Day One and the Wheels Fall Off Already

In less than four month’s time this same group of geriatric riders are scheduled to complete a complex series of rides in various places around Europe. Judging by the comedy of errors that plagued today’s (simple) ride, I now have serious reason to feel concerned.

The plan was that we were all to catch the 10 am ferry from Sorrento to Queenscliff. In order to eliminate any possible confusion, we even insisted that everyone prebook their ferry tickets in advance. It was a foolproof plan, or so I thought.

The instructions advised that we should arrive at the ferry terminal “no later than 40 minutes” prior to departure. To be on the safe side, Maggie and I set the alarm for 5 am, quickly got ready and were happy to be underway by 7 am. We had an uneventful drive and managed to arrive in Sorrento at about 8.30am. This gave us time to sit in the car and relax while we waited till the appointed boarding time.

Soon afterwards we noticed that David and Carol were already in the queue for the ferry. The problem was that they had joined the wrong queue. They were on their way for the 9 am departure! Thinking that we could save time by following them through the ticket booth and then waiting for the correct ferry, I decided to join the same queue.

The problem was that the grumpy lady behind the window had no patience for seniors, and left us in no doubt that we would have to leave and come back at the proper time. She actually got me so flustered that I temporarily forgot my own name and also how to drive. As I drove away from the window, I could hear her torrent of abuse and violent hand waving, following me out of the car park.

We joined Gordon and Sue and Greg and Andrea Doherty, who were watching proceedings from the vantage point of the main carpark. A phone call to David and Carol informed them that they had completely ignored my directions and were now on the WRONG ferry. They didn’t seem concerned. With only 10 minutes to go till the 9 am departure, there was nothing that could be done. Or was there ?

With the hour hand rapidly approaching 9 o’clock, we raced out of the carpark and back through the ticket window. Although I expected another lashing of abuse, we were quickly rushed through, and took our positions on the boat. It was a bit like one of those chase scenes where the criminal just manages to leap their car across the water, onto a departing ferry.

Now that we were all on the wrong ferry, we had to let Michael and Christine know that we would not be meeting them at 11 am as arranged. I gave Michael a call to see how far they had come.

“We are now all on the 9 am ferry, and will be reaching Queenscliff at 10 am” I explained.
Michael sounded sleepy. “Oh, was that today ?” he asked.
“Where are you?” (It was obvious that they were nowhere near Queenscliff).
Michael explained that he had decided not to ride, and would meet us at Drysdale around 11 am. I suppose other things could have gone wrong, but at that time I could not think of any. The ride was falling apart before it had even started.

At least the weather was playing its part. We enjoyed a smooth crossing and were soon parked in Queenscliff, unloading our bikes. At least eight riders had made it to the start.

After a scenic roll around Queenscliff, we were enjoying a lovely ride along the Bellarine Rail Trail. It had been some years since I had last ridden this trail, and I had forgotten just how pleasant it is. The surface was excellent and the sunny day and lack of wind gave us perfect cycling conditions.

Michael and Christine were waiting at Drysdale, although Michael was a non rider. At least Christine was able to join the peloton, increasing our number to nine. Another 8 km brought us to Leopold, where we had planned to have lunch.
We had previously chosen the Rolling Pin Pie Bakery as a suitable location for lunch, however when I followed the GPS instructions, there was no pie shop to be seen. I looked back and forth, trying not show panic while the rest of the group looked on with quizzical expressions.

Just as I was about to admit that I had stuffed up, I saw the sign across the road. Lunch was saved after all. Once we had filled our faces with pie and coffee, everything seemed much better.

The return ride was achieved at a significantly faster pace that the outward ride, probably because I put the women at the front.

“All the women are to ride at the front”, I explained. David immediately took this as an excuse to leave the rest of men and ride with the pink shirted females. Obviously he identifies as a 75 year old lady. Personally I don’t have a problem with that.

Back at Queenscliff, we took some time to climb to the top of the impressive new lighthouse and look out over the harbour. It really had been a superb start to our riding adventure, even if almost nothing had gone according to the original plan.Read more