr

Trip to Nova Friborgo

Pão de Açúcar

Decided last Saturday would be a good day to look for the scramble up the back of the Pão de Açúcar. Got the Metro and Metro-bus from Botafango station which stopped at the telepherique station.
A pleasant tarmac path leads from the Praia Vermelha under the South Face of the mountain. It was full of families and couples out for a stroll and lots of walkers keeping fit. Below the forest and just above the sea, it is spectacular, and ends at a large concrete pillar just before the end of the trees.

After jumping over the wall the path immediately becomes small, intimate and totally empty which was a real buzz after 3 weeks of the busyness and bustle of Rio de Janeiro.

Then the path starts to leave the trees and instead of bare earth traverses across easy slabs before following an easy line straight up to a very small peak at the South East end of the mountain. Any worries that it might be difficult to find the way were resolved when in the distance a big queue of people could be seen crammed up at one section of the route ahead.

The brief outline on the internet had said "one small section of 4 which many people choose to solo". Not mentioning which country the grade of 4 was from. I.e. British and too hard for me to solo, or French then ... maybe.

Arriving just below the difficult bit there were 2 ropes thrown down. What looked like local guides positioned at the bottom, 7 metres up and at the top 10 metres up. In what seemed a chaotic scene there were also 4 tourists sitting at the top and maybe 7 at the bottom while one person tied to the rope struggled up the climb in their trainers. Once they were at tthe top the harness and rope were lowered back down for the next tourist.

While trying to work out what was happening a fit young guy with a rucksack soloed up and so I followed behind as far as the hard moves and watched while he continued easily up the last 3 metres.

Waiting on a ledge while a tourist really struggled with the hard moves left me very much in 2 minds what to do. Luckily at that moment a nice guy from Michigan came up on a rope thrown down by the fit soloist. It turned out the soloist was Netto. Hired for the day at $300 to take David climbing. The first hard move was about VD. and ok. Hesitating before the harder move, David shouted down, "Would you like us to throw you the rope?"

Phew!! A minute later I was at the top of the difficulty (too hard for me to have soloed) happily shaking their hands.

From here it is a long steep walk to the top of the hill, arriving in a mob of tourists looking as if I had just stepped out fully dressed from a shower. It was a hot day! The views were fantastic and there are lots of nice footpaths around the summit in lovely bamboo groves.
The telepherique to the subsiduary peak is free and from there an obvious footpath leads back to the Praia Vermelha.
It was great that I have finally found a place in Rio where it feels safe to walk up a hill when there are so many.

Santa Teresa

It was agreed that we would have the last Portuguese lesson in Santa Teresa where Karina lives.

It is still so difficult to tell where is safe and where isn't that all travel is still a bit fraught. Still I got off the Metro at Estacioa Carioca and managed to find the start of the Bonde, which is behind the Petrobas buildin.g.
There are many posters of Rio that show 3 scenes; The statue of Christo Redentor on the Corvocaldo, the cable car going up to Pao de Asucar, and the old yellow tram going over a viaduct. This yellow tram is the Bonde. It costs 60 centavos to travel as far as you like. Despite this the driver and the conductor are happy for people to cling to the outside of the tram for free.

The tram crossed the viaduct and then it joins the roadd squeezes by parked cars, waits patiently while cars and vans in front of it manouvre to squeeze by and joggles slowly up the hill. All the time getting better views of the centre of Rio.


Teresa met me at the Largo de Maraes stop and we walked through the streets and visited the Parca des
Ruinas., which has particularly good views, before going back to Teresa's house to have a coffee. She rents one floor of a 4 story house. An visitor from England rents the downstairs. He was in a Pharmacist when it was robbed. He tried to creep out but the robber saw him and went to shoot. Running from the shop in a panic he was knocked over by a car and run over. (The fire brigade had to lift the car off him!
This confirms what I had already heard about St. Teresa which is that it is lovely but rather close to 2 bad favellas.

Another story about the place is that a woman said that she worked there every day for a year and didn't think it was that bad. She then admitted that once at work there was some shooting in the nearby favella and a stray bullet came through the window and went through the newspaper that her boss was reading. And once when they were driving out of the area in the boss' armoured car when a gangster with machine gun stepped in the road in front of them and forced them out of the car and then drove off in it.

Yet Karina has lived there for 5 years and says that it is fine and she has never had any trouble.

And there area was delightful with a bit of a hippy, arty feel to it and a real character and full of lovely individual styled houses. The next visit to Rio I-will be looking to rent a room in this area. After the intense affluence of Leblon it just seemed like a real place to live.

Karina's house was on a cul-de-sac street with a security guard with a barrier at the beginning. As well as this security she said that most of the shooting was between the 2 favellas and they were at right angles to this. At night she said you could hear the gun fire and see the bullets tracing between them but they didn't get any accidental bullets in her direction. (I guess that houses in the line of fire must be much cheaper).

Karina teaches Portuguese to 2 English volunteers who work at a charity that temporarily adopts children from the Favellas. It was set up by Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin, (who has married a Brazilian woman.)
He intends to have 3 or 4 places. The one we visited is for 2 to 6 year olds.They intend to have another one that has 6 to 11 year olds, one for older children than this and then a farm in the country where the older onces can go. So .... “a whole lotta love”!

Before I left I jumped on another tram carrying on up the hill and was rather unnerved to discover that after about a mile it stopped at the entrance to the main favella. As the tram manouvered to turn round I noticed that opposite the entrance to the Favella was a police post with 3 policeman in their flak jackets and carrying machine guns.

As a contrast the quaint houses of Santa Theresa here is a shot of the appartment block in Leblon. Apparently when this was built in the 1950's it was the very first high rise block in the area and at this time Leblon would have been very like Santa Teresa.