11th July - Port Denison (Bowen) to Ayr

Nigel says.... Gordon feeling much better I think. He tried to be witty at breakfast this morning and the bottom lip didn't quiver when I suggested we should cycle on past Holme Hill to Ayr.

We departed Port Denison at 0745 hrs and we were quickly back on the Bruce Highway. Looking at some of the alternative motels we could have stayed at in the cold light of day, I think we stayed at the best one in town . Beautiful morning, almost cloudless.

We had a really good run to Ayr today - we flew along with a tremendous tail wind. There was plenty to look at, several stops and most importantly, there was light traffic, a smooth road, a decent shoulder and it was flat. Yes, Mr Hotmix was back. There were long stretches of perfectly smooth road surface - Gordon was actually smiling today.

The Bruce Highway presents a challenge on several different levels. You can never relax because whilst the vast majority of drivers are responsible and courteous, there are a small number of complete tossers who are either willfully dangerous and agressive, or who are just bad drivers. You have to be ready for these people at all times. Today a lorry passenger tried to throw water at us (I think it was water), and a git in a Holden overtaking in the opposite direction drove straight at Gordon. Then there are potholes, large cracks in the road, dead animals, glass and debris, large lumps of tarmac etc which have to be negotiated otherwise you will be off. The road conditions are never consistent.

Then there is the butt factor. I think we have both reached a kind of equilibrium of butt pain, although I suspect Gordon suffers more than I do - he certainly looses the daily competition for who will say "Oh my arse!" first. Perhaps when his Brooks saddle is broken in things will be better. I reckon the saddle might be broken in by Cairns..... Mornings for me are ok, but by lunch time the bruising becomes a constant background factor. Not an unbearable pain by any means, but a constant pain in the butt nontheless.

Finally there is the boredom factor. For long stretches there may be nothing new to look at. Here my daughter's iPod is an essential tool to keep the mind occupied and motivated. A running songs album is especially good as an accompanyment for getting up the hills, the BBC Radio 4 History of the World in 100 Objects (first 40 objects only) feeds the brain. I find I can dip in and out of whatever is being shuffled through the headset according to what is going on around me. No intense concentration or intellectual application necessary. Also, by continuously looking around at the surroundings and taking an interest in what is going on, it is amazing how much interesting stuff is around. The collection of 'Big Things' is just part of that process!

Gordon is heavily reliant on his iPod to get him through the day and has taken to listening to audio books as well as Abba songs. Today he finished his series of John le Carre books and will now have to see if he can persevere with War and Peace. I always thought that War and Peace was a metaphor for the endless and impenetrable.....I think he would have been better off with something lighter like the Mister Men audio book series. He would enjoy meeting Mr Weedy, Mr Messy, Mr Poorly, and Mr Picky.....

Thoughts and comments:

• Lots of mango plantations north of Bowen.
• Saw the Big Watermelon Slice at a fruit stall at Gumlu.
• Countryside today was: mangoes...tomatoes...cane...cattle...bush
• Big bridge over the Burdekin River, but quite narrow.
• Tune of the day: Jeff Beck - Hi Ho Silver Lining
• Snack of the day: Gumlu - bacon and cheese pie
• Poster of the day: Working Safely with Mangoes - a health and safety guide

Up early for the World Cup Final - late start tomorrow, then Townsville!

Gordon says ...

I'm feeling a lot better today, and the nature of the ride certainly helped - 120 kms of hotmix and a breeze over my left shoulder - I couldn't have been happier ... head down, tail up, 28 kms/hr for about 5 hrs. Nigel vanished in my mirror after about 5 minutes - although apparently he reached speeds of 17 kms/hr on the downhill stretches.

I have been forced to ask myself over the last few weeks, how come I've been sick for a lot of the ride, and Nigel hasn't - or rather - has been sick for significantly less of the time than me. By Nigel's own calculations, I'm about twice as fit as him (... and the rest ...) - so what is it? I've decided it's all about food.

I've been making the terrible mistake of eating well - breakfast cerial, salad sandwiches, and steak or pasta in the evening - obviously wrong. Nigel has a different approach ... let's call it the 'saturated fat' diet ... and clearly it's working. In the month we''ve been on the road, Nigel has had a deep fried evening meal every night but one (that was pizza - extra cheese). He almost always has something called a 'seafood basket'. which everyone in Australia would know is all the seafood crap scraped off the kitchen floor, smothered in three inches of batter, and then deep fried in lard - add that to a pile of chips you couldn't cycle round, and you have Nigel's dinner ... I feel queasy just thinking about it. In the last month, I've seen Nigel put more deep fried crap in his body than your average fish and chip shop wheelie bin. And he always smothers in tomato sauce, or complains loudly if he can't get enough. It's like a cartoon version of an English tourist. I'm going to start putting a knotted hankie on his head while he eats.

But that's not all. As I've mentioned before, Nigel likes to start the day with a full English breakfast, where available, and in the last couple of weeks - he's taken to having a Magnum as part of his morning tea (for those in England, a giant slab of very rich ice-cream, smothered in half a kilo of chocolate). Today, he made the observation: 'Australian's eat a lot of pies, don't they ...' as he was shoving a cheese and bacon one in his maw - part of his normal lunch. When we finish the ride, he skulls a pint of full cream milk ('Good for the legs ...'), and then normally (as he is now, as I write) he eats a bags of crisps the size of a small rucksack while watching telly, and waiting to go out and get his seafood basket.

Jesus Louise ... Is this what he eats at home? I'm guessing there aren't enough digits in our numerical system to calculate his cholesterol levels. But what the hell - the joke appears to be on me. I've been the sick one.

Of course, an alternative explanation is that the inside of Nigel's body is such a terrible place that even bacteria refuse to live there. Oh well ... it''s nearly six o'clock ... time for Nigel's seafood basket.