Day the second of the S2S went for 88.5 klms from the home of the platypuses at Bombala to the land of the legless lizards and worlds most expensive bus passenger shelter of Cooma. The rolling hills out of Bombala and down to Bibbinluke are a fabulous ride, the road is smooth and fast and all the car and truck drivers are considerate and gracious. The Indian elephant ( you can tell by the ears) at the Nimmitabel stop was looking a little wrinkled as we took refreshment at the bakery in the middle of town which boasts two claims to fame. One being known traditionally as the "dividing of the waters" which has something to do with rivers and creek hocus pocus. The other is that Nimmitabel claims to be the birthplace of Greek migration to Australia. Something to do with a convict then freeman former pirate whom, on release from the crown took up residence in multicultural Nimmitabel long before that was a word or a state of mind.
Trials of the day included a few too many punctures and a tyre blow out which tested the natural good humour of Van velo a little.
The O'night stop was in Cooma. A late lunch at a very sophisticated cafe just up the main street toward Jindabyne was a feature event. A raven haired yet ice blue eyed wait person puzzled us all with their gentle grace and service manner and what can only be described as an awkward limp.
Nothing spilt amazingly.
The evening involved a quick trip to the gun shop for supplies and a magazine photo shoot for our tour mascot "Andme" followed by a walking tour of the stately homes of the Cooma cbd fringe. The Victorian mansions invoked a true sense of Cooma that somehow defies articulation by anything other than poetry;
ergo;
there once was a rider
rapide,
Who dreamt he could ride fast
and did.
Though pedal away,
by night
andby day,
It was not ego,
alas,
but all id
and but for a tub of butt
grease
he would
a thousand quid
pro quo
give
through a sieve
oh no Cooma
there you go.
For some strange reason we slept well that night apart from an unfortunate incident involving two of the cycling party and a band aid application that was challenged by a late to the room third bunk mate who thought he saw a gymnast and a ring master practicing for the circus....
Trials of the day included a few too many punctures and a tyre blow out which tested the natural good humour of Van velo a little.
The O'night stop was in Cooma. A late lunch at a very sophisticated cafe just up the main street toward Jindabyne was a feature event. A raven haired yet ice blue eyed wait person puzzled us all with their gentle grace and service manner and what can only be described as an awkward limp.
Nothing spilt amazingly.
The evening involved a quick trip to the gun shop for supplies and a magazine photo shoot for our tour mascot "Andme" followed by a walking tour of the stately homes of the Cooma cbd fringe. The Victorian mansions invoked a true sense of Cooma that somehow defies articulation by anything other than poetry;
ergo;
there once was a rider
rapide,
Who dreamt he could ride fast
and did.
Though pedal away,
by night
andby day,
It was not ego,
alas,
but all id
and but for a tub of butt
grease
he would
a thousand quid
pro quo
give
through a sieve
oh no Cooma
there you go.
For some strange reason we slept well that night apart from an unfortunate incident involving two of the cycling party and a band aid application that was challenged by a late to the room third bunk mate who thought he saw a gymnast and a ring master practicing for the circus....
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