Jul 5, 2008

She Liked to Ride My Bicycle

SunRising So the other day, completely disregarding the dire weather forecast - after all they never get it right do they - we rented a couple of bikes to go on a dog-free-a-thon bike ride up the south side of the harbour as far as our little legs would carry us.

And, rather than get a bike seat for Eloise, we got one of those bolt-on bikes that bolt on to the back of my bike in this case, with its own pedals and gears and all that, and bolted it on to the back of my back, and proceeded on our merry way.

And a jolly merry way it was as we toddled along through an admittedly bracing breeze, getting to Kerry Tarlton's Underwater World in about twenty minutes then on through Mission Bay where we taunted a flock of seagulls (note the lack of capitals, predictable pop-band gaggers) and past St Helliers Bay and up as far as the flat road would take us, where we stopped for lunch at a playground.

We passed by marinas full of yachtery and piers overlooking the bay, dappled if that's the right word by milky "cloudy-bright" sunshine, beaches backdropped by Victorian fountains and little rows of shops cafes and restaurants and rocky outcrops hiding little recreational reserves (probably).

And the Ginger One had a very nice time imagining she was actually riding this bike along and managing to go really quite fast with no need for significant pedentary effort on her part. Although at one point she did proclaim that the bike was tired which we took to mean that she had a sore bottom.

And this, here at the playground, was where it all kind of started to go a little but wrong, as Eloise went playing with some kids on the rocks and fell on her arse in a rock pool. So, dungarees swapped for replacement clothes, we debated what to do next.

We decided to head up round the headland since we'd only taken an hour and a half with stoppage time included to get this far.

And on we went up a jolly steep hill to find our path blocked by a construction project, and not very far up the diversion, I ran over some glass and my tyre started hissing.

So, cursing our luck but with half of one of my eyes on the weather forecast, we hot footed it back in the direction we'd come from as we didn't have a puncture repair kit.

The wind was a bit stronger going in the other direction and we made it as far as Mission Bay by the time the tyre was too flat to ride any more.

So Saint Nicole rode back to the bike shop to get a repair kit while Eloise and I stayed behind at a playground, though we snuck off to a cafe as soon as Nicole was out of sight - luckily as the sky had greyed over and starting spitting portentously.

Coffee and smoothie consumed we made it back to the playground just in time for Nicole to get back, and I got cracking on repairing the tyre whilst Nicole befriended to local ex-pats.

And pretty much as I got the tyre back on the bike the heavens opened and sheltering underneath the tree we cursed our bad luck.

Our friendly ex-pat lady berated the Kiwi weather and general pace of life and gave us a raincoat for Eloise for whom she was abviously feeling sorry. We explained that we now hail from sunnier climes and obviously have no need for these "rain coats" which are so popular here.

And when the rain relented we were on our way, battling the rising wind and occasional bitterly chilly rain, slowly soaking and with very miserable looks on one little face in particular.

Still spirits soon picked up as we took our commiseration presents of takeaway coffee and fluffies and cakes home and sat next to the heater and before long we were warm, hale and hearty again.

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