Condensed new year bilge

All things must come to an end and so it is with my 2008 Australian odyssey. Mostly it has been good, although I could have done without being deliberately knocked off my bike. More on that later.

Christmas was excellent. A family affair with much feasting and festivity. Immediate family members L, P, M+P healthy and expecting (not all of them though). AJ has found a new role as ex-premier Bob Carr's research aide, which seems to involve informing him what various cool sounding Latin phrases mean. S+N are overseeing the growth of H+N, who appear to be doing just fine. NJ is scraping by on the smell of an oily rag after his employer went belly up. Other members of the family are slightly deafer but are still possessors of considerable intellect, making for interesting conversation.

Joneses, mostly
© Jeff Jones
A small child's perspective of Christmas
© Jeff Jones
Capturing the crucial post-flame pudding moment
© Jeff Jones
N vs H celebrity deathmatch
© Jeff Jones

On the other side of the Family, J+J are happily ensconced at Fingal, and J is determined to ride his bike again. M, also up at the Bay, is much better than she was at this time last year. J+L are tops and are gettin' married. J+K are good, although I needed to talk to them a bit more. J+N are overseeing the growth of Z+I, who are also doing just fine. D is currently car-less in Tassie, owing to a minor problem with the transmission.

Mains (some)
© Jeff Jones
N+Z+J
© Jeff Jones
An echelon of snags
© Jeff Jones
Mains and Joneses, mostly
© Jeff Jones

I also caught up with J, A, D+S and we had an aborted swim at one of Sydney's northern beaches. Bit choppy but. And it rained after 20min so we had to have F+C and listen to the travesty that was the second test. Still, the chicken curry was tres noice.

Swimming was much better the next day darn sarf with J, who actually went for a ride with me. It was also nice to catch up with JV, who is pulling up stumps and moving a long way sarf west. And JC down from oop norf (but not that far norf).

Actual names are left as an exercise for the reader. Did I leave anyone out? Compression necessary because of the sheer number of relatives/relatives I saw in such a short space of time.

I almost hit 20,000km for the year - 2000 more than last year but 12000(!) short of my '99 record - and would have done had I not been assaulted by a couple of idiots in a car on Tuesday. Princes Hwy at the Wolli Ck lights just before Cooks River (heading north). I'd pulled up at the lights, sitting in the left lane, but not the left turning lane, behind a couple of cars. As I set off I noticed the car behind me was very close, but it had plenty of room to pass.

That wasn't his intention. The driver slowly drew up beside me, still very close, and all of a sudden I felt the bike pushed hard left, presumably by someone in the passenger seat grabbing the seatpost, and I slid off onto my arse into the left turning lane. I had a bag on, which cushioned some of the fall, and got off relatively lightly, taking some bark off on my right hand side but not ending up too bruised. The bike was fine. Of course I had to get off the road and by the time I did, the arseholes who committed this brave deed were too far away to get a good look at the number plate or who did it. The traffic was solid but not heavy and of course no-one else stopped.

There was a girl waiting at the lights who saw me come off and I asked her if she'd seen what happened, but she hadn't. I rode home, very pissed off, in half a pair of shorts, patched myself up and reported it to the cops. All I could remember was that the car was black, looked more like a commodore than anything else, it had a black and yellow number plate possibly with 8 O in it. I knew they couldn't do anything much without a number plate but it may help if something like this happens again. And I'm sure with Sydney's yobbo car culture that it will.

I rode a couple of hours the next day, just to get things moving again, but I'm not relishing 32 hours in planes, airports and trains tomorrow. It'll be good to get back to a less yobbish place though.

Anyway, on a more positive note, 2008 has actually been an amazing year for me, so I can't complain too much. I hope it has been for the readers of this bilgespot. And if not, then may 2009 be a good 'un. Merry New Year.

Saturnalia odyssey

Yeah
© Jeff Jones

Sun, sun and more sun. But not too much hot sun, which is good. That's the way it is in Australia, the country that has elevated taking the piss to an art form with the critically acclaimed Shane Warne: The Musical.

Thankfully, there was no repeat of last year's Royal Brunei Airlines induced disaster. The main problem was that it rained the night before I left, meaning that both the Bath-London line and the bloody M4 were cut. So no direct trains or buses. I ended up going via the south circular, which meant I had a total of 40 minutes to run home from the station, finish packing, run back and get the train.

The Air China flight was long but it worked. Even allowing for the fact that Beijing airport is as modern as it is dysfunctional. Note to Chinese: please put departure boards in more places. And please swap the 'International Transit' sign (which was the wrong place to queue up) with the 'Apec electronic business card holder' sign (which was the correct place. Obviously).

It was all good, really.

Besides seeing the family (about to grow by one) and not getting sick, the most important appointment was meeting up with Josh for an actual bike ride. He was primarily responsible for getting me into this cycling lark but it's been approximately 12 years since we last rode together. A two hour loop through the back blocks of northwestern Sydney was just the thing for renewing that bond and getting rid of jet lag. That was followed by a 'surf' at Palm Beach and beers at the Beach Hotel in Collaroy. An ideal way to spend a day, if you ask me.

Enjoying the warmth but wishing I'd brought another bidon
© Jeff Jones
Josh in climbing mode
© Jeff Jones

Pete and I also managed to get down to Heffron for the Christmas Pudding race. Initially I wasn't going to race, with excuses ranging from "I did 80km on the way down here" to "I've just started training again" to "my weird geometry bike is not suitable for the corners of Heffron". I was most worried about the latter, although given a few runs around the track, I could probably adapt to its strange handling. I'm starting to like it now.

In the end I pinned a number on and rode the B/C grade handicap, my first proper crit for three years. It was nice and steady but I made sure not to do any turns and not to contest the sprint. That would be poor form. Still, it was better than watching and I clocked up 130km for the day. Pete took some fine pics of the occasion here, none of which have made it into the CN race report. I took some dodgy ones here:

Spurge, Willo and Sutto on the start line
© Jeff Jones
Graeme Brown (Rabobank) wins the Randwick Botany Xmas Puddin' Race
© Jeff Jones

Training has been enjoyable and I feel quicker than I did at this time last year. Thinks: I was sick in bed at this time last year.

Happy Saturnalia.

Ice ice baby

I was going to start with the statement "It is happening again" but I already used that in May. There just aren't enough words to go around any more, especially ones related to Twin Peaks. What I do know is Julee Cruise sings as flat as you can get without actually changing key. Falling is an appropriate title for this song.

<hits pause on YouTube. There is silence>

That's better. What possessed me to do such a rash thing?

I'm attempting to get my phone line fixed after a couple of months of to-ing and fro-ing between TalkTalk and BT. There is apparently a short circuit somewhere, either from water getting in (I can't imagine how that's possible in Bath's arid climate) or some physical damage somewhere. If it's the latter, then it may explain why the heating doesn't work either. Fortunately, November and December are the warm months here, otherwise I might freeze to death.

I've resumed training after a lax November. Five days a week, working up to six or seven by January. I've decided to start a little steadier than last year to hopefully avoid getting sick. I also want to start racing a little later: April rather than March, although I'll probably still do the Chippenham hilly in March. Still haven't figured out what events to aim for, but I'll get to that in due course.

Given that it's typically 0°Ré in the mornings and the roads tend to be icy or muddy, or both, John has suggested lunchtime rides - just get into work earlier and take a longer lunchbreak. I think this is a sensible plan. The other sensible plan is going to Oz for a few weeks. It is happening again.

Jetsetting

It's so nice not to have to get up at the crack of 8am on a Sunday to go out ridin' in the [insert poor weather here]. Especially after attending a wedding the previous night, which came on the back of a relaxing week in Belgium, not to mention a lightning visit to the USA a couple of weeks ago. This end of the year has been a whirlwind/tornado/twister/dust devil/willy willy of travel, and it ain't over yet.

Firstly, the US trip was brillo. I went over there to write this article on Specialized's aero testing which was a lot of fun. Flew in on Saturday, out on Monday, the plan being to avoid jetlag. I'm not sure if it worked, because I felt knackered for the rest of the week, and it spilled over into the next week. Still, it was well worth it. Next time (fingers crossed) I'll go for a bit longer and Visit People.

That theme more or less continued the next week in Belgium. I should have caught up with more folks but spent most of the week chilling out at Reiny's place. I went to the Six on the opening night, together with Gab, Reiny, Gwen and Darren Young. The racing/entertainment was top notch again even if we did drink too many pintjes. It's amazing to see these guys fly around a 166m track for hours on end. Sometimes there are up to 12 pairs on at once, with each team member flinging the other one in at high speed, dodging the other riders around them. It's mesmerising to watch and I'm glad we were sitting in the stands and not in the middenplein, because that's a dizzying experience.
Spektakel
© Jeff Jones
Veel spektakel
© Jeff Jones
Darren looking rather relaxed at this point in the proceedings
© Jeff Jones

Darren and I were the last of the spectators left once the racing finished. He was up for more (I'm not sure if I was) so we headed home via a couple of student bars on Overpoortstraat. There was some kind of orientation week thing going on, because everyone seemed to be wearing a sash, either in Belgian, Dutch or some other colours. A Dutch guy explained it all to me and I remember listening and taking it all in but none of the words actually stuck. It was possible that we'd had more than our fill of drinks by this stage. Anyway, a good night was had. The next day ... pass. At least the rest of the week was overcome in relative sobriety. A spinning class helped.

These did have alcohol in them.
© Jeff Jones
With his hand-eye coordination still razor sharp, Darren beat me 7-6
© Jeff Jones
I don't remember taking this photo, but it will serve to illustrate the occasion
© Jeff Jones

I returned to Bath for Jess and John's wedding. I know them from the publishers group and many other fun occasions. They've managed to get married twice this year, once in July and once in November. I think the July one was just a mini one to make it legal, while this one was the Big Bash at the Guildhall.

John (and possibly Jess as well) has Scottish heritage so they had to have a céilidh, complete with live band, as part of the proceedings. These are a lot of fun - way more than normal dancing - because you are not expected to know what you're doing. It's also a good way of meeting people, as are weddings in general. Top marks, J+J.

Finally, I will state on the record that the Great Western Paddington Railway Band makes the Strathfield Orchestra sound very good. Oh the humanity.

Hvar II: The Revenge

Hvar. Sigh
© Jeff Jones

I last visited the Croatian island of Hvar a couple of years ago in the all too brief period between leaving Cyclingnews and starting on BikeRadar. I remembered it as a bit of an island paradise where the pace was much slower than on the mainland. I also remembered a lot of drinking and eating seafood with Slovenians, a bit of riding, a tunnel, and getting very wet and cold one day.

The second time was even better, because it was bone dry, above 20 degrees every day, windless and thanks to a fair bit of pre-holiday training, I didn't manage to poison my liver with excessive amounts of alcohol.

After flying into Ljubljana, I met up with the architect behind this and many other trips: Primoz Kalisnik. In these times of the credit crunch, I was amazed to find the family rabbit still alive. I guess they're saving it for winter.

I also learned that it was inadvisable to become an author in Slovenia: Varya, Primoz's better half, is also one of the best selling authors in the country. Despite this, she got paid a paltry 1500 euros for her last book! That's just wrong! But there's only one big publisher and they can dictate how much the writers are paid. When asked, the Slovenian Minister of Culture told Varya to suck it up: "That's how it is." Poor.

We left the next day for the long drive to Hvar. An ex-Olympic rower (bronze medalist too) called Jani brought his van and a trailer, which could accommodate eight of us. He drove at a ridiculous speed so we could make the ferry from Split in time. We covered the 410km from the Slovenian/Croatian border to Split in 3.5 hours, including a stop. That reminded me of the 1991 intervarsity when we drove from Sydney to Melbourne in Nick Blombery's car with a trailer load of bikes on the back. Averaged 120km/h and ran out of petrol in the middle of bloody nowhere. But we found some in Humula and somehow made it to the all-important team managers' meeting on time.

We averaged 120+km/h from the Croatian border to Split in this van and trailer
© Jeff Jones

It was much sunnier and warmer in Split than Ljubljana, as well as being dead calm. The harbour's blue-green water looked stunning as we boarded the ferry and cruised out past a huge bright red oil tanker. Coffee and beer were consumed on the trip, which took 1hr45, then another 30 minutes to Nikica's apartments in Ivan Dolac, on the other side of the island. Within 10 minutes of arriving, the first round of schnapps had been drunk, followed by bread, meat and cheese and then dinner and wine, all provided by our hosts. So very good. But everyone (Primoz in particular) seemed knackered and got an early night. No stamina :-)

Within 10 min of arriving, we had downed the first round of schnapps
© Jeff Jones
Serenity at Ivan Dolac
© Jeff Jones

The perfect weather continued the next morning and right through our stay. After brekky and kava (coffee) we headed off to Hvar, roughly a 60km round trip going over the highest point on the island at 442m. A dog accompanied us for about 10km, which shows you how slow we were riding. I'd been lent a Pinarello FP3 to test ride and rather nice it was too. I didn't even get it wet this time!

We stopped at Hvar for coffee (of course) and I had a small slice of cake for fortification purposes. It was a 30km return trip, after all. We then paid a visit to Jelsa for some more coffee before heading back to Ivan Dolac for a late lunch, wine, seafood, swimming, dinner, wine etc. You can see a certain pattern developing and I wish I could develop it more often.

This dog followed us all the way to bloody Jelsa
© Jeff Jones
Don't go in there!
© Jeff Jones
Action shot
© Jeff Jones
Me bike, a Pinarello FP3
© Jeff Jones
Looking out over some scenery
© Jeff Jones
Andrej (L), Dule (R) and Rado (back) get to the island's highest point
© Jeff Jones
As usual, we blended into the background
© Jeff Jones
mmm...cake
© Jeff Jones
The way home from Hvar was uphill, at times
© Jeff Jones
Me, Braco and his friend wot I can't remember the name of
© Not Jeff Jones

Some more of our party arrived very late in the evening, led by Mr Penko. Mark and Marjetka came with him, along with two other members of number one Slovenian ladies team, Alenka and Tjasha. Braco was also there with a couple of mates, as well as Dule the pig killer, Hauptman (who just survived a misdiagnosed intestinal inflammation this year and is riding again, minus some of his internal workings), Rado, Bane, Marko, Roman and a few more - 19 in total.

More wine was consumed, and I had the impression that some of the other guys were trying to make me drunk because we were planning the 120km ride to Sucuraj the next day. Many toasts followed, and the Others were very impressed with my rudimentary Slovenian. Dobro Utro.

But I had learned a trick with the wine which was very drinkable: add water and you won't get hammered. So the next day I was slightly woozy, but certainly no worse off than the rest. There were maybe a dozen of us who made the trip, and it was again fairly sedate although not quite as slow as the previous day. Mark decided to stretch his legs just before we got to Sucuraj and I followed him. We bombed down the last descent into the sleepy town and got our coffee order in before the others caught up. Braco was looking a bit cooked already, but still ordered a beer. The cafe owner remembered me from last time, as my bike had fallen in the water.

First stop on the way to Sucuraj
© Jeff Jones
The peloton en route to Sucuraj
© Jeff Jones
Downtown Sucuraj. The bistro is owned by a Kiwi by the name of Tony, I believe
© Jeff Jones
Tjasha, Alenka and Mark in Sucuraj
© Jeff Jones
Braco needed a beer at halfway
© Jeff Jones
Climbing out of Sucuraj. Some enjoying the pace, some not
© Braco
Climbing out of Sucuraj with Tjasha
© Braco
Always ridin'
© Braco
Jelsa
© Jeff Jones

On the way back, we split into groups as it was easier to ride at our own pace. I ended up at the front with Braco and his mate, who was a good ex-racer from 15 years ago, Dule, Rado and Alenka. I enjoyed the fact that it didn't rain, unlike last time, and I even needed to ration my water.

From last time, I remembered the second last descent as being sketchy in parts. My tyres were rubbish in the wet and I was shaking with fear and cold by the time I got to the bottom of it. This time around in the dry, there were no such problems. I easily kept up with Dule, who goes downhill very well, and it was nice to be able to conquer that little demon. I went at my own pace on the last climb and after waiting at the top, ended up with Braco's mate to ride through the infamous tunnel with. 1.4km, single lane, no lights. We did it with a car behind us, which was much safer.

Swimming, eating, drinking, etc. followed as the rest of the party rolled in. Mark and Mr Penko had sore arms after doing a lot of pushing in the rearward group. Marko, Marjetka and Tjasha all required said assistance.

Split, pretty noice
© Jeff Jones

Unfortunately, we couldn't stay an extra day and headed back to Ljubljana on Saturday. Jani had a wedding to get to that night, plus a marathon to run on Sunday (he'd more or less started his training in this final week). Dule also was due to run, so that was that. At least the drive back wasn't done at quite the same breakneck speed as going down. It was so much colder when we got back though. Amazing what difference 600km makes to the temperature.

That night, Primoz and I hooked up with some of the guys who had been selling running shoes to the masses before the marathon. It was actually hard to switch back to beer after drinking wine all week, but I sort of managed it. One of our drinking companions was also doing the marathon, and he proceeded to get battered so at least he had a ready made excuse. He was going to pace Jani the next day, and he did so until he pulled out with cramps. To his credit, Jani finished in under four hours, despite getting equally as hammered at the wedding. Slovenians seem to all follow the work hard and play hard ethic.

We did drag ourselves out at the reasonably godly hour of 10:30 the next morning to watch the marathon, which conveniently passed 100m from Primoz's house. We were at km 9 and saw the 20-strong group of elite runners come past after about 28 minutes. A few minutes followed, before the best of the rest started to trickle through. Then after about 40 minutes, it became a torrent of runners that lasted a good 20 minutes. 6000 in total, all looking pretty fit. Quite a spectacle.

The Kenyans and Ethiopians dominated the marathon
© Jeff Jones
This lot came through a bit later
© Jeff Jones

Feeling more inspired, Primoz took me on one of his regular training loops around Ljubljana. It's a brilliant place to train: lovely roads, beautiful scenery (autumnal now), lots of climbs and plenty of flat. We did 65km at a fairly modest pace, along the way meeting Uros who works on Bicikel.com, Slovenia's biggest cycling site. I have a Bicikel hat, gloves and socks that almost-but-not-quite match my Chippenham Wheelers kit.

I learned an interesting snippet of 'news' from Primoz about the 2007 Journo Worlds too. Apparently, the guy who was second in my category in the road race (I was third last year) got disqualified for not being a journalist! He also got DQ'd from his fifth(?) place in the TT, but that didn't bother me so much. I'm owed a silver medal now ;-)

On that bombshell...

[my internet broke last week, hence rather a slow update. That and I've been imbibing a few quanta of pale brown liquids most nights]

Jelsa, yeah
© Jeff Jones
Ouch, before the tunnel
© Jeff Jones
We go for a bit of a walk
© Jeff Jones
Serenity
© Jeff Jones
Hvar automobile classics
© Jeff Jones
Sigh, we're leaving.
© Jeff Jones