hero of the boat, well with the 2 chinese families that said “You have very good eyes….” The black bear was lifting rocks searching for crabs whilst junior practised his climbing. Later in the summer they convert to eating berries and are much harder to see from the water Crab and berry diet, no wonder they sleep for 3-4 months.

The night is abuzz, we head back to the calmness of our room, I’m half drunk from the Havana Club rum, half drunk on life. You find yourself dipping into the street life but needing a refuge from it too. Like parts of overflowing China, like throbbing Mumbai, too much to absorb. You take little sips and withdraw.

The real riding tour starts the next day and Ken made arrangements for a friend to cover until he felt a little better. “He rides ok but he talks a bit.” When we stepped down from our tour truck there was Phil Liggett, the famous Tour De France commentator. He was a great guy and enjoyed our ride so much he joined us again the following morning with his wife. They have a place on the coast near Cape Town and truly enjoy the life style here. In a few weeks he will start his year’s calling of all of the big bike rides.

The next minute I was in a bustling city and four laneways back from civilisation parking my bike outside a seafood restaurant. “Lunch” he announced. Inside the place was heaving and we squeezed onto two small tables. Minutes later communal bowls of steaming pippies, small prawns, noodles and stock were placed in the middle of the tables. The guy next to me scooped ladles of soup into each person’s bowl before the happy slurp of contentment stopped the chatter. Some spoke English learnt working for the American military, others simply smiled and nodded approvingly. Full we waddled back onto our bikes and snaked our way across paths I would never have found.

We shared the summit with no others. We celebrated our arrival with broad smiles or was that teeth chattering? Our climb in the dark had given us little understanding of our climb and as we stood there the surrounds slowly became clear. The shadow of Mt Sonder began to stretch out like an upturned ice cream cone across the plains below. We celebrated with a thermos of coffee and chocolate Tim-Tams, such an Aussie salute.

A mosquito net slung over the bed only lulled me into a false sense of security that my sleep would be restful, the beer, the bites and the jungle chatter had me rising every two hours till the local roosters started their chorus. The hotel is an Eco lodge which was short for open air washing, no hot water and a slow turning fan. Actually it was short for ‘slightly better than sleeping on the ground’.

Wake early to find our driver has stupidly and stubbornly slept in the taxi because they wouldn’t give him a free room, he hasn’t eaten either. I go to knock on the taxi window but am stopped by another driver who is sucking hard on a sheesha pipe, here try, he mumbles, leave him. I become Arabic and to save face draw on the long flex like a wimp but it’s enough to give me credibility with this guy who was born with four days of stubble on his chin?

Each day the group has left earlier either due to getting better at packing, not forgetting their cereal bowl for breakfast or the real reason paranoia……that they will flag before the finish of the days ride

The holiest pilgrimage for a Jain devotee is to Shatunjaya Hill. Jain people come from all over India to climb the 3750 steps to the top of the hill supposedly shedding their materialistic beliefs along the way. Which is I guess why the fellow being carried aloft on two sturdy poles by four sherpas is gleefully handing out crisp 10 rupee notes to all and sundry and feeling rather chuffed at the gesture.

The camp starts to get noisy at 6am. I find out later that Terry has literally woken everyone like a Sargent Major. He is the only one aware of what today will take. I gulp down my muesli with water unconvinced it will fuel my day. The whole camp is on the track by 7am and we are warm and sweaty within half an hour.