Day 9: Parakai to Waiheke Island
March 5th 2014
Distance cycled: 50 km
Total distance to date: 515 km
Today was probably the worst day so far. I write this paragraph as I am on a comfy commuter ferry with a/c en route to Waiheke Island. It is nearly 6pm. The sun is shining over Auckland and the sky is free of clouds. So why was it so bad?
Well, as I left Helensville this morning, I realized I had a flat. So that was strike one. I pulled over near a primary school. Within seconds, a dozen 5-year-olds at recess had congregated at the fence, watching me throw all my stuff off the bike and asking a billion questions.
"What happened to your bike?"
"Where's your car?"
"What are you doing to your wheel?"
"Where do you come from?"
"Do you know my teacher?"
"Do you know my name?"
"Do you have a brother?"
And so on. I was glad to have the company but the distraction was enough to ensure that I didn't fix the puncture properly. A few more kilometers down the road, I realized the back tire was still losing air. Strike two.
Frustrated, I stopped and unloaded everything from the bike again.
"I'm gonna fix the hell outta you," I said to the bike.
That's when it began to rain.
Now, as I've mentioned before, the summer rains tend to pass quickly here. So I threw on the rain jacket but didn't bother with the rain pants as I set to work fixing the flat.
Within minutes, I was soaked through. There was no chance of fixing the puncture, as I couldn't keep the part that needed the glue dry enough to accept the glue. I tried anyway and ended up with a patch that was completely useless, as the seal hadn't fully took.
It was about this time that a driver pulled over and asked if I needed help or a ride.
I looked at my overturned, dismantled bike, the tube in my hands, and my pile of increasingly wet things on the ground.
"I'm fine," I said.
"Are you sure you can get it to work?"
"Yes," I lied. "Thank you." The driver pulled off.
I fished around in my pannier for the spare tube, installed it, and rode away shivering and cursing myself for ever having come up with the idea to cycle tour across New Zealand, and praying that the tube wouldn't fail. By this time, the rain had stopped. My feet were soaked through as well.
I had no idea how long I was supposed to ride before hitting Auckland. I was convinced I'd be cycling wet and cold for hours on end. But not too long after fixing the flat, the sun came out. Then I saw a sign leading me towards the city: 27km. And not too long after that, I crested a hill and could see the Sky Tower. I was in Massey, a suburb of Auckland.
My guidebook says the following: "The route into the city is signposted most of the way as the North West Cycle Route. What could be easier?"
Famous last words. I saw no such sign. I asked people on the street, consulted my iPhone map, went to an AA for maps and info, followed cycle paths that brought me back to places I'd already been. Strike three: hopelessly lost in Massey.
I stopped for coffee at a coffee shop run by an Asian couple. There were no other customers and they went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and welcome, even offering to fill my water bottles. I spread a few of my things out to dry as I drank my flat white.
After coffee, I cycled a nice cycle path along a river, through some roadworks, emerging on the other side... back to the road where I'd had my coffee. Ugh! I was never going to get downtown! I spotted an older couple unloading some bikes from their SUV and decided to ask them the way into the city.
The lady replied, "Oh we're going that way. Follow us," and hopped on her bike.
All I can say is: thank goodness for these two middle-aged angels, Sheryl and Grant, who led me down a cycle path that I absolutely never ever would have found on my own. It went mostly along a highway but was obviously the route made for cyclists, as it was paved and fenced off and many bike commuters were on it headed in the opposite direction. Along the way, Sheryl pointed out one sign that was lying on the ground. So I guess the route was signposted after all.
The day really turned around at that point. In no time at all, we'd made it to the top of Queens Street, from which it was a straight shot to the ferry terminal. I weaved through rush hour traffic and made it in time for the 5:30 ferry to Waiheke Island.
The day ended with a warm welcome by my host Roger and his partner Els, who was just getting off the ferry as well. We all cycled together from the ferry terminal to their beautiful home in Ostend, where we enjoyed a salad for dinner as well as fruits grown from their garden: figs, peaches, and grapes. I was so tired, I was asleep by 10pm and didn't wake until 9am the next day.
posted by Kyla @ 14:34
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