Distance cycled: 10km
Mugs of lemsip consumed: 4
Times I heard my back crack: 3
Number of minutes I owned two bicycles: 23
Highlight: Calling into McCoveny Cycles and a young mechanic named Dave
making drastic modifications to my front rack, I made my ferry to
Scotland with one minute to spare. (Front rack is a bicycle term,
not a part of the anatomy!)
Lowlight: My nose dripping like a leaky
tap.
When I arrived in Belfast I felt like everything was falling
apart. My body, my bike and even my mind needed a good tune up. I
stayed the night at Barry's pad and he and his girlfriend took me
out to a funky Japanese restaurant called Zen. Even a
Ginger Ninja cocktail couldn't revive me and by the end of the
night I could barely keep my eyes open. I had a fitful nights sleep
and when I looked in the bathroom mirror the next morning I didn't
recognise the person looking back. Indiana June had gone AWOL and I
was left with this sickly, sad looking stranger in her place. My
phone beeped and a text message informed me all ferry sailings to
Scotland had been cancelled. Hurricane Katia had arrived in
Northern Ireland and was blasting the autumn streets like a
monstrous leaf-blower. Rather than wallow in self pity I decided to
put Operation: DUCKS IN A ROW into action.
Step 1: Eat proper food. (And no alcohol!)
Step 2: Skype my family for some much needed face-time.
Step 3: See a chiropractor to sort out post-zorbing aches and
pains.
Step 4: Upgrade my bicycle to something more durable and
tour-able.
Nurse Barry was on Lemsip duty and every time I sniffed he
placed a piping hot mug of lemon-aid in front of me. For breakfast
I cooked up a hearty bowl of porridge and ate it while chatting to
my folks on skype, followed by a bone-clicking bonanza at Rosetta Chiropractic. I was adjusted by Marie
Josie, a really sweet doctor who played chilled out tunes while she
worked her magic.
Next stop was the Bike Dock where I chose the Ridgeback Voyage touring bike to carry me on
the next leg of the journey. It's a sleek and sexy looking machine
so to make it less attractive to thieves I wrapped the frame in old
bicycle inner tubes. My dilemma then was what to do with Snowy, my
old bike. I had a ferry to catch at 11am the next day and I was
struggling to come up with a plan, as well as struggling to walk
two bikes at once in hurricane force winds. A guy cycling in the
opposite direction felt sorry for me and offered to help me get the
bikes home. He had 20 minutes before a dentist appointment so it
was a kind gesture on his part. As we cycled along he explained he
rides a unicycle in his spare time so riding two bikes
simultaneously was no bother. He asked what I planned on doing with
my old bike and I said I was hoping to sell it, knowing full well I
had little chance of offloading it before my boat sailed to
Scotland in 17 hours time. My prayers were answered when Simon
asked if he could buy Snowy right there and then. We agreed on a
price and before I knew it I was saying a teary farewell to the
bike that had carried me for the first six weeks of the tour. Snowy
was more than a bike, he's the one that got up every morning
without complaint and carried me to the next random place I was
voted to go. But like all good things his time had come to an end
and I had a boat to catch to Scotland.
Operation: DUCKS IN A ROW was a huge success, lets hope next
time it doesn't take a natural disaster of hurricane proportions to
make me stop and take stock of the situation!