Day 33 – The end

The beauty, the beach and the Indian Ocean. Happiness.

http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4 

The city appears. Yes I did change my
shirt. Vanity is an illness.

So this is about as good as times can get. Am sat writing this sat in a café looking out over Cottesloe beach to the Indian Ocean beyond. The oh so yuppie Goji berry muesli was delicious, have a latte and chocolate brioche on the go, and nothing, absolutely nothing to worry about. No timetable, couldn’t care less that it sounds like the back wheel is finally buckling, and all my knees have got to do today is rest, and swim in the sea.

It’s just about as perfect a feeling as you can have. All the stress, worries, pain, screaming at the wind in the outback, flies, heat, motels and if I was honest, loneliness of it all, and it’s over. Not just over, but worth every sanity stretching minute of it. And, to my great satisfaction it’s over damn near on the target time of four and half weeks.

Looking back at a great,
if grey, view.

Out of habit, more than design, I was wide awake by 04:30, and outside the funny lodge place I stayed at last night by 05:50, looking mournfully at the sky. Rather than the milky grey and pastel pink of a clear pre-dawn, there was a huge black cloud pressing down on the city. It was humid as hell to boot.

Clear and crisp it was not to be. Within 2 miles I was forced to take cover in a bus shelter as the first Perth rain since December came down heavily. Sat in a graffiti strewn bus shelter looking at a dreary commercial park was not quite the dream, but it gave me half an hour to sit there and take in what was actually happening.

Luckily once the shower passed, that was it. The short 20 mile odd ride just got better and better. Almost entirely on cycle paths, for the first time all trip I was plugged in to iphone and thumping through the miles to a soundtrack.

So great a view in fact, I put my ugly
mutt in front of it

As the tower blocks of downtown came into view I was joined by a wonderfully eccentric old grandfather in board shorts and T-shirt of the dude from the Big Lebowski. Unlike the lycra clad MAMILs hammering it to work, he seemed to have all the time in the world. He was great company, guided me through downtown past besuited office workers frowning their way to their desks, and on down to the Swan River and the bike path towards the coast. He then just waved me on my way and disappeared.

Moody boat shed

The ride out to the coast zig zagged through cycle paths and back roads. Today was not a race against time. Then as Chase and Status’ Alive came through the earphones, I came over the brow of a hill and there in front of me was the Indian Ocean as far as you could see. It felt epic, really properly awesome. It’s a feeling of bodily relief and utter bemusement that somehow I’ve made it. You spend months and weeks dreaming about this view, and suddenly it’s there in front of you.

Striking quite a pose at the Ocean

Have then just spent a couple of hours wandering up and down the beachfront in a happy muddled bubble. It’s harder mentally, than physically, to pull the brakes on. Really hasn’t sunk in. Have to keep telling  myself that it’s really done. I really don’t have to be on a bike after breakfast, after lunch, tomorrow, next week. It’s done.

2,465 odd miles, two punctures (oddly both on the same day), one snake spotted, no spiders that I'm aware of, two shot knees, a burnt nose, more flies than stars in the sky, more motel, hotel and roadhouse meals than you should ever eat, miles of road trains, caravans, vans, utes, mountains, deserts, plains, hills, hot hot days after beautiful crisp bush mornings, kangaroos (dead and alive), emus, parrots, funny friesian magpies, so much gloriously terrible municipal art, two stripped tyres, one very untrue back wheel and so much else besides. And it's done, all done.

However before signing off would like so say some thank yous.

Cottesloe Beach, a good place to be

Thank you to everyone who has donated so far. Your donations will go towards the excellent work the MS Trust do to support those affected by MS. If you were waiting for me to finish, then the Just Giving site is still open - http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4 . Thank you for any donations, big or small.

Cutting a pose with a
vast cushion sculpture. Pass

Thank you to Mike and Claire, Tom, Emily and family, Charles and Kay, and Roger and Di for letting me stay. Helping set me on my way and letting me stay at their homes rather than motels for a few nights, has meant more than I think they realise.

Thank you to everyone who's read my dyslexic rambling on this, then emailed, texted or messaged. People wishing you on is vital on a trip like this. You have spurred me on more than you know.

Appropriate sculpture at the
end of Cottesloe jetty

Whilst doubt they’ll ever read this, thank you to every trucker, caravaner, holiday maker, car driver, ute driver, bus driver, you name it, who waved, tooted, offered sweets and water out the windows, teased me in roadhouses, wished me luck and generally willed me on my way.

This is one, huge, hot, wonderful, weird at times, brilliant, dusty, beautiful, and kind country. Its people are its heart. It’s been one of the great privileges of my life to have a chance to see Australia like this. The warmth and kindness of the Aussies, has been the quiet constant tailwind of this whole ride.

Muesli, bike outside, the
ocean. All is good.

So that’s it. It’s been a proper experience, worth every inch of pain. Tough, epic, and more than a little emotional. Just can’t really believe I’ve got away with it.

Today is a good day.

Miles: 19 – Guildford – Perth – Cottesloe

Breakfast – Pain au Chocolat and a coffee en route. Then Goiji berry muesli, chocolate brioche, latte, and apple juice with all the brunching mothers at Il Lido in Cottesloe. After weeks of corn flakes on a tray in motel rooms, this is bliss. Pure yuppie bliss.

p.s. Hope you can forgive the indulgence of peppering my mug all over this post, but just occasionally you feel ok about doing this kind of thing.