I’m playing catch-up here, because I have had the privilege of three great weekends of cycling in a row, and, as the headmaster said to the inflatable boy who brought a pin to school, I have let everyone down (by not posting anything about any of it to this blog).
So, let’s go back to Johnno’s June Journey.
My erstwhile colleague, JF, was a keen cycle-tourist before pressures of work with running the biggest bicycle event in the state took all his time and attention. Now that he’s left BQ, he wants to get back on his touring bike at a bit more. And fair enough too. So Bill, Sholto and I joined John for a three-day jaunt around the southern Downs and down into northern NSW.
The general idea was a sort of gentlemen’s tour in which a support vehicle driven by a butler/valet/gopher would follow us around, as we pedalled all stately & majestic through the countryside.
But of course we didn’t have a butler, or a valet, or even a gopher. So we took turns at driving the van.
Day 1 started with the country museum at Pittsworth. We poked around the various exhibits, discovering all sorts of fascinating minutae about life on the Downs over the past 100 years or so. But eventually we decided to go for a bike ride. Bill jumped in the van, on the grounds that he was the only who hadn’t travelled up in his cycling gear. So JF, Sholto and I rolled out of Pittsworth on the road to Clifton and thence Allora.
With all our cultural activities, as well as the fact that I was slightly late picking people up in Brisbane, we only made it 38km along the road to Nobby before it was well past lunchtime. So sandwiches were consumed, supplemented by a fantastic serve of hot chips from the Nobby takeaway.
And thence back on the bikes, with JF jumping in the van as we powered south to Clifton. We quickly worked out that with the strong breeze and lateness of the hour, that the planned route, which would take us in an arc to the east of the New England Highway, was both unnecessary and unwarranted.
So some on-the-fly route management saw us take some interesting turns onto Pacholke Road, and then Bell Road, some of which looked uncannily like dirt roads. All good fun, and we travelled through some rolling hillsides and farming country before lobbing up in Allora just in time for a late cup of coffee at Amy’s Country Cafe.
Then we rolled around to our historic accommodation, Roseneath Cottage. JF had organised B&B’s for both nights of our journey. We settled in, spread out our belonging all over the cottage, fired up whatever heaters we could find, then wandered around town to choose a fine dining establishment for our evening meal. After an exhaustive tour of the town, we decided instead to get our fill at the Railway Hotel. A good choice.
Bill, the vegetarian of our crew, looked closely at the Railway Hotel dining room’s decidedly meat-heavy menu. Among the offerings were pizzas: supreme, meat-lovers, ham & pineapple, etc. No vegie pizza listed.
Bill to dining room staff person: “Could I have a supreme pizza, but without the meat?”
Dining room staff: “You mean a vegetarian pizza?”
A breakthrough moment in Allora.