Day 17:  Fairlie

17 December 2010
Logistics Day in Fairlie

Well, we can’t seem to escape Fairlie’s good graces.  It has been raining nearly all day, so we elected not to mountain bike and instead to hang out in the kitchen, surfing the free Wi-Fi while we plan, as best we can while still being flexible, the remainder of our trip.  It’s not so much that we want to book anything ahead of time, more that we want to make sure we hit what we think will be the highlights (for us).  It might be a small country but it’s chock-a-block full of spectacular scenery to be explored.

We’ve met some nice people today in the kitchen.  There was the young cyclists from Holland who has ridden all the way from Auckland over the past five weeks.  He seemed non-plussed about the roads but then again, he’s male and under 25 so I’m guessing we might not have the same perspective on mortality.  There was the couple from Norway who spend 6 months every year managing one of their country’s 450 alpine huts and the rest of the year traveling and flyfishing.  (Gina asked them if they would hire her.)  Then there was the bike touring couple from England who have the good sense to be touring here on mountain bikes.  The gal said that way she can “ride up the gutters and grass” instead of getting run over on the highway.  Tonight there is also a younger couple who have biked from Europe through Asia to here.  The young gal insulted me – I’d like to think without meaning to – when she learned that we had ended our ride and stated “I would never do that.”  It’s nice she has her convictions but after listening to her commiserating about the frightening traffic, I have to wonder if she’s wearing this trip as a badge of honour instead of a comfortable old sweater, as is my own preference.  (In fairness, she grew on me as the conversation continued.  That, or the bottle of wine we were drinking had its desired effect.)

Admittedly, it’s bittersweet to talk with other cyclists.  We envy them that they are still traveling on their bikes.  We’ve had moments of wondering if we gave up too soon.  But when we hear them talk of the same close encounters on the roadways, we share that knowing look of “Yeah, we made the right move” and we turn our attention back to our trip, our experience, our preferences and desires, and we flag another page in the Rough Guide and tell ourselves to look forward, not back.  When all is said and done, it’s still a luxury problem.