This week’s on this day post comes from the 5th-May-2012, and I’ve just reached the end of my ride to Australia. Which, as far as anybody knew, was the end. I hadn’t told anybody that I was going to fly on to America and cycle home.
Saturday 5th-May-2012 Loganholme to McDowell, Brisbane. 30 miles.
Well, that’s it. It’s all over. I’ve made it to Brisbane. It’s taken me six months, and I’ve cycled 11,800 miles since leaving home. Not quite as far as I’d thought, but then I did miss out on Iran and Pakistan. Now, what do I do?
Despite only cycling thirty miles today, it’s been hard going. And it’s one of the reasons I never book anywhere in advance. Cycling to Brisbane was easy, but finding a specific address is hard going when you don’t know the area. I’ve had to stop at nearly every McDonald’s en route to pick up wifi and check I was on the right roads. Still, it gave me an excuse to buy one of their little ice creams.
The last few miles seemed particularly hard. Zoe and Errol, who I’m staying with, live in a hilly suburb of Brisbane. I’d just come up a hill and had stopped to check where I was. I knew I was near their house, but where was it? Then I saw a big clue. They’d put a massive sign at the side of the road saying, “Here, Garry” It was just a short ride down their gravel drive where I got greeted by the Australian half of my family. There were only a few of them. The majority are coming over tomorrow for a barbeque, where I’ll get to meet them.
Good luck to everybody back in the UK. It’s the annual Isle of Wight trip this weekend. Enjoy the slight undulations! Hope to see you all next year!
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